good-beanswrites

[good-beanswrites]

Haruka kidnapping Fuuta

(Order of Attack, I mean.)

Oooh, this was so interesting! I think Mahiru was so used to going with the flow, and didn’t seem to be moving around that much, that I didn’t see a lot of thoughts about her wheelchair specific struggles – but I 100% think Fuuta would experience wheelchair-grabbing violations… (Tw for that and brief mention of suicidal thoughts)

“Fuuta-san? C-can I, um, tell you something, alone? M-maybe back in my cell?”

Haruka looked between him, and where Amane and Mahiru sat around the wheelchair. His gaze was intense and pleading, but Fuuta huffed in reply.

“Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of them. I don’t have time for little kid drama like this.” He hoped the nonchalance could paint Haruka as the scared one of the situation.

Throughout the whole trial, not even Amane had caught on to his fixation over how many people were in a room at a time. Aside from the nights, which left him panicked and alert regardless, Fuuta made sure no less than three people gathered in a room at any given time. It was entirely logical – after all, they had very compelling evidence that two people weren’t enough to call for help if trouble arose. It was doubly true now that Fuuta couldn’t work his own wheelchair with a broken arm. Also, he still didn’t know who he could trust. Kotoko was the obvious danger, but some of the others were too unpredictable for him to comfortably sit alone with. Mikoto had been having those outbursts, and he didn’t like the jealousy in Muu’s eyes after verdicts were announced. 

However logical it was, the others would certainly label it melodrama if they knew the way his heart rate skyrocketed when there were too few people around. When questioned, he always gave a short, “it’s nothing.” 

So, even at the heartfelt request, he kept his words short and prayed the others kept their attention on Haruka.

The boy’s face fell. “O-oh, that’s okay. Um, another time, then.” He bowed his head and slipped out the door.

Mahiru poked Fuuta where she knew there were no bandages, shooting him a look. “You should let him talk to you! It sounded like a big deal.”

“Eh? But I tried! I didn’t think he’d just leave, jeez…”

“Next time –”

“Yeah, yeah, next time.” 

When the next time arrived, Kazui and Amane were the ones unknowingly maintaining the room’s safety for Fuuta. They were each involved in their own activities in the common room, but simply having them nearby was enough.

“Um! Is now a good time to-to talk?” 

Haruka’s voice strained even more. His eyes appeared even more wild. It unsettled Fuuta, but also meant he had no choice but to honor Mahiru’s request if things were already this bad.

“I mean, if you really need to, we could –"

“Great!” Without another word, he’d grabbed the back of the chair and was whisking Fuuta out into the hall.

“Hey!” He looked frantically over his shoulder, but Amane looked just as peaceful as always. He wanted to call out to her, but what could he say? He’d either admit he sounded like a panicked child, or need to insist it was nothing.

Even when he did get control of his voice, snapping a quick, “oi, wait a second!” it was too late. The panopticon rushed past him. He’d missed his window and was completely isolated.

The boy dragged him into the darkened cell, leaving him in the center of the floor.

His voice was tinged with the same hysteria in his eyes. “I just, well, I need to do something drastic. You’ll understand. I know that-that you’ll understand. I p-promise this will be quick.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Fuuta’s mind raced as fast as his pulse. “Something drastic?” 

“It’ll be quick…”

Fuuta craned his gaze backwards to see Haruka close and latch the door. He immediately regretted the motion, pulling something tight in his chest and shortening his breath. He spun back to gasp a raspy inhale.

“The Warden won’t p-pay attention to us unless someone gets hurt,” Haruka continued from behind. “They’ll only pay attention if – if someone dies.”

His footsteps approached. Fuuta grasped at his chest. As soon as he got his breath back, he’d cry out – but would anyone hear him? How much time would he have, before…?

“That’s why… I have to do this.”

Fuuta used to feel strong. He used to feel in charge, in control. He could go about his day feeling capable, and safe, and not think twice about who was in the room with him. He could talk when he wanted, walk where he wanted.

Now, he could only sit here, in a murderer’s room, unable to speak up as he circled around the wheelchair.

Haruka smiled. “No one will m-miss me, anyways.”

Fuuta blinked. He finally managed a shaky, “you?”

A knock on the door made both of them flinch. Muu’s voice came muffled from the other end. “Haruka-kun? Are you in there? I thought we were going to play a game.”

“Y-yeah!” Then, whispering, “ah. We can, um, talk another time.”

He went to answer the door, leaving Fuuta to hang his head. All his muscles untensed – he’d surely pulled more than his chest in his panic. And what shameful panic it was, worrying about himself, when this never had anything to do with him. 

It seemed he’d failed at being a hero in more ways than one.

On their way back to the common room, while Fuuta was contemplating the best person to confide the news to, Haruka apologized. “S-sorry for bothering you.”

Fuuta was glad he couldn’t see the expression that crossed over his face. “It was nothing.”

[good-beanswrites]

Random 1am thought: In that LCSYS/OoA crossover, how do the producers make sure Amane doesn't "die"?

I could imagine it all panning out like my curtain call responses, haha. "We're going to kill Fuuta." "No, you will not."

Ah, this was so fun to think about! There are a few painful references to her family (as to be expected), but this came out overall sweeter than I expected :’) 

Amane sat peacefully at the head of the conference table and looked between the debating adults, nodding along with the different arguments, very glad that she was invited to this meeting discussing whether or not she should be killed. 

