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Kokichi kicked his feet lazily under the table as he rested his head in his hand, watching the group disperse. Morale was understandably low, what with a trial concluding just last night. And the victim.... Ouma closed his eyes tight and took a deep breath, fighting off a shudder. Everyone else was doing their damndest to stay positive even when it was clearly exhausting. He couldn’t let himself think about it - not now, when there was still so much to do.
As usual, Monokuma had interrupted breakfast to -- ahem -- grant the surviving students wonderful gifts that let them open up more of the school. And, also as usual, the items - what looked like two keys, one futuristic and one antique - ended up in the hands of the resident detective. Kokichi would normally be bouncing around him, demanding to see and hold the keys himself as the exploration began, with Momota prying him off Amami’s arm as he laughed apologetically, but… not today. He shook his head when Momota looked back, questioning - the immediate softer look, one of understanding and easy acceptance, made his heart twinge. Of course he would accept that Kokichi wanted to be alone right now.
It made him feel dirty, using Hoshi’s death like this, an excuse he never had to voice. If they never asked, well... lies by omission were lies just the same. His fingers drummed across the table. Amami and Momota led the way into the school, Chabashira wavering between leading the charge to search outside and following Yonaga. But finally, the door leading outside swung shut, and Kokichi was left in silence. He pushed himself up and took a deep breath with both hands planted firmly on the table.
There was no time for grief. It was a lesson hammered in, time and time again - the killing game did not allow something as generous as a recovery period. Sometimes it felt like it took everything he had just to hold on and keep himself together. but that wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all. He owed it to everyone who had died, all of them victims, to end it. Utterly and completely.
And for that, he needed a plan.
This would be different than his nighttime exploits. Everyone running around exploring would hopefully be enough to keep the mastermind from noticing anything. If they did, well - what harm was there in a little light reading?
Not in the library, though. That place had been searched top to bottom by just about everyone. Kokichi knows he’s smart, he takes great pride in it, but even he can admit that if Amami, the Ultimate Detective, couldn’t find anything, the likelihood of finding anything important among the shelves was near impossible until he found a way to get through that damn door.
If only Gonta was still around, he thought, ignoring the pang of emotions in his chest. With time, he probably would’ve been able to break the door down through either sheer force or smarts, if not some combination of the two. But instead… Kokichi shook his head to clear his head of the inventor’s fate. No time for grieving - he had to move forward.
Plan, right. He moved out of the dining hall and towards the stairs leading up, headed towards the top floor. It was likely Amami and Momota had already run up there to see if one of the keys unlocked that giant door near the Detective Lab, but hopefully they were already through it and in full exploration mode. Their combined curiosity was a force to be reckoned with - even if Kokichi wanted to grab their attention, it was doubtful he’d succeed once they were hooked.
His luck held true, seeing as rubble lay strewn around the floor, visible before he even reached the top of the staircase. Apparently the key hadn’t unlocked the door; it had blown up instead, revealing a new corridor. Kokichi went to take a quick peek - he’d be able to fully explore later, after the nighttime announcement - and saw a very short hallways leading to a single door that had been propped halfway open, voices ringing from within. So the adventure duo was inside. Good to know.
He peeked inside, briefly, just to see what type of room was hidden behind such an ominous door. It was… something, all right. Roses red as blood littered the floor between mannequin pieces, half of which were “injured” and the other half holding various weapons. Crossed out photos lined the walls and cards hung from the ceiling on thin strings.
The room was centered around a trial ground of sorts, sixteen seats facing each other around a not-quite table - it was a large ring with no center. There was what looked like a laptop sitting at one chair, but it was turned off, possibly out of power. The far wall was made almost entirely of metal, and two large dials held what looked like a vault door shut. Amami and Momota were standing at the dials now, the former holding a contemplative pose while the latter just looked frustrated.
Each dial looked to hold twelve options for a total one-hundred forty-four possible combinations. Geez, no wonder Momota looked ready to punch something. It sounded like they were debating the pros and cons of trial and error; nothing fun, and definitely not a debate Kokichi wanted to get involved in.
