Uso dayo!

This couldn't be happening.

He'd seen the tapes. The archived historic documentation. Explain in detail what was happening. How the killing game worked. Kokichi knew from beginning to end what they were in for the moment the body discovery announcement had played. From the moment he'd come face to face with the first casualty of this nightmare scenario.

History repeating itself in the form of Ran crumpled in a pool of his own blood and the crushing dread that it had been one of his closest friends who had done it.

And yet as the collar descended from the ceiling to whisk Kei away—Kei, Kokichi still couldn't comprehend—it only now struck him how truly screwed they all were.

That's right. The executions of the Blackened were publicized.

The piano rose from the ground in the execution chamber with a rumble, and despite her acceptance, Kei's confused scream reverberated out as she was dumped unceremoniously on the comically large keys. Kokichi looked apprehensively around at the others, gauging their reactions. Of course they all didn't remember a thing. This would all be completely unexpected to them.

They were meant to watch.

Watch as the shining beacon of the group was made an example of.

A hush fell over the chamber as Monokuma lifted his arms in a mocking pantomime of a conductor. The Monokubz flanked the piano with ropes and pulleys. The rope on the collar was pulled taught, yanking Kei to her feet and leaving her to balance precariously on her tip-toes on the keys.

Kei, the cheer and music of their group.

Monokuma waved his arms, and the recital began. Kokichi and the others could do nothing but watch.

Kei, the heart and soul.

Watch as she was lifted and dragged by her neck across the keys, choking and grasping at the collar to alleviate the pressure any way she could.

Kei, who was first to check in on you after a mission.

Watch as she was plunked down on key after key, the briefest respite as she was allowed a gasp or cough of air.

Kei, who'd laid with Ran on the floor, talking out his frustrations after he'd destroyed the kitchen in a fit of rage.

Watch as her feet scrabbled at the keys for purchase as she was lifted again and again, pressing them at random in a garish, off-key mash of notes.

Kei, who'd shined through to everyone even after forgetting, bringing them all together again.

Watch in abject horror as the minutes dragged on into hours, as her gasps turned into wheezes, her face turning red and then blue and the purple, each note only giving her just enough air to barely take her to the next, as it slowly dawned on them all that piano recitals typically last for up to two hours.

Kei... Who was no longer Kei but Akamatsu.

A stranger wearing Kokichi's dear friend's face.

Just like a real recital, there was a cruel fifteen-minute intermission. Nobody could actually leave, the execution chamber eerily quiet save for the choked wheezes of Akamatsu tip-toeing helplessly on the keys, unable to speak without wasting precious air, only able to look down at them with pleading eyes. Kokichi averted his gaze. No one said a word, dumbstruck and horrified at the cruelty. What could they have possibly said in this situation?

Some had dispersed throughout the chamber—Yumeno, Chabashira, Shirogane, Kiibo, Hoshi—huddled in the corner, not wanting to humiliate Akamatsu further by watching the pathetic display.

And some—Saihara, Harukawa, Shinguuji, Toujou, Momota—maybe because it was the only thing they could do, maybe because it felt cruel to let her die alone, with no one acknowledging the horror, forced themselves to keep watching.

And then it began all over again, faster.

Kokichi continued to watch with them. For Kei's sake. For Akamatsu's sake.

Akamatsu, who didn't listen to a word Kokichi had said.

Continued to watch as her eyes rolled back in her head, the light finally starting to leave them as her raw, bloody fingers slipped from the collar.

Akamatsu, who just assumed she'd known best because she had everyone's best interests at heart.

Continued to watch as they continued to play for another forty minutes after her body went still, swinging her lifeless corpse across the keys.

Akamatsu, who took the stupid risk to take down the Mastermind herself. To kill, and now Ran was dead, and now she was, too.

Continued to watch as by the end, as if that hadn't been enough, the lid slowly swung closed, snapping down on her like the jaw of a monster, reducing her body to an unrecognizable, dehumanized splatter of blood and gore sent spraying all over the remaining members.

Akamatsu, the Blackened, no more.

But still, at least to Kokichi, undeniably Kei.

Stubborn, overoptimistic Kei, whom Kokichi had failed to protect from herself.

How could he, their true leader, the only one who knew who they all were, have been so useless...?

The timing, the proximity to their hideout, everything, all of it.