Though not really a life or death decision, she didn’t think children were allowed to be involved in such important choices. She’d never gotten a say in any of her family affairs, or the events at her school – it was wholly surprising when Jackalope had escorted her to the meeting room and asked her to speak in front of everyone. The main project team was there, as well as the prisoners who were asked to sit quietly and listen.

She knew for a fact none of them would follow such a rule, but at least they looked like they’d try for her sake.

Jackalope began the meeting by explaining his reasoning for all the plans, all of which felt sound to Amane. He gestured to her, and all eyes fell upon her seat. She stood. 

She could tell this decision wasn’t entirely up to her; Jackalope was mostly ensuring she wasn’t going to come back and sue them if faking her own death would cause any lasting trauma. 

That wasn’t of concern to her – she had bigger plans for this meeting. She inhaled deeply. She spoke as eloquently as she could manage with her nerves.

“I honestly did not give much thought to my preferences before today. Real or fake, the time of our own death is something that is chosen for us. Of course I would never want it, but I would never argue with the appointed time. But… I do wonder about the others. The script made sense for me, but hasn’t Haruka grown too much to do something like that? Hasn’t Fuuta changed so much that this is only cutting his story short?” She swallowed hard. “I… I don’t want it to sound vain, like I’m only trying to save myself. But, do we really need anyone to die?”

Jackalope offered an apologetic smile to her, then the room. “Unfortunately, we do.”

“Like hell you do!” 

Well, that didn’t take long. 

Fuuta shifted in his seat, fists clenching atop the table. “She’s right. Haruka would never do those things. The two of them are just kids – you can’t just kill them off like it’s nothing.”

“It’s not ‘like nothing.’ I’ve designed the perfect psychological experiment, and it requires we explore dark paths like this.”

“It doesn’t require shit, you’re just saying that!”

“Kajiyama, I have already explained the delicate thematic balances!”

“I’ll show you who’s a delicate –!”

Amane shot him a look across the room. He returned the expression, but clamped his mouth shut.

Jackalope folded his hands. “I assure you, the proper weight and care will go into every aspect of this. We’ve thought long and hard about the natural progression of things.”

“Are you certain?” Shidou asked. “I don’t think any of us would let Haruka out of our sights after he did something like that. And you say Kajiyama-kun would succumb to his injuries early in the hiatus, but I doubt I’d let that happen with the time and resources provided. Perhaps we could collaborate on your research.”

Though Jackalope was offended that his research would be called into question, the team appeared to sway the more they discussed. Amane lost track of their back-and-forth, preoccupied with keeping her tongue held. She wanted nothing more than to scold Shidou for being so arrogant. Such a bold claim that he could definitely fix any unknown injury was taking things too far. However, if he was saying it in defense of keeping Fuuta alive, and it was working, she didn’t want to distract anyone. 

She focused instead on the next thing she wanted to say. Her parents had taught the importance of a compromise during an argument. Jackalope noticed her change in expression, and reluctantly called the table to silence.

“Yes?”

“I believe this will make a nice agreement,” she announced. She’d been taught that the perfect recipe to prove you were worthy of something you wanted was to sacrifice something very dear to you. “It would be more realistic for Fuuta-san and Haruka-san to survive. I will still die this trial, and you can handle it however dramatically you wish.”

The room seemed less thrilled about the compromise than she would have thought, erupting into heated chatter. 

“Alright, alright!” Jackalope’s professional tone was beginning to crack in his annoyance. “Will you all shut up for a second?”

When the room finally settled, Mahiru spoke. So much for sitting quietly, Amane thought, grateful that none of them had sat quietly. 

“Why don’t you take some time to think about it?” Mahiru’s smile was as warm as always. “I agree with Amane-chan’s original statement – I don’t think anyone needs to die. People change. The project can, too.”

“Tch, people don’t change.” Jackalope gathered up his papers, freely showing his annoyance. “And if they do, they’re getting worse. If you all were capable of change so easily, don’t you think you wouldn’t be here in the first place? Haven’t you been paying attention to this whole project? You all might have made some new friends, but it’s not like you’re all changed people.” He marched to the door.  “I have another meeting, so we’ll wrap this up now. I’ll let you know my final decision by tomorrow.”

Amane sank back into her seat, even as the room grew loud around her. She thought being here was too good to be true, and it was. If anything, she’d doomed the others further. 

--- 

“Hey!”

“Just hold still.”

“I am – ow!” 

Jackalope crept through the hall, following the Amane’s angry cries.

“Kajiyana Fuuta, it’s not too late – I will kill you.”

In a project like this, it was important to observe his participants in every situation. It was especially effective if they didn’t know he was there. He’d done it plenty of times, and it always yielded incredible results. It wasn’t creepy; it was simply good business. 

He peered around the corner into one of the facility’s break rooms, careful to stay in shadow.

Amane swung her legs from atop the counter while Fuuta scrambled around her with paper towels. He tried to wipe down her bloody knee. A first aid kit lay open beside the two.

“Be careful…”

“Maybe if you were more careful, you wouldn’t have fucking asphalt in your leg!”

“It was just a little game outside! I’m sure you’ve tripped in the road before.”

He clicked his tongue at her in lieu of replying. 

From the beginning, Jackalope had known this particular experiment was designed perfectly. The pieces fell into place better than all those that came before it. He could practically picture the way it would play out in perfect, horrifying, beautiful paths. So when had it become something unrecognizable to him?

Once Fuuta got most of the blood cleaned off, he moved to the first aid kit to pick through bandages. Amane leaned close, supervising. 

“Just a small one.”

“You need a big one for a scrape like that.”

“I told you, you were only allowed to do this if it was a small one.”

