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dakotatrashbandit · 2 months ago

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HELLO GUESS WHO'S GOING TO TRY TO WRITE A REGULARLY UPDATING FIC!!!

I don't have ao3. uh. here.

Kamimura Kazutoshi and the Unfortunate Reality of Interpersonal Socialization

Chapters: 1/17

Fandom: Tetro Danganronpa Pink

Relationships: Kamimura Kazutoshi & Everyone

Additional tags: Alternate Universe - Dorm AU, Fluff, Humor, Some emotional stuff will probably find its way in here but this is a silly fic, 5+1, kind of, it's more of a 15+1, I don't know how to tag fics help

In which Kamimura Kazutoshi slowly and unwillingly gets to know the fifteen other freaks in his dorm building.

I'll try to update this weekly on Sundays but this is my first ever consistent fic and I'm Nervous. to say the least.

Thank you to @thewhimsicalenderdragon for betaing I love you

Prologue (How the Fuck Does One Get In This Situation?)

Kazutoshi was going to bash in someone’s fucking skull.

That was the only thought in his head as he slouched against an empty wall.

It might’ve been a bit overdramatic, but sleep-deprived, dehydrated, and altogether full of spite and malice as he was, he didn’t have the patience for another painfully optimistic orientation just for the freaks in his dorm. He didn’t exactly come to university to fuck around and socialize.

Unfortunately, he didn't exactly have a choice.

Wonderful.

He gazed around at the unfamiliar faces around him, registering them each in turn.

The first person he saw, a brown haired guy dressed in eyeball-scorching, headache-inducing red, was engaged in equally as eyeball-scorching, headache-inducing argument with a raven haired girl whose voice sounded unequivocally patronizing. A third glasses-wearer stood behind them awkwardly, rolling his eyes every time one of them made a particularly pointed jab.

On their right, another group buzzed with a cacophony of exchanging exceedingly louder personal information. Kazutoshi groaned internally. If he was going to live in the same building as these people, they’d better be able to fucking shut up.

Within the group, Kazutoshi’s eyes skimmed over a short blonde girl whose violent arm waving had probably been on the receiving end of several manslaughter charges, a willowy girl who wore the bright red against her dark skin much better, if Kazutoshi were to judge, and a tall, slender figure hidden under an altogether unnecessarily large coat. He shivered as his eyes fell upon their painted kitsune mask, looking away before the slits of those eyes could catch him staring.

In a farther back corner of the room, another trio was gathered. This time made up of a tall, broad shouldered guy whose tattoos made him look like he should be on the poster of a movie Kazutoshi would rather die than watch, a tiny blonde girl who looked at most, like, twelve, and a large straw hat. There was probably a guy under the hat, but Kazutoshi didn’t get that far before registering a much more significant detail about the group.

The guy in the hat had open a backpack, and peeking out of it like a housecat was a fucking tiger.

Kazutoshi blinked, hard. Who the fuck let this guy have a tiger? How did this get past the administration? Better yet, was he planning to keep the fucking thing?

Kazutoshi had heard stories about exotic animals found and kept as pets in college, but he’d expected, like, a peacock or something. He flinched as the tiny girl reached to pet the tiger. He wasn’t exactly ready to see a small child get her fingers bitten off by a tiger. Miraculously, the tiger just pushed its face into the girl’s hands, like it was a cat urging scritches. He looked around, baffled that no one seemed concerned about the apparently very real threat of getting mauled to death by an oversized housecat in the middle of their dorm hallway.

Then he did a double take. He squinted at the tiny girl’s bouncy blonde twintails, vague memories floating to the surface of his now aneurysm-riddled brain.

No fucking way. No fucking way the live fucking tiger was somehow still not the most insane guest in that trio. The girl turned to say something to the tattooed guy, and Kazutoshi caught a glimpse of her face. Yup. That was Chiba fucking Airi. In his dorm. Playing with a fucking tiger.

Sure, why not? Why the fuck not.

Kazutoshi quickly turned to look over the rest of the gathered crowd. He needed something to cool down from whatever he’d just seen. No such luck with this crowd.

