Authors Note: This work contains major spoilers for Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc. Additionally, there will be minor spoilers for Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair, Danganronpa Another Episode: Ultra Despair Girls, and the anime Danganronpa 3: The End of Hope's Peak. Essentially the entirety of the Hope's Peak Arc. Nothing from V3 is mentioned or spoiled, however.

When Kiyotaka Ishimaru first set foot in the well-polished hallways of Hope's Peak Academy, he saw sprawling before him a future of hope and success. Inhaling deeply and letting his sturdy chest puff out with pride, the scent of order and disinfectant filled his lungs with optimism. This was it, he told himself, enthusiastic red eyes scanning every single detail they could latch onto, this was the beginning of great things for the Super-High-School-Level Hall Monitor.

This was, in many ways, a fresh start for Kiyotaka. He came from a family of geniuses, whose success had almost solely relied on their inherited capabilities. With little effort, they bloomed into great people of significant stature, none more so than his grandfather, the late Toranosuke Ishimaru. Former Prime Minister of Japan, the man had run the country into the dirt and embroiled he and his family in several earth-shattering scandals that had haunted Kiyotaka since childhood. The arrogance of the genius had a tendency to cause their own downfall, Kiyotaka noted. Thankfully, he himself was by no means a genius.

He would succeed without failure. He would restore honour to his family name and become the most successful person the Ishimaru clan had ever seen. Not through dumb luck or being a genius. No, he would achieve his goals through hard work. He was intelligent, and he was determined, and with both of those traits powering him onward, he could do anything. Hope's Peak was a starting point for him. A chance to prove himself, and an opportunity to mingle with like-minded others.

Or so he thought.

Several other students, apparently from his class, the 78th Class in the school's illustrious history, were scattered around the lobby of the building, and he observed them carefully. Likewise, they returned the gesture, eyes fixated upon him as he approached. They certainly weren't what he had expected, that was certain. Here he was, adorned in perfectly ironed school attire, eager and ready to learn, only to realise that he stood out like a sore thumb. This had not been his intention.

Where were their uniforms, he wondered? Where was their school spirit on this, the first day of the rest of their lives? What were those two girls (twins, he assumed) whispering about, and why did the girl with the giant glasses keep fidgeting and muttering to herself, eyeing him with extreme caution? These weren't really his classmates, were they? They were too casual. Too relaxed. Totally without any sign of effort!

"Greetings everyone," he said with great enthusiasm, back as straight as the twenty-seven rulers neatly stored in his satchel bag of school supplies, "I am Kiyotaka Ishimaru!" He saluted.

Hesitantly, and some feeling just a little bit forced, various faces made their own introductions, declaring their names with varying levels of interest and confidence. Some he found interesting. Like the shy little girl who claimed to be an expert programmer whom called herself Chihiro, the towering figure named Sakura who stated herself to be the strongest human being alive, followed by Asahina, the master of swimming. Others blended together and didn't stand out to him as much, like the overweight artist and the boy with the ahoge. A couple in particular even intimidated him. Seriously, an 'Ultimate Biker' had no place in a respectable learning environment.

"Who are they?" He asked the girl named Asahina quietly, gesturing towards the three girls whom hadn't bothered to introduce themselves. One with purple hair, along with the two sisters. The purple-haired girl paid him and the others no interest, but the other two continued to monitor everyone else with scrutiny.

"I think her name is Kyouko," she replied, pointing over to the purple-haired one. She then turned her focus to the sisters. "That there's Junko Enoshima. Really famous model. The other one, well, that's her sister. I think."

The girl named Junko must have heard them talking about her, Kiyotaka thought, considering how she suddenly looked at them with unbothered eyes, casually blew a sizeable pink bubble with the gum in her mouth, only to turn away once it had popped, returning to her chewing and whispering. The hall monitor didn't care for the girl's attitude, but he was relieved that she wore something that at least barely resembled a uniform. She, along with the twitchy author, the girl idol and the world's strongest woman, seemed to be the only people wearing uniforms apart from him. Pity, he thought.

The group, over this, the day of their induction, began to become better acquainted with each other, and conversations were gradually becoming less awkward. Already, Kiyotaka found himself developing his likes and dislikes. Junko was self-obsessed, he noted. Byakuya saw himself as superior to everyone else. Hagakure had no idea what he was talking about, and Celestia (or, rather, "Celeste", as she insisted on being called) had a penchant for gambling. Still, he noticed, not a single mention of hard work or dedication.

Without a doubt, his worst fears were coming true. He was in a class filled with geniuses; people so good at what they did with considerably minute effort, that they felt no need to input any effort at all. This was exactly the opposite of what he had hoped for.

But he wouldn't despair. These people were his fellow students now. They were his comrades. His family! Their happiness made him happy, and he would dedicate himself to ensuring that their class was as successful as humanly possible. Even if they were divided between the hyper and the moody, the bitter and the manic, they were all in this together!

This was the ideology Kiyotaka Ishimaru clung to for most of his school life. They were family. They were friends. They were, at heart, mostly good people. They had dreams, just as he did, and they wanted to see them come true. He cared for them, and he grew to appreciate their quirks and their imperfections. Hours grew into days, which in turn grew into weeks and then into months, and the time seemed to fly past, until they were fully-fledged students whom knew Hope's Peak like the back of their hands.

It was during this time, however, that Kiyotaka began to develop a severe allergy to one trait the entire group seemed to possess. One awful, terrible trait that he wished would disappear, and that he took steps to actively correct: Disorder.

Hope's Peak was not what he had expected it to be. There were no textbooks. There were no assignments. There were no pop quizzes or tests to be challenged on. Seldom were classes even held. 'Disappointment' was the only word capable of even coming close to summing up the Hall Monitor's feelings towards the situation. His classmates were so obsessed with enjoyment, with splashing in the pool and dashing around the running track, that they seemed to either forget about, or outright reject, the concept of a basic education. They wasted their time hanging out with each other, safe in the knowledge that their inherent skills would guarantee them success regardless of how much effort they put in.

While they played games in the arcade room, Kiyotaka studied. While they lounged around, Kiyotaka exercised. True, he was still close to them, and they treated him like a true friend as they did everyone else, but Kiyotaka couldn't help but feel like an outcast. Was he truly the only one who cared about bettering himself, he wondered? Was he the only one who had any hope or ambition for the future? Was he the only one who gave a damn about the lack of care being shown by their school?

It was a question he didn't need answered. He knew he was. Order and rules mattered little to the 78th Class of Hope's Peak.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru was well-liked by his peers and surrounded by friends, and yet he always felt alone, no matter the circumstance. He watched powerlessly as his friends exchanged ambition for temporary enjoyment, all the while shrugging him off whenever he recommended they start attending classes, or suggested decent reading material.
Kiyotaka Ishimaru didn't like an environment without order. He needed rules and a solid routine to survive. When such principles were tossed out the window with a carefree smile, his own future was being impacted, and the world didn't give a damn.

And that?

That wasn't fair.