“No, the deal was that I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“And we both know you can’t keep a secret, so can you at least use a small one?”

“What do you mean? I swore I wouldn’t tell, now let me cover it.”

“Pinky swear.”

“I’m a grown-ass man, I’m not gonna pinkie swear.”

Amane’s pinkie hung in the air between them. She scooted away as Fuuta tried to place the large bandage across her knee. Her pinkie poked in his face.

“Fine! Cross my heart and all that shit. Happy?”

“Yes.”

Jackalope retreated around the corner. He rubbed a hand down his face. He hated being wrong. Worst of all, he hated when his participants – nobodys who would have ended up in jail, or tormented, or dead without his intervention – were right. 

Well, that was exactly it, wasn’t it? People don’t change, and these participants wouldn’t have changed, if it weren’t for some grand force of good working in their lives. Special connections that wouldn’t have happened naturally. 

They were so lucky to have him in charge of their fates, weren’t they? 

[good-beanswrites]

You mentioned the possibility of Fuuta "outright confronting [Amane] as the source of all this pain" in the collateral angst ask. What might that look like?

For added pain, recall that Mahiru is "betraying" Amane in the form of making her get medical care.

Wauuughhh... (This is referring to the multiverse fic here!) I’d apologize for the angst but you all keep requesting it!!! 😭😂

Silence was all Amane knew for weeks. It was something she was familiar with at home, as she crept around her parents on bad days. The other prisoners were doing the creeping, here. The younger ones shied away from her frightening injuries, their faces drawn up in pity, half-masked disgust, and even less-masked relief that it hadn’t been them. There was silence as the older ones gave up on getting through to her. They fought their daily battle to keep her bandages on without so much as a word. The silence stretched on both ends after Mahiru had chosen to betray her. Through this cold shoulder, Mahiru left gifts and favors only when she was asleep.

But there was one prisoner who was incapable of expressing himself through silence. Kajiyama Fuuta preferred to yell and snap and kick things around. 

This, too, she was familiar with.

“You selfish brat!” he roared. 

She was shocked when Fuuta came knocking down the door to tell her he knew everything. Not only was it completely unprecedented from any of the other loops, but there was no reason to be angry about it. Both of them understood the other's plight better than anyone else. They were able to find comfort and strength in the other, regardless of timeline. 

But then, that was exactly the issue he had with it. In every timeline, in every tragic loop, the pair grew close enough that one of them suffered dearly for it. The other could only ever watch helplessly or join in their fate. Amane took comfort in the fact that they always found each other. No matter how terrible the end, at least they had someone they cared about by their side.

“You didn’t think it was important enough to tell me? Or was I just not important enough?” 

She opened her mouth, but he hadn’t let her get a word in yet. 

“I was so worried about you! I looked out for you, protected you. I – I mourned you…you know that? Even if it was the end of the line for you, everything kept going for me to…” His voice cracked. “And all this time you never gave a shit about me!”

Amane straightened up from where she sat in bed, even as her ribs protested the movement. “No! I always –”

“– you always weaseled your way close to me, not caring that I’d get caught up in the crossfire. Just because god or whatever cursed you doesn’t mean he hates me too! That’s why you keep me around – just some sacrificial lamb to take some of the hits.”

She thought their bond could give them strength. Was that so selfish? In so many loops, Fuuta was the very one telling her she wasn’t sinfully conceited for what she’d done. If even he no longer believed it after seeing her true colors…

“Fuuta-san.”

“I mean, why else did you let me die every loop?”

Didn’t he remember all those nights they sat together and talked? The hugs and locked eyes and squeezed hands? That was the miracle that God had given to humans; they could have faith, even in the darkest of times. He hadn’t cursed Amane, He’d blessed her by giving her someone to have faith with.

She trained her eye on him. “You didn’t die every time! You–” 

“Oh, that’s right!” He wheeled around, voice pitching with hysterical sarcasm. “Sometimes it’s just that I get my fucking bones broken! Sometimes I just get kidnapped and dragged into someone’s basement, or starved ‘til I pass out, or bashed over the head so I can’t see straight!”

“Please.” Amane’s chest ached. She placed a palm over it and forced herself to take a steady inhale. She wished the two could go back to how it was before. This was an especially rare loop in which Fuuta made it out of Kotoko’s attacks unscathed. Amane wished he could come sit by her bed like he had during those early nights. She wished he would make her laugh and tell her he forgave her again. 

Maybe that was nothing but selfishness, too.

“Here I was, feeling all this guilt that you got hurt and not me, but it never really mattered did it? Because I’ll take the hit next time, huh?”

“That’s not it!” She sucked the air through her teeth, the outburst causing pain to shoot through her chest. 

Fuuta didn’t notice, or didn’t care. He stormed back the way he came, kicking aside the things heds already blown past when entering. Something about the way he reached for the door seemed final.

“Don’t go,” was all she could plead. “Don’t leave me. Everyone else, they…”

“They all had some damn common sense. I’m not sticking around to get dragged into someone else’s damnation.” 

The door slammed with a grating, metallic clatter, followed by Fuuta’s receding footsteps through the panopticon. Then, the cell was plunged into silence. 

[good-beanswrites]

Okay okay, if you're going to gift me tragic art, I suppose I'll share the piece that inspired it... In my defense, this was meant as a private attack, so no one can blame me for the emotional damage!! Yes, my original thought was that "confront" would be taken a tad bit more violently than the way I originally answered your ask 👀

All her fault… all of this… it was because of her…

Fuuta stumbled through the dim corridor. No one else was awake, it seemed. No one else was kept awake by the sickening knowledge that they were just a pawn in some little girl’s game that she didn’t know how to play. Indeed, that role had been specifically reserved for him.