He retreated to the Detective Lab, closing the door behind him. It was quiet, and the fire crackled softly in the fireplace on the far side of the room. A large shelf stood behind a large, empty table, and presumably held various case files. Amami said he had glanced through a few before and concluded they were probably fake - several were illustrations or looked like screenshots from a videogame, and the ones that weren’t were teenagers just like them, killed in strange ways or found in odd places. The reason Kokichi found them worthy of investigation?
Every single one included a Monokuma file.
As Kokichi stood on a chair and pulled a random file from a middle shelf, he found there was, of course, more information. Victim’s name, measurements, talent, time and cause of death, location the body was discovered, all written neatly underneath a photo of the body. Nothing too unusual, as far as Kokichi could tell. He wasn’t a detective, after all.
It was the next page that drew his attention. The fine print detailed the crime, motive to set up to execution. At the very bottom the culprit’s name and talent were revealed, and while no actual execution was named that was almost worse: this left everything up to his very detailed, very descriptive imagination. He turned the page before he had time to think, absorbing the new information of the next death. In total, the file detailed five murders, each one following the same layout of Monokuma file and a recount that reminded him of Amami’s closing arguments. He exhaled slowly.
Why would Monokuma make up… fifty-two sets of five murders? Why five per file? Why fifty-two ? The top shelf wasn’t even half full! To inspire the less creative, maybe, or possibly just to fill up space. Amami was a detective solving murders, after all, even if he had gained his title through missing persons cases - though that could be a lie, and this Monokuma’s hint at the truth. Were these reflective of actual investigations Amami had been a part of?
It was a distinct possibility. Monokuma hadn’t shied away from exposing secrets and hidden aspects of other talents, and had no reason to change his tune for Amami. Unless Amami was the mastermind, of course, but that just reframed the question as “why plant incriminating evidence in the mastermind’s own lab?” It didn’t make any sense, unless the mastermind wanted to be found out.
But wouldn’t that just end the game? Exposing the mastermind put them at great risk. No mastermind, no killing game. Unless… the mastermind themselves didn’t matter to the continuation of the game?
Five sets of fifty-two.
Five murders, cut, reset.
Five murders, roll credits, new game.
Was his theory true? Was this the proof he had been waiting for?
No, not quite. These files certainly supported his theory, but weren’t hard evidence. Conjecture might be enough to pull them through a weak spot or two in a class trial, but he needed something irrefutable to pull this off.
Maybe one of the others would find something. Maybe he hadn’t looked in the right places yet. This, well, it didn’t change everything , because he’d had a sneaking suspicion since the beginning. He’d hoped that Monokuma would slip up eventually if he kept making not-so-subtle “jokes” about an audience and entertainment value, but the first went ignored and the second tended to be brushed off by the group as him being annoyingly dramatic. So, no, nothing really changed , but he had a path now.
Eyeing the bookshelf, Kokichi replaced the single file he had taken and crouched down to look at the bottom row. The one he had seen featured humans, but Amami had mentioned illustrations, hadn’t he? Pulling out the first one proved that claim to be correct. He was looking at a drawing of a teenage girl, stabbed in a bathroom, bleeding pink blood. The next was a head injury, then a double murder (both of which were similar head injuries), then apparently a poison-suicide…
He replaced the file and pulled the next out halfway before stopping. If he was going to read each file, it would probably be easier to pile them all on the table then sit on the floor. The room might get a bit messy, but Amami wouldn’t mind. Hell, Monokuma might even clean everything up like he did murders. Unlikely, but possible.
Kokichi grabbed the ten files off the bottom row before dropping them on the table and turning to grab the next ten. Two-hundred sixty cases… did he have time to read them all? He dropped the stack on the table. Didn’t matter. He’d have to make time. Momota’d just have to deal with Kokichi pulling an all-nighter or two.
Hmm… If he wanted to use this as evidence, he should probably write down everything that seemed important. He had no doubt that he’d remember everything super important, but he didn’t want to mess up the small details because he mixed up a case or two. Two-hundred sixty murders was a lot of information, after all. ...Yeah, even if he had all the time in the world, he wouldn’t be able to go through all of this at once.
Thankfully, this was a detective’s lab. There were a few notebooks and several freshly-sharpened pencils sitting neatly on the corner of the desk holding several beakers. Apparently no one had gone through the desk in search of chemistry help.