Leaning against a far wall, a blonde guy with sparkling blue eyes who looked like he belonged in a hotel staff lineup and a bright, bouncy girl wearing a fucking cape chatted as if either of their attire was normal.

A little further down the same wall, a small boy who looked like he’d blow over in a small breeze fidgeted with his stained jacket as his eyes fixed on the ground like he was waiting for a hand to reach up from it and pull him down into the depths of decade-old carpeted hell. He was the third person Kazutoshi had seen who made him wonder if he had somehow stumbled into a fucking middle school somehow.

The boy glanced nervously at the person closest to him, a girl with bright red hair who surveyed the room in a similar fashion to Kazutoshi, eyes flicking around with more analysis than nerves behind them. Her bright tattoo and toned arms made her look like a stereotypical delinquent, but she didn’t seem aggressive or hostile. Her eyes met his for a second and she raised an eyebrow. Kazutoshi looked away, caught, as he focused his gaze onto the last set of people in the hall.

A girl with vibrant orange hair tied up in twintails and a tall, awkward looking guy with soft brown eyes sat in vague silence next to each other. Kazutoshi couldn’t exactly read the air between them, and he didn’t think he wanted to. The brown eyed guy adjusted his overly formal suit – why would he wear a fucking suit for this? – and cast a glance around the room as well. He caught Kazutoshi’s gaze for a second and an awkward, nervous smile slipped onto his face like a greeting. Before Kazutoshi could respond, the suit guy turned away, looking like he’d remembered something. He fished around in a bag slung over his shoulder and pulled out something Kazutoshi couldn’t see. He hesitated, then offered it to the girl sitting next to him, who accepted it, the two of them starting up a less awkward conversation.

Kazutoshi looked away, opting to glare around at his more inanimate surroundings rather than be caught staring again. His eyes fell upon a slightly obnoxious sign declaring that he was going to have a stellar time in the Fujioka dorm. He rolled his eyes, wondering if it was set up by a member of the staff, or by one of his overly enthusiastic dormmates.

Behind the sign, the ominously cracked walls of the building displayed flaking light blue paint. The entire room they were in, which seemed to once have been a dining commons, but now was a fissure-riddled, weirdly barren lounge room. Kazutoshi glanced at the thin but vaguely threatening cracks, wondering how many students before him had prayed under this roof that the building would wait to fall apart until after they graduated. Not like he was going to break the tradition.

A high pitched whistle cut through his thoughts and his eardrums.

Around him, the others flinched at the same time, before turning to see the source of the sound.

“Jesus, Sasaki. Are you trying to give us all tinnitus?” The guy cosplaying a stop sign snapped, covering his ears.

The raven haired girl next to him sighed. “I’m trying to get their attention, Hiroaki.”

“Well, give me a warning first next time!” Hiroaki whined, red sunglasses flashing and practically radiating an obnoxious air as he crossed his arms.

“I literally– No, I’m not going to do this,” Sasaki said, shaking her head and turning to address the group as Hiroaki glared at her. “Okay! Thank you all for coming out here!”

“We… didn’t really have a choice,” the masked figure from the right corner pointed out. “The dorms are still being… cleaned.”

“Wait, what’s wrong with the dorms?” her blonde compatriot asked. “I just went straight here cause I thought it was, like, a get together.”

Sasaki tried to cut in over the murmurs of a lot of people who really didn’t know how to whisper. “It is, and nothing’s–”

“No, the dorms are fucked,” declared the red haired girl, still leaning against the wall. “Apparently the wildlife got to it over the summer. Rooms are trashed.”

“That’s not–” Sasaki tried, but she was interrupted by the chatter of overlapping voices.

“Are we sure it was wildlife, and not, like…” the girl in the red uniform piped up from behind the blonde girl, trailing off and gesturing in the direction of the tiger guy.

Chiba Airi leaned around the backpack that was blocking her view, proclaiming, “Sawa would never!”

“Is that a fucking tiger?” Hiroaki screamed from the front of the room.