This is the only way. This is the only logical way…

He returned to the panopticon, the long belts from his uniform dragging behind him as he walked. He knew the root of his problem – the very core of his web of infinite broken bones and bloodied cells and grieving tears and final, struggled breaths – all he had to do was deal with it.

It? 

“It” was his friend. Part of him desperately tried to remember everything Amane had done for him, and how deeply she cared about him. After all, he was enduring this torment because she loved him. Mahiru would’ve told him what a beautiful motive that was, what an honor to be loved to this point. The other part of him remembered that Mahiru wasn’t here anymore.

Good intentions had never meant anything in this godforsaken place. Fuuta learned that quickly, in every single timeline. He lost an eye and a couple of ribs because of his good intentions. Last time he’d lost his friends. The time before that – and the time before that – he’d lost his life because of them. So even if this hadn’t been Amane’s intention, it was her fault. That’s how Milgram worked. That’s always how Milgram worked.

She’ll understand. She knows… the cat… She’ll understand. Sometimes being kind… will doom you. Sometimes you need to… you need to…

He arrived at her cell. The door hinges squeaked when he opened it. It didn’t matter if he got caught, though. It didn’t matter what happened afterwards. No matter what happened to him afterwards, at least he wouldn’t wake up in his bed to do it all over again, and over again, and over again, and…

The sound caused Amane to stir. Her eyes fluttered open, then widened at the figure looming over her. She looked at hand, understanding his plan in an instant. It had worked for her in most timelines, hadn’t it? They’d both seen it play out more times than they could count.

Amane stayed completely silent. Fuuta told himself it was a show of maturity and acceptance. It was easier than wondering if it was out of raw terror.

He took a step forward.

The scissors glinted once in the light of the doorway. Then, as he took another step inside, they were consumed by the darkness.

Collateral Angst - The real point of the story isn't "the victim was attacked" but "look how protective/self-loathing/angsty/loving the victim's friend is." (TVTropes)

How about collateral whump?

How does Fuuta feel about being the chew toy in any given Amane angst fic?

KIDDING (kinda). Real answer under the cut, but this is referring to the Amane timeloop angst fic by Kyanako and Nott!

Ow. Just, OW.

First and foremost, I think he’d be shocked to discover he’s not the main character. (Even in a non-fourth wall breaking sense,) I think after being so stuck in an internet environment that emphasizes the self, after envisioning himself as a hero so often, then to have his worldview shattered and believe himself a villain, it would not compute that the universe is administering cosmic punishment to some girl just a liiiittle to the left. Cue a lot of anger, a lot of attempted force to get himself out of the situation, and a lot of panic. Once he deals with the crushing blow that he’s not the special main character he thought he was, I see a few possibilities with even chances (depending on how many loops he’s been through/how the information was revealed/when the information was revealed/etc):

The first and best option is that he finds some sort of purpose in lifting up Amane. It sucks, and it’s going to get him beaten, tortured, and killed a million ways, but in doing so he’s helping the person he’s become the most protective over. He can at least take some pain away that the universe had aimed her way. She gets so much stronger and changes her frame of mind in honor of his misfortune. He may not end up on top, but he finds peace in willingly sacrificing himself for someone he deeply cares about. He'd become a more reckless and self-harming now that he sees that as his purpose, but he's happy with it.

If he’s in a slightly worse state of mind, he may come to the same peace, but for selfish reasons. He realizes he is some kind of chosen after all, since the universe is using him to lift up the true protagonist. He undergoes his suffering with the knowledge that he’s still a hero, he’s still special, he’s just special because he gets to help Amane. As his role goes to his head, he'd start trying to influence other things in the timeline, occasionally making things better but also making them worse if he tried to take on too much.

If he’s in a really bad state of mind, his desperate and hurting brain will make the connection that all this pain is technically because of Amane herself. If the universe is hurting him to hurt her, then without her, he’d be in no danger. He’d spiral – ranging from distancing himself as much as he can from her, to outright confronting her as the source of all this pain.

Not the worst but certainly not a good option – something clicks in his already-fracturing mind about Amane’s religious views and he sees the situation as his hell. God is real and punishing him for killing a young girl, so to atone he must suffer to protect His special girl. It’d be a weird mix of a mindset, since Fuuta genuinely believes he’s in hell for what could feel like an eternity until he’s paid his debt – but also retains the small hope that he’s working towards the reward of heaven. He would do absolutely nothing in this case, thinking just rolling over and going with the flow is what he's meant to endure.

[good-beanswrites]

[good-beanswrites]

✍️.

[good-beanswrites]

You want to write creepy Mahiru? I shall enable you ^_^

Hehe thank you for all your enabling 😌✨This was super fun to think about – I started off with normal-au thoughts of her courting behaviours being thrown under suspicious lighting (I don’t think she’s a stalker at all, but paired with the right character, her attention/involvement in their life can definitely come off as creepy). But I ended up going with a little scene between her and Yuno! They’re not officially a ship, but there is something budding between them when this takes place.

If Yuno knew that cooking dinner would have ended like this, she never would have agreed to Mahiru’s request for help. But how could she have known? Mahiru put on the roundest, most pleading eyes to match the lilting in her voice. She appeared genuinely in need and excited to teach Yuno this new recipe as promised. It was impossible to guess that such a sweet smile could ever have her cornered, knife in hand.