Kokichi took a calming breath and sat down at the table, setting down the notebook and pencil as he reached for the first file, and set it off to the side. He had already read that one. It was unlikely he’d feel a need to jot down any information for these first few; when it began switching to real people, however… Well, that was still a ways off.
He felt time slip away from him as he sat, leafing through page after page and noting name after name, death after death. If he let himself stop to think, really think about what he was reading, he knew he wouldn’t be able to finish. In that timeless daze, detached from emotion, it was no wonder he missed the telltale signs that he was slipping.
Who falls asleep while reading about murders anyways?
He did, apparently.
Waking up to Momota standing over him had been a shock, to say the least. How had he even fallen asleep? It wasn’t like murders were relaxing .
He still wasn’t sure he had made the right choice in being so… open. Kokichi had teased Momota for his memory problems, but it was doubtful he’d forget that conversation. Admitting that he was trying to keep people away… well, the usual provoke-and-run strategy probably wouldn’t work on Momota anymore. Not that it was all that effective in the first place; Momota was just as stubborn as he was, and their early nighttime truces had nipped any genuine hostility in the bud.
Sometimes he wondered if it would’ve been better, if destroying the game would’ve been easier, had he kept his distance. Played up how fun and exciting the game was when you played it right. Transformed himself into a chessmaster of a villain who could stop the game by force of will.
Momota probably would’ve hated him, then.
Holding the prototype BugVac close to his chest, Kokichi held his breath and as he slowly shut the door behind him. Momota had stuck around for a little before retiring to his room in a hurry, loudly exclaiming that he was tired and going to sleep for the night, and Kokichi should do the same.
Idiot.
Trying to act as if Kokichi didn’t already know, as if he hadn’t known since the third motive sprung up and Momota’s symptoms were so different than the others. As if a hasty retreat would cover the sudden paleness of his face or shakiness of his hand as he tried to not look panicked.
While Kokichi appreciated the moment of levity, the stark reminder that he was fighting against an unknowable time limit set things in perspective. He had to break the game now , and hope whoever was on the other side could save Momota.
He shook his head. Thinking of future what-ifs wouldn’t help anyone. He had a job to do now , and he couldn’t afford to get distracted when he was sneaking around (hopefully) out of sight of the mastermind. Gonta’s BugVac was a tried and true invention, and a stolen microscope from Yumeno’s lab confirmed the strange bugs she had mentioned were actually tiny cameras. Kokichi wasn’t entirely sure how the camera swarms worked to form a large, clear picture, but he wouldn’t dare try his riskier exploits without the invention running interference. He couldn’t risk the mastermind figuring out what he was up to before he had any plans in motion.
His dreamless sleep earlier had been a complete accident, born of pure exhaustion. Even if Kokichi wanted to sleep now, it would either elude him or put him at the mercy of his imagination when he had various murder methods on the brain. Neither was an ideal situation. Of course, cramming more death into his head was far from an ideal solution, but it was at least a productive one.
Before that, though, he wanted to take a peek at that vault. According to Momota trial and error had failed, and Amami had gone off to search for the hint apparently hidden somewhere within school grounds. Kokichi’s brow furrowed as he thought. There was that weird stone Yumeno had found way back when… could that have something to do with it?
The door was even more ominous at night, the only lightsource being the moonlight shining into the main room of the fourth floor, silver highlights emphasizing how eerie the blood-and-weapons pattern was. It really didn’t fit the Momota he knew, but Monokuma himself had declared it the unknown ultimate’s lab. Of course, because Monokuma was a dick, the room was left unlabelled on the Monopad map.
The door creaked as he opened it because of course it did. He needed to find a flashlight if this kept up. There was a desk lamp in Amami’s lab if he wanted to read, but Kokichi had been relying on natural light this whole time; that wouldn’t do in this windowless room.
He made a valiant effort not to trip as he made his way to the back wall, too impatient to wait for his eyes to properly adjust. The room was a real mess, even if it was an artfully crafted one. There was just stuff everywhere .
Miraculously, Kokichi succeeded at not faceplanting into a pile of rose thorns. He absolutely did not have to catch himself by slamming a palm against the back wall after tripping over a stray mannequin arm. That never happened.
