.

Howls and wails break through the air. Fire licks at the sky, blood splatters the grounds of the previously pristine school, and bodies of the Main Course students drop like flies before the Reserve Course's rampage. The 77th Class can hear them, the sounds of the Tragedy instilling a bone chilling despair, horror, satisfaction and delight in their bones. It's a combination that makes some of them want to cry but they're shushed by the others; it is time, after all

And Yukizome-sensei is talking, a cheerful bob in the screams that fill their heads, but she and the pandemonium outside are wonderful distractions against the burning, aching, hollow reminder of the seat in the back of the classroom, empty, where a vase with flowers, gimmicks, and some small containers are placed on the desk.

(If they focus too long on the ghost of the person that's supposed to be there, they will probably just... sit there and die, given the events that will transpire in the next minutes. That cannot happen. No one in the 77th class is allowed to die; it's what Nanami would've wanted.)

The school they've lived in for years is dying from the inside out.

(For the past months, they have been dying from the inside out, every single day. It's your turn, they want to tell the school.)

They smile at this, terrible and cold and pleased.

They deserve it, a voice whispers in their minds. They deserve it; they let Enoshima in the school, they started the Kamukura Project, they let Nanami die, they allowed Nanami to die.

The Ultimate Housekeeper finishes her speech and smiles. Her eyes are mad with despair and she looks so much like Enoshima that they want to scream and gouge them out. But that won't help them or Yukizome-sensei. This Yukizome-sensei is not the Yukizome-sensei that called them rotting oranges and bodily dragged them to class at the start of the year; she has been broken, she has been turned into a monster, and this monster killed Nanami, and they've had to allow this monster to live with them for the sake of avenging Nanami.

They hate this Not-Yukizome-sensei, but they had loved Yukizome-sensei and they love Nanami and so, for the past months, they can only look at Not-Yukizome-sensei and refrain the urge to stab her to death. It's good practice for everyone. Enoshima has not come greet them face to face (a shame, says Kuzuryuu) but it doesn't matter because there are other targets that are just as infuriating but too important to simply wipe out.

(Did you know, everyone? Those people all bear responsibility for our class rep's execution, Not-Yukizome-sensei whispers mischievously, pointing at several people including the head of security and Headmaster Kirigiri Jin. Not-Yukizome-sensei grins, pointing at herself with Enoshima's smile in her eyes. Especially me~

It is times like those, when Not-Yukizome-Sensei flaunts her involvement in Nanami's death and watches with a broad smile as they all stiffen, that it is the hardest not to see Enoshima and reach for something to hurt— But no, that's not what Nanami would want, it's what Not-Yukizome-sensei wants.)

It feels like they're fraternizing with Nanami's killer.

It's disgusting. It's revolting.

It makes their stomach roll and guts twist and feel like maggots are leisurely chewing out their windpipes—

The feeling is wholly welcomed, in some cases even sought after; they don't deserve any less. Sorry excuses of classmates like them do not deserve anything less than that crushing agony that devoured them in the throes of Nanami's execution, and the pain is fresh, even months after that, but they think that it cannot be enough. Nothing will ever be enough.

"Goodbye, everyone." Yukizome-sensei says.

They hate Enoshima and they hate Hope's Peak and they hate Not-Yukizome-sensei (just like they hate themselves). But Nanami loved (loves) Yukizome-sensei. And maybe they did, once upon a time; but soon enough that will be ash and cinders. They hate the woman that helped kill Nanami but they (Nanami) had loved the cheerful, bubbly woman she used to be.

(It doesn't really matter that Not-Yukizome-sensei doesn't worship Enoshima the way her other minions do, they're still the same, and the only thing stopping the 77th Class from doing something are the memories embedded into these walls, a thin barrier of melancholy and rememberance and mutual grief, the same chord that is holding the students of the 77th Class together. But that is as far as it goes. Not-Yukizome-sensei revers in Nanami's death and the despair it brings her while the students of the 77th Class hate it - hate it with a fervent passion that makes them hate everything else.

As soon as these walls are torn down, this thin barrier broken into little pieces, all of them know that their alliance is over. Not-Yukizome-sensei will go on with her agenda and they will go on their own.)

They won't kill Not-Yukizome-sensei now. No one in the 77th class is allowed to die while this classroom stands, and that is one of the reasons it must be torn down as well. This classroom, this school. (Everything.)

Not-Yukizome-sensei looks at each of them and smiles even wider, spirals of despair swirling madly in her eyes as she says, "Let's meet again in the future, my precious students."

There won't be a next time, Yukizome-sensei.

If there is, we will probably end up trying to kill you.

(No one in the 77th Class is allowed to die.)

Then, she presses the button, and their classroom goes up in flames.

It reminds them of the flames at Nanami's funeral.

.

.

