The crisp morning air is heavy with a thick layer of confoundment as Himiko Yumeno's drearier-than-usual eyes creak open for the first time that day.

It feels weird at first, akin to an unfinished summoning spell, waking up naturally rather than being awoken at the ungodly hours of morning to the daily thundering at the other side of her door, two shrill and cheery voices clashing yet melding with the other's; one preaching about Atua, and the other shrieking for her to get up and stick at their hip for the day, they'd acted as her alarm clock for longer than she can remember.

It's then she remembers.

Angie.

Tenko.

Korekiyo.

The events of the night prior flood and burn themselves into the magician's skull faster than a boiling witches potion. She feels the bile creep up her throat like a slimy toad at just the memories.

The memories of the only two people in the school that she felt somewhat open around, being murdered in ice cold blood by an insane femicide serial killer.

Rantaro had been killed in an attempt to expose the ringleader.

Ryoma had been killed for the sake of the nation.

So what did they do to deserve such a heinous, disgusting, selfish reason for being killed?

And even with all that being said, she still couldn't find it in herself to watch the anthropologist being boiled alive in front of her eyes (she still hates that he soiled a perfectly good-looking cauldron).

That in itself disgusted her even more.

To put it simply: Himiko Yumeno hates herself.

And she knows, oh, of course she knows, had Tenko and Angie escaped deaths rather sweet-looking embrace, that they'd be scolding her for being so down, scolding her for not wanting to move forward, scolding her for not wanting to live.

Hell, if ghosts even do exist in this world (which, according to their extremely trustworthy headmaster, they "totally do! Just find out for yourselves!") they're probably at either side of her right now, lamenting elegies of meaningless optimism to a pair of ears that refuse to listen.

But Himiko has her excuses. She always does

Excuses such as being too magically drained from the trial, the investigations that occurred beforehand, the pain of losing your two best friends to an incestuous lunatic.

She's also still reeling from the humiliation of her long-lasting "Sealing of the Feelings" curse being shattered quicker than a cursed mirror by the resident class liar.

It was Kokichi Ouma, self-proclaimed 'King of Liars' after all. Or, at least, that's what she told herself...

"God, Himiko is such a liar!

"But even then... I don't think it's good to lie to yourself, y'know?

"Himiko has been lying to herself about her own feelings, so she's been holding back.

"Hey, what are you repressing? Why are you trying so hard to hold back?

"Geez, Himiko, I get that being tired is like, your thing, but at least don't stoop to Shuichi's level!"

Himiko blinks. That last one didn't sound quite-

Her thoughts are swiftly cut off as a large weight is pressed down onto her head, her eyes are enveloped in a somewhat comforting darkness, and her vision goes for a few brief moments. A shadow curse, if she'd even seen one.

Fingers fumbling and curling madly at her lower jaw, Himiko yanks the large intruding item - confirmed to be her own bulky hat, off and out of her face. She squints at the light as she re-accustoms herself to her surroundings, only half registering the cross-armed white-clad figure standing at the end of her bed.

"Nyeh... NYEH!?"

The magician topples out of bed into a red and black heap onto the charcoal floor, the icy palm of the tile's surface cupping her cheek and instantly waking her up fully. She observes the supreme leader eyeing her down from her new spot on the floor, amethyst piercing dull ruby.

"H-how did you unlock the -" she trails off as she answers her own question, remembering that it was only yesterday that she'd eagerly watched Kokichi intricately pick open Angie's door's lock that ultimately showcased the artist's corpse mid-ritual, in all it's ironically painful glory.

"Y'know," the small boy starts, completely ignoring her confoundment at his sudden appearance, "I don't think Tenko would approve of you skipping breakfast like this, Himiko."

Himiko flinches at the former-martial artist's name being mentioned.

He locks his hands behind his head and lets out a low whistle. "Though I guess Kirumi wouldn't have either..." He scrunches his face up as his eyes focus on something just over Himiko's bed.