Dogs barking in the distance—too close for comfort—haunted the darkness as Kokichi ducked into the crumbling remains of a building. They'd all scattered the moment he'd given the word. It was like clockwork, everyone darting into the night, just like they'd all practiced hundreds and hundreds of times before. The only difference had been the circumstances. Someone had been watching them for a while on their trek home.

This was hardly a drill.

Shouts joined the barking, closing in, and Kokichi clasped a hand over his mouth to stifle this ragged breaths. Why were there so many? What were they doing here? Where did they come from? They'd chosen their location well—not a settlement nor even a camp for miles, deep in the recesses of No Man's Land, far outside of their jurisdiction. Their priorities. Kokichi couldn't wrap his head around it.

Slowly, carefully, he skulked through the darkness. He needed to get to higher ground—no, that would just be a convenient dead end, wouldn't it? He needed to know where everyone was, though. That they were okay. He could figure out the details later.

More than anything, he needed to find Kai and Kii.

Kokichi peered over the sill of a window, keeping low to the ground, gauging the whereabouts of his pursuers. Out in the street, a trio of people convened, a dog straining on its leash among them. The pressed uniforms were unmistakable.

"Did you see where any of them went?"

"Division C followed several into the forest to the west." That must have been Ran with Go and Kei.

"What about their ringleader?" How did they know about that?

"I think most of them fled deeper into the city—"

Kokichi didn't have the chance to learn any more as the dog lunged in the direction of his hiding place. He ducked before its handler could stop him and escaped deeper into the building. They likely wouldn't expect him to go up, would they? He needed a better vantage point. Besides, he knew Kai wasn't the type to creep enclosed spaces like he did.

There was a crash and bang in the room behind him just as he skirted into the stairwell.

Too late to change course, Kokichi made a break up the stairs. As he turned onto the landing, he spotted the dog barreling in through the door he'd entered not seconds before, barking at his heels. His heart pounded in his chest as he swung onto the second flight. The second floor, he just needed to get through the door and he could slam it closed—

Except there was no door on the second floor, collapsed onto the floor after its hinges had given way to rust.

Okay, third floor it was.

His lungs burned as he scrambled up the next flight. He couldn't tell how close the beast was, the barking echoing up and down the stairwell in an ear-splitting cacophony. He didn't risk looking back to check. Slowing down would be his downfall here. He blew past the landing, tearing up the second flight, and he swore he could feel it snap at his ankles.

He wasn't going to make it.

He would make it.

He wasn't gonna make it.

He had to—

The metal door slammed shut in the mongrel's face, and Kokichi collapsed to the floor, wheezing.

He didn't have time to rest at this point. What the hell was he supposed to do now? The door rattled as the dog scratched and pounded against it. Those damn agents couldn't be far behind. Was it too much to ask for a single moment of respite to catch his breath and think?

He coughed and spat as he dragged himself back to his feet. A look around the room told Kokichi that it was an old office building he'd taken as his poorly-conceived refuge of the night. Desks were littered about the open space in disrupted cubicles. He waste no time lunging for the nearest desk and dragging it to the door as a makeshift barricade. It'd buy him some time at least, but as much as it'd keep those agents out, it kept him in.

The elevator door was closed, blocking access to the shaft. Kokichi opened a window and peered down at the street below. The third floor was too high up to escape out here.

So now what?

A jarring screech sent a jolt up Kokichi's spine as the desk budged ever to slightly. They were trying to ram their way in. He didn't have much time, so he would just have to make time.

It was time to do what he did best.

The desk screeched across the floor as the three agents finally forced the door open into the empty office space, and Kokichi thanked every star in the sky that it didn't tip over. He couldn't see them as they fanned out to search, a hand clasped over his mouth to stifled the sounds of his breathing.

"Where did he go?"

"Hey, the window's open."

"You're telling me he jumped from the third floor?"

"Start checking under desks. The brat has to be hiding here somewhere."

The voices got fainter as they made their way to the farthest parts of the room, just as Kokichi had hoped. He peeked around from beneath the barricade desk, gingerly rubbing the back of his head where it'd hit him as it was pushed by the door. The agents' backs were turned from the door, the thought of their target hiding under the barricade itself lost on them. Ever so quietly, he backed up, back towards the stairwell door.

What he'd neglected to account for, unfortunately, was the Doberman they'd left guarding the exit.