Yuno didn’t notice anything amiss when they started. Mahiru was overbearing with her instructions – chatting nonstop taking a very physical approach with her demonstrations – but that wasn’t anything new. In fact, the way her arms unnecessarily pressed against Yuno’s, guiding her to cut the vegetables under the pleasantly dim kitchen lights, was the very appeal of cooking together.

It was only when she pulled away, busying her hands with a precarious stack of pots and pans on the counter, that Yuno noticed something plaguing her.

“Is something on your mind?”

“O-oh! Well, I don’t want to be a bother.”

“I asked you! What’s up?”

Mahiru’s expression, which was reflected in a dozen funhouse mirror shapes from the tower of dishes, shifted. It was watchful, aware it was watched, but unable to be watched itself. It didn’t matter that Mahiru wore her heart on her sleeve, she knew better than to broadcast her more impolite thoughts on her face. It would have been an admirable trait if Yuno wasn’t so lost trying to read her.

“Do you… do you still love me?”

The question was sudden, but not the first of its kind. Yuno smiled. “Of course I do!”

“Oh, really?” She pouted her lip. “Then… why did you spend the night in Fuuta’s cell last week?”

“Eh? I told you that day at breakfast, I forgot the guilty cells lock, and I just got stuck after staying too long.” Her smile wavered with Mahiru’s uncharacteristic lack of one. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Her voice remained sullen. “I can understand if you didn’t want to be vulgar in front of the younger ones. You can tell me the truth.”

“That is the truth.”

Mahiru turned away from the dishes. Her brown eyes, which usually spilled with warmth, now pleaded with a superheated focus. 

“You won’t even come to stay with me in my cell, you keep saying it’s too soon – but you’ll spend all night with him? Is it something I did wrong? What is it? What did I do wrong?”

Caught up in the sudden panic, she surged forward to grab Yuno’s hands. With her gaze entirely distracted, she didn’t notice her apron get caught on one of the dishes until it yanked it from its place.

The motion brought down the whole tower – Yuno flinched at the grating sound of everything clattering to the ground. Mahiru wasn’t rattled in the slightest. She even smiled, a little ‘how silly of me’ expression that didn’t suit the massive mess at her feet. She released her hands and bent to clean up the dishes.

“Aw, come on.” Yuno muttered to herself, hoping to change the subject. “Are none of those lazybones coming to help?”

“Ah, sound doesn’t travel well from here. We could yell and scream in here and nobody would hear a thing!” Mahiru giggled.

Yuno found it difficult to join in her enthusiasm.

They moved on to the next step of the recipe in silence. Mahiru took out the meat to slice. Yuno put a few things in the pan on the stove and moved to the corner pantry to gather some of the final seasonings. She squinted at the labels in the dull lighting.

From behind her, Mahiru’s voice came out hushed.

“You know… I really hate cheaters.”

Yuno swallowed hard. “I know.” She decided to stay an extra moment by the shelves; no need to approach the woman who was currently choosing out a large knife. “Which is why I swear, nothing happened.”

“You think I’m stupid. I may not be very smart, but I’m not as airheaded as everybody thinks…”

“I don’t think that.”

“You do!”

Yuno spun around, expecting to see a rage paired with the sudden outcry. Instead, Mahiru had a desperate smile stretched across her lips. She stepped forward, blocking Yuno’s path. “But I can fix that! I can fix all of this!”

Maybe staying in the pantry hadn’t been a good idea.

“That’s what love is! I’ll make everything perfect, and you’ll never want to leave again~” She may have forgotten she still clutched the intimidating knife in her hand, but Yuno couldn’t think of anything else.

“I didn’t leave.” She was careful to keep her voice steady. However, she made the mistake of stepping back against the shelves.

Mahiru’s eyes darted around her, taking in every bit of body language. “You hate me. Oh, you hate me…” Her smile wobbled, tears rising to her eyes so that her expressions looked like they were fighting amongst themselves. “That’s okay! I can fix it… That’s right… Love can fix everything…”

Yuno’s breath caught in her throat as Mahiru lunged forward. 

The fact that she wrapped her in an embrace didn’t quell the adrenaline charging through her – the cool, solid metal of the blade was unmistakable through the material on the back of her uniform. Mahiru’s voice shook, whispering in Yuno’s ear. 

“Do you trust me…?”

Yuno’s mouth was too dry to answer. Her head spun. It felt like an eternity of waiting, anticipating whatever it was she would decide to do next, but it was likely only a few seconds before Mahiru gave a loud exhale, her tone dropping to something more casual.

“No, no, don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter.” She pulled back, her smile less forced. Tears now streaked her cheeks. “What matters is I trust you. That’s the important part of a relationship. I’m sorry for ever doubting you.”

“I-I…”

“I know. I know! Mahiru never should have doubted you!” She wiped the tears from her cheek with one hand, though it was the other that distracted Yuno. “Thank you~!”

Still at a loss for words, Yuno was grateful when the pan on the stove started to sizzle. Mahiru spun around, rushing over to stir it. “Oh! Can you cut that while I stir this?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you for this talk, Yuno-chan.”

“Of course.” She picked up the knife where it had been placed gently down. She willed her hands to steady as she arranged the cutting board.

“I love you~”

“I love you too.”