"Y'know, even ol' Rantaro had that 'Big Brother' vibe to him." His eyes light up. "Hey, maybe his talent was actually being the Ultimate Big -"

"What do you want, Kokichi?" Himiko doesn't even bother to berate the leader for bursting into her room. What was the point, what was the point, what was the p-

Kokichi clicks his tongue and examines his nails as he perches at the end of the bed. "I just figured I'd pop in to say hi before the others do."

Himiko blinks at Kokichi. "The... others?"

Kokichi opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. "Ah, you were totally passed out from crying so much!" He chuckles, bringing a hand to his face, "Silly of me to forget!"

Himiko feels her eyes narrow on their own as she watches the supreme leader laughing care-freely from her bed, but remains silent.

"After Gonta brought you back here," he gestures to the crumpled up blazer lazily strewn over her desk chair. "They said they'd all come back to check on you in the morning buuuut..." He kicks his legs out. "Something tells me that you wouldn't like that, am I right?"

The magician gets herself up, dusts herself down, uniform akin to that of a screwed-up ball of paper from sleeping in it the night prior, and watches the white-clad boy with cautious eyes.

He merely laughs in response. "What, you don't believe me?" He shrugs. "Find out for yourself then, but don't blame me when you have a hoard of overly-sappy parental wannabes barge in later on trying to coddle you to death." A shudder snakes its way down Himiko's spine at the way he emphasises that final word.

"Anyway, just wanted to let you know that you have that to look forward to later," He rolls his eyes and spins on his heel. "I'll see myself out then -"

"Wait."

"Hmm?" Kokichi spins back around to see the magician approaching him warily, hat clutched to her chest. He chuckles and takes a step back. "Relax, I wasn't going to murder you or anything." He raises an eyebrow. "You can't have really thought that, right?"

The supreme leader backs himself into the door of the bathroom as it's owner stands before him, eyes scanning him as though he were a target just waiting to be shot at. Himiko lowers her gaze and brings her hat up to cover her nose and mouth.

"Thank you."

Kokichi blinks. "Hmm."

Himiko glares at him, "I said thank you."

"For warning you of your impending future? For opening your door so you don't have to? For being a devilishly charming young man?" He grins. Guilty as charged!"

"No, not that! Just..." Kokichi raises an eyebrow as Himiko stumbles on her words.

"For yesterday."

"Yesterday?"

"After the trial..." The dark void of the tiled floor suddenly looks immensely interesting to Himiko as she attempt to spout out her feelings...

"Oh?" Kokichi leans forward, "What about it?"

Himiko takes a step back as she feels her neck slowly heat up despite the chilly temperature in her dorm room.

"Tellin' me to stop repress my feelings n'd all that... I... uh..." She fidgets on the spot as she feels the supreme leaders eyes boring onto her smaller form.

"T-thanks, I guess..."

Himiko takes a deep breath and her eyes slowly slide upwards to gauge Kokichi's reaction. To her surprise, he's merely staring back at her, eyes expressionless, mouth pulled into a tight line.

And then he smiles.

"Geez, you're such a baby, Himiko!"

"N-nyeh?!"

He mockingly raises an eyebrow. "I was obviously lying last night, couldn't you tell?"

Himiko's face drops. "Wait-what?!"

"Why would I want to help someone like you? All you've done since you got here is whinge and cry!" He tuts and ghosts his pale fingers over her bedroom door's handle, casting his gaze off to the side. "Y'know, someone who actually lived their life with positivity like Tenko and Angie would have been muuuuuch more deserving of surviving this killing game."

That remark goes straight to Himiko's heart.

Kokichi clicks his tongue. "To think that they were both murdered by a serial killer..." He visibly deflates in front of her, "It's so sad, y'know? To think their deaths didn't have any meaning because a crazy loonie like -"

"How dare you..."

Kokichi glances up. "Hmm?"

Himiko's head snaps up, eyes glassing over with tears threatening to drop.

"How DARE you say something like that about their deaths!" Kokichi blinks.

Himiko steadies herself against the wall, MP already well-and-truly drained for the day. "Their deaths..." she closes her eyes and inhales shakily, "their deaths were anything BUT meaningless."