By the time he hit the back wall his eyes adjusted adequately enough for him to be able to read the giant dials. ...There had to be something ridiculously small in this vault, because the only reason for the door to be this damn big was for the comedic effect of someone missing whatever was inside on first glance.
Dials A and B, huh? B had astrological signs, and A had… zodiac animals.
...It was Momota’s lab. It should really be Momota who opens the vault, even if he or Amami gave him half the answer. Kokichi knew he wasn’t exactly the most forthcoming with information, but this was something that… it would just feel wrong, to not tell Momota a secret hidden in his own lab.
Kokichi bit his lip, curiosity and nerves at war.
...He could come up with Momota tomorrow, right after breakfast. Say he wanted a look at the vault, and remind him of the weird “Horse A” message most everyone had probably forgotten about if Amami didn’t bring it up first. Assuming Amami found the stone while combing the school for the hint. Dial A - Horse was half the combination. After that is was simple trial and error like Momota had said hours before, except this time there were only twelve possibilities instead of one-hundred forty-four. Easy peasey. No one would ever know he had taken a sneak peek at the contents of the vault.
And, if he checked it now… he’d be ready for whatever happened when Momota opened the vault. It was something from Monokuma and the mastermind, and such a thing shouldn’t be trusted so easily. Best case scenario it was the next flashback light, in which case Kokichi could just shut the vault and lock it. Worse case, it was the next motive. He frowned. A motive in Momota’s lab had a high chance of being specific to Momota. Monokuma hadn’t played fair in earlier cases, and with Momota’s personal time limit ticking down…
Kokichi trusted that Momota would not commit a murder. Not even if he was dying. But he had a hard enough time forcing the cheer in his voice on a good day, and whatever was in here… probably wouldn’t help him.
Kokichi could play as many songs or pull as many pranks as he liked, but he wasn’t a miracle worker. There was a point when things were just too much. He refused to let Momota get to that point.
He turned the A dial to “horse”, wincing at the obnoxiously loud clanging. When that was set he turned to dial B, resting on what he had to assume was a Monokuma-fied Pisces fish. The vault failed to open. Clang!
Turning the dial clockwise brought up an Aries ram. No luck. Clang!
Taurus, bull. Clang!
Gemini, twin bears.
….No clang. The vault opened on its own with the soft sound of an opening lock, and Kokichi silently thanked himself for deciding to go clockwise. As he predicted, behind the grandeur and exaggerated show of the doors was the smallest prize: a single flash drive. It was decorated to look like Monokuma. Almost like fandom merch.
Still, what was he supposed to do with a flashdrive? The only computer around was the giant one a floor down that he was kind of afraid to mess with. Kokichi wasn’t even sure it had a port for flash drives. That entire room was focused on the virtual reality the Monokubs had praised, so it was possible the computer was built specifically for that virtual world and nothing else. Wait, only computer…?
There had been a laptop in here earlier, hadn’t there? He didn’t see Momota or Amami around it when he poked his head in, and Momota hadn’t taken it back with him, Kokichi would’ve noticed. It was possible Amami took it, but what reason would he have to do that if he had left in search of a clue to the vault?
It had been in front of a seat to the left of the room when he had seen it, so Kokichi closed the vault for now -- those doors may have only been for show, but man were they heavy -- and took careful steps towards the table. He could make out a chair in the dim light, and reached for the edge of the table. The laptop was likely closed, so it might be hard to spot. Feeling for it would be a lot easier.
After a few seconds of walking along the table his hand brushed against cool metal - the laptop. He set down the BugVac, reaching to pull the laptop closer open it, squinting to find the power button. Earlier, he had thought it might be out of power - but if this laptop was intended to be used with this flashdrive, it was unlikely Monokuma would leave it unusable. Kokichi was proven right seconds later as the screen light up, the sudden bright white light nearly blinding. He set down the flashdrive and tapped the button to lower screen brightness a few times as his empty hand reached behind him to find and pull up the nearest chair.
Now seated, Kokichi plugged in the flash drive and waited for the laptop to open the files. After a few seconds the window opened to reveal a single video saved on the laptop. His heart almost stopped. The thumbnail was clearly Momota, and the background matched the lab. But the lab had only opened earlier that day, and Momota said they hadn’t been able to open the vault. He had been alone for a good portion of the day, apparently, but what would he get out of recording a video and hiding it inside a vault he claimed to have never opened?