[good-beanswrites]

legally blonde mahiru... cause like. finding validation thruogh achievement and not from love ehe

also following her ex to a college is smth she'd do 100%

SO TRUE!! When I sat down to watch the musical with my sister last summer I got wicked emotional about Mappi during What You Want, so I wrote some snapshot scenes incorporating those lyrics here :3 (And I added some indulgent au headcanons for the overall story at the end hehe)

“Law school?” Mahiru’s coworker raised her eyebrows. She finished wrapping a bouquet and added it to the finished ones. Though she spoke politely, Mahiru wasn’t stupid. Doubt lurked just beneath the surface of the carefully-asked questions. “That’s a pretty big change, huh? And for some boy?”

“Not ‘for some boy’ – Love! I’m doing this for love.” There was a big difference. She didn’t know why so many people didn’t understand. The actual feeling was something much bigger than either of the individuals involved. “And love will see me through.”

They worked at a florist’s, after all; their whole livelihood relied on love. They’d seen its power firsthand, through the successful dates and reunions that blossom into marriages, funeral arrangements for spouses devoted past lifetimes, apology gifts after turning one’s life around, and promise arrangements with the desire to do so. The shop had taken countless requests from clients hoping to shape their bouquet into something perfectly suited to their lover. Why couldn’t she do that very same work of molding to perfection?

Yes, there was no more righteous reason to do anything. She smiled to herself. “Yes, with love on my side, Mahiru can't lose~ They can't refuse a love so pure and true.” 

“Well, they can…” The other woman returned her smile with a nervous one. It was alright that she was a bit pessimistic. Most people were, but it only made the truly devoted couples stand out even brighter against the crowd. 

Mahiru picked up her own finished bouquet, taking a deep inhale of the fragrance. She giggled. “Oh come on, don't lawyers feel love too?”

—

“Miss Shiina. This is a very flashy presentation, but I still don't see one reason to admit you.”

She thought there were plenty of good reasons on the resume in the man’s hands, each one framed on the shimmery, sunflower-bordered stationary. Her personal essay and video essay had just as much flair, but if he was still reluctant to accept those, she did have one last ace up her sleeve. Honesty was the best policy – that’s what all the relationship columns and wellness blogs she followed always said. She took a deep breath.

“How about love?”

“Ah.” His eyes flicked down at her personal essay, placing the resume down beside it. He must have been recalling her beautifully eloquent recounting of her relationship. She could still feel the thrill of writing it all down, of laying out the events and gestures, the fights and reunions, the hopes and dreams. It was all there, a perfect record of the meaning of life, and the meaning of her future. “The thing is –”

“You ever been in love?”

He paused, caught off-guard by the question. Mahiru recognized the look on his face. He had indeed. 

She went on, “because if you have, you'll know that love never accepts a defeat.” She thought of the many times she and her boyfriend had fought, or cancelled on each other, or even tried to break up. She’d always been able to reach back out, take hold of him, and save both of them from losing each other. “There’s no challenge it can't meet, no place it cannot go.”

“I admit, that’s a very nice sentiment, but we’re all adults here. I can tell you –”

Mahiru reached across the table to take his hands. “Don't say no to a woman in love!”

“Miss Shiina.” He yanked his hands back, entirely unamused by her sudden bout of excitement. 

Had she overdone it again? Why did people think she was so crazy for this? It was only natural – only admirable – to put your whole self into a relationship you’re passionate about. She bowed her head. Her voice returned to its most earnest, sounding hushed and hopeful.

“Don't laugh when I say love. Don't think that I'm naive.” She’d heard that enough in her lifetime. She hadn’t let it stop her before, and she sure as hell wouldn’t let it stop her now. “Even a person who's smart can listen to their heart. They can listen and believe.”

“I… I see.” And he did. His eyes moved over her submissions again – full of passion and character and joy. Didn’t the world need a little more of that? Didn’t it need a lot more of that?

Even before she spoke, she could see that something had changed. She’d won him over. “So believe in what love can achieve~”

—

Au thoughts! I wasn’t able to feature everyone but I got a few of the cast here :3

Mahiru is bubbly and girly and enjoys her hobbies of literature/cosmetology/flowers – the major difference between her and Elle is that even while her positivity can immediately charm people, she doesn’t have as many close friends/family to support her. She really clings to her boyfriend, always obsessing over and returning to the relationship no matter what.

They have a rocky relationship that he finally decides to end for good. He says he needs to meet someone serious, and find some fulfillment in his life instead of going in depressive circles with her – he’ll accomplish all this by attending the famous Milgram School of Law (lol)

She, of course, takes this as an invitation to join him. She throws everything else away, pouring herself into this new personality and lifestyle for love. As someone already committed to her studies and good with language (as a literature major) she succeeds in getting in. “What, like it’s hard~?”

Once there, she’s horrified to find her boyfriend associating with another law student – one Kotoko Yuzuriha who’s the very image of “someone serious” he was looking for. (I don’t know if either of them would want to get romantically involved, but they definitely get close enough to cause a lot of jealousy.) Kotoko looks down on Mahiru’s lighthearted attitude in the face of the weighty cases they dealt with in class, and constantly one-ups her with her strength and toughness.

She also meets law-prodigy Es, and the two become close friends and study buddies. Es takes the time to listen to Mahiru’s story and loving and losing her boyfriend, feeling responsible but not quite sure how. As they understand her situation more, they manage to get Mahiru to believe she doesn’t need to do all this for some guy – she can live for herself. She gets the legal internship, and starts working with the others.