A smirk crawls across Kokichi's visage. "Well, what can you do about that?"

Himiko glowers at him. "I..." she thinks for a moment, "I can make them have meaning myself."

"Mmhmm, if you say so, I guess... if you're not lying again, that is." Kokichi dismissively waves a hand as he opens the magician's door. "But that's gonna take an awful lot of work, you know, you know how liars in this academy are treated -"

He's cut off as the Monokubs' announcement rings across the campus, and he takes the opportunity to swiftly slip away before Himiko can protest again. She watches as the door slowly clicks closed behind him, the only sound audible after the announcement switches off being the pitter-patter of his shoes against the dorm hall flooring getting softer and softer.

She glances down at the hat sitting neatly in her hold.

And Himiko Yumeno steels her resolve.

"I feel as though that might have been Kokichi trying to motivate you, in his own way." Shuichi concludes, as Himiko finishes her tale.

The three of them sit at the centre of the large living room, eagerly rummaging through the collection of retrieved items from the set that hadn't been completely destroyed by Kiibo, courtesy of Team Danganronpa.

Himiko tilts her head, checkered scarf sliding out of her short red bob and fluttering to the floor, much to her chagrin. "Y'think so?"

The detective nods. "Yeah. I mean," he averts his eyes. "That's just a theory, of course, but knowing what we know now..." He meets Himiko's eyes again as the magician sighs.

"Why couldn't he have just said that then?" She puffs out her cheeks and reaches for a lime green ribbon embellished with leaves. "He didn't have to be so cryptic all the time."

Shuichi titters. "Ah, but remember, Tsumugi was watching with the Nanokumas, so he couldn't risk -"

"Yeah, but he didn't know they existed until we found them. And he was dead at that point."

Shuichi merely titters again. "He was always unreadable, wasn't he?" He sadly fiddles with a note-shaped hairpin. "Unreadable, even now."

"I can't believe he had a line for every possible scenario." Maki mumbles to herself as she flicks through the bible-thick book from Shuichi's other side, Himiko leaning over his lap to get a closer look.

"Do you see this?" The assassin runs her fingers over the coloured tabs of the script, each one aptly labelled after each of their then-surviving classmates (Himiko notices Maki's finger hesitate for a moment over the purple tab simply labelled 'M.K' at the end of the book, the content's of which had been messily ripped from the book's spine).

She shakes her head in disbelief as she sets the book down. "Even in the face of death, he..." She grimaces, "he was prepared for every single possible outcome..."

Himiko smirks at her. "You've said that six times now."

Maki blinks, then shakes her head. "I know, I know, it's just -" her eyes trail back down to the book. "If we'd have just known what he'd been trying to do, maybe things would have turned out differently" Maki takes a shaky breath as Himiko feels Shuichi tense up underneath her... maybe even he... and Kaito could have -"

She jumps up and walked briskly into the kitchen, bangs obscuring her face. The detective instinctively reaches up to grasp for a hat that wasn't there.

"I'll um... be back in a second, too." Shuichi says, eyeing the departing assassin's back. He turns to Himiko, and the two share a sombre, knowing look. "Do... you want anything from the kitchen?"

Himiko hums. "Just some milk."

Shuichi nods and makes his way out of the living room. Himiko tries her best to not listen to Shuichi attempting to comfort Maki again as she breaks down out of view in a flurry of sobs and apologies to the lost souls that cannot hear her, over the only truthful memories of their past, the remnants of which, they now held in their living room, for some reason.

Himiko picks up the rust-coloured book, trying her best not to gag at the sight of the now-extremely dried blood blotted throughout the worn white pages. Curiosity getting the better of her, she flips to the pink tab labelled 'Y.H'.

The first thing her eyes land upon makes her blood run cold.

"If the confession doesn't work/wears off, tease her by saying that she never denied me being 'devilishly handsome' that one time. She'll know exactly what you're referring to."

Himiko slams Kokichi's script shut, as a very small grim, yet somewhat nostalgic smile making it's way onto her face.

"Degenerate."