The mouse hovered over the still image.
Kokichi hit play.
…..
……..
...Ultimate… Survivor…?
Momota had been in multiple killing games…?
This was his “last shot”...?
Kokichi felt like he was going to be sick. The lab… the Ultimate Survivor Lab… He took a deep breath. Focus, Kokichi. Focus.
Assuming it was in fact Momota that had, at some point, recorded this video, several things clicked into place. The video Momota knew he was going to lose his memories - the forced amnesia lined up with the memory manipulation technology shown in the flashback lights. If the mastermind could implant memories, who’s to say they couldn’t take away memories as well? That was a whole can of worms and existential crisis Kokichi didn’t have the time to think about.
Multiple killing games. This wasn’t Momota’s first. Was this the proof he had been looking for in Amami’s lab? To think, it had been hidden next door - wait. Kokichi’s eyes widened. The files. Fifty-two sets of five cases. If Momota, had been in a previous killing game, then--
Leaving the laptop behind but grabbing the BugVac he raced back to the Detective Lab and the mess he had left on the back table. Everything was just as he left it, meaning the top few shelves still held their case files. Dragging over a chair to use as a stepstool, Kokichi reached for the second --and last-- file on the top shelf. File number fifty-two. In the pale moonlight falling through the door he frantically flipped through the images, scanning faces.
He didn’t recognize any of them, of course, how could he?
Would Momota recognize any of them, if Kokichi showed him the pictures? Could the names and faces of people he might’ve once known stir his memory, or was the memory loss so absolute he would never remember? Kokichi knew Momota hadn’t given up, per se, on remembering, but he had let that goal fall to the wayside in order to focus on escaping with the rest of them.
The video Momota had said “you survived the last killing game”, which meant this had to be the one, right? There were around thirty or so games with real people, assuming there were no game or anime killing games after they finally switched. Was there any way to know for sure, though?
...The photos. There were photos on the walls of Momota’s lab. They could be generic photos of random people, but wouldn’t an audience who watched a killing game go nuts over a split-second nod to a past favorite? ...Ugh, he felt gross just thinking about it.
He took the BugVac and the file and made his way back to the laptop. Setting the machine down on the table and balancing the laptop on one arm, he bumped it back up to full brightness and pointed it at the wall to reveal the five photographs grouped together. Kokichi flipped through the fifty-second file with his other hand, eyes darting back and forth between the two sets of photos.
Only one match: a young girl with black hair styled in braided loops interwoven with a purple ribbon. Her name, according to the file, was Chigusa Chikako. Ultimate Perfume Chemist.
She had killed two people.
Kokichi shut the file and reached back for the chair, turning it just enough for him to fall back into the seat. It was one match, but that was proof, wasn’t it? A video claiming past killing games, a photo -- one that he now realized matched the podium stands for the deceased, of course, it all made sense now -- that matched with the case files in Amami’s lab, the fifty-second file in a long series of files. With a bit more time, he could undoubtedly match more. He was absolutely, one-hundred percent convinced.
This killing game was not the first, and unless Kokichi pulled off the perfect plan, it would not be the last. He had to get to work immediately--
But first.
Kokichi ejected the flashdrive and held it in front of the glowing screen. This flashdrive held… well, not everything Momota had been looking for, but some pretty big pieces. However, those pieces… knowing his talent but not knowing the specific circumstances that led to getting it? Hell, not knowing was eating away at Kokichi. How badly would it shake Momota, that people had died and he couldn’t remember them? Would likely never remember them?
He could not let Momota watch this video.
On the other hand, if he took the video, no one else would be able to support his claims if he brought this up in a trial.
On a third hand, if the others saw this, it would undoubtedly cast suspicion on Momota. Kokichi trusted him, but even he was feeling a bit wary in the wake of all this information. Some, like Yonaga, might quickly label Momota the mastermind if they were allowed the chance to jump to conclusions without further information.
Kokichi powered down the laptop and set it back approximately where it had been before. His fist tightened around the flashdrive as he faced the vault before he forced himself to relax with a deep breath. This was for the best.
He pocketed the flash drive, picked up the BugVac, and - with a quick detour to drop the case file back on the table in Amami’s lab - returned to his room.