Meanwhile, Mahiru is meeting with her hairdresser, Kazui. He had a rough breakup in the past (his own fault, but still), and fears he’ll never be able to find that same sort of romance again, even as he’s crushing on the cute delivery guy (Mikoto. Shidou?) Mahiru helps him return to Hinako’s house to make amends and get some closure, then imparts her bending and snapping wisdom upon him to get his man 👏

Which brings her to the big case. Their team is defending Yuno Kashiki on an impossible murder trial. She begs Mahiru not to tell her alibi – that she was with a client on her private job. She felt real warmth with him, and doesn’t want to implicate him in both her work and the trial. Mahiru agrees in the name of protecting their love, much to the rest of the lawyers’ dismay.

(If anyone would fit the Callahan role it would be Jackalope lol, but I feel like we don’t even need that plotline since her themes are a bit different than the dumb-blonde ones.)

Callahan plot or not, Mahiru gets discouraged about the whole thing as everyone loses faith in her for not revealing Yuno’s secret. Other students at the school are caught whispering about her, calling her crazy, clingy, too emotional, selfish, and some even saying she’s a stalker for still keeping tabs on her boyfriend. She’s ready to leave the whole university and career behind when Kotoko stops her. She tells Mahiru that she was wrong about her, and encourages her to stick to her guns. And so, (after a Muu-focused rendition of Lesbian or European,) Mahiru is able to use her “girly” interests to catch the real criminal.

She graduates at the top of her class, finding fulfillment through this job of helping others and confidence in herself and her own interests. She’s content not to get back with her boyfriend (though, maybe over the years of working together, she and Kotoko end up spending some extra time together…) 

[good-beanswrites]

Idk if it's just me, but fsr I see the most shipped prisoner would be Fuuta, it would be very funny if there was like a love corner of 0306, 0309, and 0310

Omg most shipped prisoner fr (I’m pretty sure I’ve seen something of him with everyone in the main cast aside from Amane, who. I mean. Certainly has a strong relationship with him that people are excited about 😅) I looove the 20s gang, and love the thought of the tsundere himself caught in the middle of them all – this was so fun to write!! 

Fuuta knew an ambush when he saw one. Well, he’d never actually seen an ambush before, but he was certain he was recognizing one now. 

It started gradually, with three of the prisoners acting strangely around him. Mahiru, Mikoto, and Kotoko paid extra attention to him and his schedule. They knew where he’d be and when. They spoke to him about personal topics, trying to draw all sorts of private information from him. Worst of all, he could feel their eyes all over him in every conversation. Even when he turned his back, he could swear they were still staring. 

They were watching him. They were planning… something, he just knew it.

His suspicions were confirmed sometime around Shidou’s interrogation. The three prisoners in question started making their moves. Each tried to get Fuuta isolated with them. The requests were simple and innocent on the outside – “Fuuta-kun, won’t you help me with tonight’s dinner?” “I think I saw one in the supply closet. Fuuta, wanna check with me?” “Would you mind spotting me for a minute?” – but he saw right through them. He’d always come up with a clever excuse to stay in the crowded rooms, but he knew his time was running out. In a prison with nine other murderers (not that he was one, of course,) it was only a matter of time before they developed an actual plan and cornered him to carry out whatever awful plan they had in mind.

He wished he’d been better prepared, when the moment of the ambush actually arrived. His guilty verdict was hitting him hard: the voices kept him awake through the nights, and he no longer felt like showing his face in the cafeteria. He hadn’t really realized how poorly he felt until he nearly collapsed on his way to dinner. Shidou escorted him back to his cell, rambling about fever treatments that Fuuta tuned out. 

While he was crawling into bed at the doctor’s orders, he could hear the three conspiring outside his cell. They made excuses about bringing him soup and medicine and crap, but it was obviously just for show. Shidou, the idiot, let them right in with praises for their kindness. 

Fuuta only had a moment to reach under the bed, grab the makeshift weapon he’d stolen (a pair of scissors with an unfortunately blunt end) and return to feigned sleep. He’d keep his eyes closed, and when they got to close, he’d have the element of surprise on his side. 

He listened to the three shuffle around the room. They placed down the soup and the tea they’d brought as props. They stepped closer. Fuuta tensed underneath the sheets.

Mahiru was the first to speak.

“He’s so cute when he’s sleeping~”

He nearly opened his eyes right then and there, gawking at the sudden comment. 

“He does look peaceful, huh?”

“It’s because he’s finally quiet,” Kotoko scoffed. 

“Oh, you can’t fool me,” Mahiru giggled. “I’ve seen the way you two talk.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” she replied in a way that said she knew exactly what was meant.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed – I love him too!”

It took all of Fuuta’s willpower to keep his face straight. What the fuck was she talking about? Was this part of their ploy, somehow? His palms were sweaty against the scissors. 

“Tch, it’s not love, there’s no need to be so dramatic. I just… enjoy his company sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Mikoto chimed in, “you enjoy it every single day.” Then, with uncharacteristic bitterness from him, he added, “none of us can get a word in when you two start going at it with those debates…”

Mahiru let out a little squeal. “Oh my gosh~ You too, Mikoto? I never would have guessed! Look at the three of all, all head over heels! I – Oh, no, look how red he’s turning! Poor thing, this fever came on so suddenly… Do you have that cold compress from Shidou-san?”

“Right here!” 

Mikoto’s footsteps crossed the room. Fuuta cursed himself for the involuntary reaction. He hadn’t thought it possible to attract even more unwanted attention to himself. Though he was relieved they misunderstood the cause of the heat spreading across his face, he felt even more determined to leave now than when he thought the three were coming here to kill him.

He grit his teeth and stayed completely still as Mikoto pressed the cool material against his face. Mahiru followed it with her own palms, prematurely checking if it had helped. Both the compress and her touch were relieving to the blush, but neither did anything to subdue it. 