The blue haired boy standing next to him shook his head. “How did you not notice that before?”

Hiroaki glared at him. “Oh, I don’t know, I was a little distraced by Miss High and fucking Mighty–”

“Okay!” Sasaki yelled, flicking her hands exasperatedly. “If you would all let me speak, I have a few things I’d like to clear up, as the only one here with information from actual staff.”

“She takes one summer of prep classes, and she thinks she’s queen of the school,” Hiroaki muttered.

“I heard that,” Sasaki snapped.

“Oh no, you did? I was praying you wouldn’t. This is a nightmare,” Hiroaki said, sarcasm thick enough to stop a bullet.

Sasaki muttered something that sounded like “You’re a nightmare,” and continued.

“Alright, well, as you all have been informed, the dorms are…”

“Fucking trashed?” The tattooed boy suggested.

“Temporarily out of commision,” Sasaki corrected. “But they’ll be ready by tonight, I’ll make sure of that. In the meantime, you all can get to know each other a little bit, and I’ll do my best to make sure all of you can unpack as soon as possible.”

“And it will definitely be ready by tonight? Like, actually ready?” Hiroaki prompted.

Sasaki turned to him with a tight lipped smile. “Yes, Hiroaki. They will be. Give or take… a few mattresses.”

“What?” Hiroaki demanded in time with a few others from the crowd.

“Just yours, Hiroaki,” Sasaki half-singsonged, the vocal equivalent of smoothing down a skirt. She turned to the rest of them with a forced smile, raising her voice to be heard over Hiroaki yelling about being an insomniac. “In the meantime, get to know your roommates! A good relationship with them is very important.”

The room dissolved into a gradient of panicked or excited chatter, everyone mimicking freshly dropped marbles in both movement and cacophony. Kazutoshi spotted the tiger being stuffed back into the hat guy’s backpack and breathed a sigh of relief. In the corner of his eye, he noted the guy in the suit glancing in his direction, before being pulled into a conversation with the orange haired girl.

Sasaki tapped the blue glasses guy, pulling him aside. Now a lone fire alarm in the buzzing crowd, Kazutoshi saw Hiroaki glance around at the others, as if he was looking for someone. Then his eyes fell on Kazutoshi, And he started walking.

Kazutoshi almost ran. He had the feeling he was about to regret not going for it.

“Hey you. Blue,” Hiroaki said, sauntering up to Kazutoshi with impenetrable smugness.

“Hey you, asshole,” Kazutoshi retorted, mimicking his tone. “Who the fuck starts a conversation like that?”

“Excuse me?” Hiroaki said, sounding appalled. “Do you know who I am?”

Kazutoshi rolled his eyes. Unfortunately, he’d seen the fashion designer’s name on a magazine or two. Assuming this was the same guy, though, he couldn’t exactly act all high and mighty if he was going to university here.

“I don’t care who you are. Fuck off,” Kazutoshi growled, eliciting a gasp so dramatic he was surprised there was any air left in the room.

“What the hell is wrong with you? And how do you not know me?” Hiroaki said, aghast. “What is your problem?”

“Well, currently, it’s that a fucking stranger won’t stop bitching at me,” Kazutoshi retorted.

“You’re so crass!” Hiroaki yelped. “And so uninformed. You seriously don’t know who I am? My heart bleeds, Kashimura.”

“Kamimura,” Kazutoshi corrected on instinct. Then he narrowed his eyes. “Wait. How the fuck do you know my name? Why the fuck do you know my name?”

Hiroaki crossed his arms, “Why should I tell you?”

“Oh, fuck off!” Kazutoshi snapped, mind racing. He hadn’t told anyone his name. He hadn’t even talked to anyone.

Luckily, Hiroaki obliged, his apparently bruised ego sending him back to his blue-haired human support blanket’s side. As he glared over his shoulder at Kazutoshi, he “whispered” something to the other boy. Kauztoshi heard the word roommate slip.

Oh fuck no.

Kazutoshi glanced around across the room like anyone in there could save him.

No such luck.

Maybe he could just live in the lounge room.

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