It's easy to get out of the building, past the corpses and students and flames. They are Ultimates, an entire class of Talents held together by the memory of a dead person. Komaeda's luck ensures that no debris or pieces of the crumbling academy crush them. Pekoyama cuts down students with an icy expression and Nidai has no choice but to pick up a sobbing, laughing Owari, who had effortlessly broken the spines and necks of 6 students and promptly broke down. A dazed Koizumi has to be dragged away by Saionji, having focused too intently on snapping shots of everything to care about the axe that nearly took her head off. The student that makes that attempt is dead 2.6 seconds later, courtesy of Kuzuryuu and the sharpened, heated leg of a chair.

They make it to a fair distance before Mioda suddenly turns, eyes blood shot and focusing intently in the direction of the dying academy.

They turn as well, and are greeted by the sight of the grand ending to Enoshima's little game.

Thump, thump, Mioda whispers, unblinking eyes focused on little stick figures falling down the buildings, even as the faint, far away laughter of students running into the fires caress the air like the moans of ghosts.

It's no secret that each of them despise Enoshima and are sickened and enraged by the mention of her; but satisfaction and horror and pleasure rears their heads in their subconsciousness and they bare their teeth in matching grins, despite feeling ill at the thought of Enoshima managing to conjure such reactions in them. But—

But—

The sight of Hope's Peak in flames and students jumping and running to their deaths is a terrible sight that makes some of them tremble and choke at, but they have smiles on their faces too. Everyone is smiling even though it feels like jagged cracks on their faces because one of the factors that broke their world is burning and it is glorious.

They hope this breaks Tengan Kazuo. They hope this breaks Headmaster Kirigiri. They hope this breaks Hope's Peak like it had broken their class.

(If it doesn't, then they will have to try harder, don't they?)

There is a moment of silence, except for the dull roar of flames and the faint laughter of the dead.

Then Komaeda speaks up.

"I'm aware this is not the right time, but..." Komaeda's smile is curiously friendly on the outside, but the 77th class know that he's just as terrible as them underneath it. "This probably counts as graduation, right?"

(Graduation was supposed to be a fun thing, a time full of decorations and food and games. They had planned it for a while now, back then. Nanami had been so excited.

She's dead now. There's no meaning in hanging up the decorations or preparing the food or digging the games out of the two storage rooms that Saionji had brow beaten the janitor into giving them. The sight of the consoles Nanami had stocked for the occassion had made them burst into tears or throw up or probably both, and Souda had broken down because he was the only one that knew how to pack them away and thus had been tasked with it. It was probably the first time Sonia didn't back away from his presence as she sat by his side, hand comfortingly rubbing circles on his back as he heaved post the first trip inside.

And because Nanami is dead - dead and ashes and six feet under - doesn't it make sense for graduation to be a pararell to that horrible truth? Full of death and hellfire and bodies six feet under.)

There are murmurs of agreement, until someone sniffles, "Nanami-san... wanted to graduate, too."

(And Enoshima took that away from her. Hope's Peak took that away from her. They took that away from her.)

(Each and every one of them will pay.)

.

In that moment, as they bask in the destruction of the school that failed Nanami, they are not aware of the vivid crimson eyes that watches them from a distance.

Kamukura Izuru absently rubs a thumb against the surface of a tiny hairpin, and ponders.

.

.

The 77th Class -or Komaeda- do not remember Izuru himself because Plot (or maybe they do, I'm undecided) but they are aware of the Kamukura Project. Perhaps not details, but they know Hope's Peak has performed human experimentation and, ehm, cough, they might've 'concluded' that the Experimental Subject (read: Kamukura Izuru) has taken part in some, cough cough, certain plans of Enoshima. Like, say, themurderofacertainGamertobrainwashherclassmates maybe?

This makes them very, very interested.

As for the hows... who knows, a certain despair-filled teacher might have conveniently left some... totally-inconspicuous-things around. Haha. *whistles*

(I COULD NOT RESIST DOING A SMALL TINY ITTY CAMEO OF IZURU I'M NOT SORRY.)

I wanted ch2 to be a look into Mikan's head because she's been brainwashed before being brainwashed again with the 77th Class, but I wasn't very satisfied. I thought to make the next chapters focusing on individual POVs of some of them, like Mahiru, but I'm not very confident in my character delving either. So we shall see. And I'm terrible at picking the right flow from a scene, hence the timeskip.

There are some things that aren't mentioned, like Junko's reaction and etc, but that's because I'm still undecided on how to go about them. I'm currently scouring wiki in my spare time or re-watching anime... sometimes... haha...

I was surprised by how many favorited and followed, and there are even some reviews! Honestly, I'm not sure how I managed to keysmash this thing when normally my inspiration sort of... dies after the first chapter. But anyways, thankyou! And I hope this hasn't disappointed too horribly.

~TenraiTsukiyomi