Fuuta should have yelled that it was a violation of his personal space. He held his tongue.

“Do you think he knows? Mahiru wants to tell him!”

“He must. It’s not like any of us have been subtle.”

“Ah, so he’s turned you down, too?”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings!”

“Fuuta has never once cared about hurting anyone’s feelings…”

“Still, it’s an awkward topic to turn people down.”

They were lucky he was actually awake, Fuuta thought, or he would have woken with some choice words about at the casual volume at which they all spoke around a sick patient.

Mahiru let out a little laugh, and it took him a second to realize it was the closest she’d ever get to a mean sound. “Well, you all better watch out! I know what makes a perfect romance, you all don’t stand a chance.”

Mikoto scoffed. “Oh, you’re on. You haven’t seen me use my charm yet.”

“You don’t have charm,” Kotoko said. 

“As if you do. How do you plan on winning him over? Another pull-ups date?”

“He enjoyed them!”

“Not as much as my cake~” 

Fuuta thought he would explode while attempting to hold still during such a conversation. He curled himself tighter into a ball, mistakenly thinking they were focused on each other. He should have known Mahiru’s gaze wasn’t so easily distracted.

“Aw, look at him, getting all tangled up like this. Let me straighten this ou–” She reached down to shake out the sheets, then froze. “Are these… scissors?”

Fuuta held his breath as she pried them out of his hands. So this was it. He’d been caught. 

He was one more deep breath away from flinging himself up and explaining himself, when – “Sometimes he just melts Mahiru’s heart! He’s always trying to be a hero.”

Kotoko chuckled, her voice filled with pride. “Heh, always ready for a fight, more like it.” 

“With scissors like that? He’ll poke his own eye out before anything. He should have just come to us if he was worried. There’s nothing wrong with asking for a little help. … Oi, what are those faces for?”

Shidou’s voice interrupted the group, telling them to quiet down and let Fuuta rest. 

He’d never agreed with the old man more. He held his breath while the room cleared out, and the whispered well-wishes fell into silence. Footsteps receded away from the panopticon, all the way to the common room. 

Fuuta peered one eye open. The coast was clear. 

He rolled over to put his face directly into his pillow, and yelled as much as he could muster.

[good-beanswrites]

Do you think when Fuuta was young he and his sister would play their Wii console while their parents argued in the other room?

Oughhh I do 😔 A mix of his personality and how casually he mentioned it always makes me think he found it very normal – aka he didn’t actually realize the strain it had put him and his sister under it because he thought it was a usual occurrence, and even after he grew up he heard about divorce rates and continued thinking it wasn’t a big deal to his psyche. (Also, a little comment on my reference to his dad “helping” him with homework here)

Fuuta scooted closer to the television to hear the little jingles of his game, not caring that his parents yelled at him for doing so; they were too busy yelling at each other to notice right now.

His sister moved up with him, her character taking damage each time she stole a look at the kitchen doorway. She always got so tense when they fought. It made him restless. And annoyed. After all, there wasn’t even a reason to be scared. Sure, the sound made him want to cover ears and pull himself tighter into his sweatshirt, but so did the school bell, or the trucks outside, or a hundred other things – and he knew better than to be a baby about any of those.

He shook his wii remote fiercely. They were nearing the end of this level. He wished his sister would stop looking over there and instead watch how good he was doing. As the younger one, this was finally something he could do significantly better than her.

He didn’t dare turn the volume up any louder, but even sitting this close, he could hear his parents with perfect clarity. His father’s voice had the same bellow as when he helped Fuuta with his homework. Nothing could be done except match his volume or close your mouth and let him finish his point. Fuuta was terrible at math and knew it, so he always opted for the latter.

His mother, on the other hand, could succeed at the former. She had the same quick comebacks as when Fuuta tried to make excuses for misunderstanding something she said. She knew everything there was to know about the situation – sometimes things he wished she didn’t know – and used them to combat even his most reasonable excuses. He sighed. Someday, he was going to be just as smart as her, and he’d win every fight just like she did.

He wanted to be like his father, too, going to his job to help people and make the world a better place. That’s what they were arguing about, something about him working late. Well, that’s where the argument had ended up. Neither he nor they seemed to remember where it started.

Fuuta leaned closer to the speakers, craning to hear the sound of his victory. When he grew up, at least, he wouldn’t be quite so loud. 

[good-beanswrites]

Shidou’s the only dilf confirmed in milgram

LOL I don’t know if this was a request specifically but this cracked me up and I was inspired 😂 (I had LCSyS in mind but kept it vague so it can be any time/place)

“Huh.” Yuno propped her head on her chin. “Shidou’s the only dilf confirmed in Milgram.”

“Oh, really?” He smiled at her. The face wasn’t forced, but it also wasn’t wholly genuine. He had no idea what she was talking about.

He took a sip of his morning tea, wracking his memory for this particular slang term. Was it like the time he was “Cooking?” Or maybe “Cooked?” Were those the same?

She seemed awfully entertained, but it wasn’t the cruel joy of an insult. (He’d already experienced that plenty of times when Fuuta decided to teach Amane new slang.)

Fuuta scoffed from across the breakfast table. “As if.”

“You don’t think so? I do.”

Mikoto shrugged. “Yeah I see it.”

“Yeah, we know you see it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Shidou was truly intrigued at the reactions. He and Mikoto were very close, so it definitely wasn’t an insult. But why did everyone seem so amused by the agreement? He slipped his phone out of his pocket, opening an internet search.

Yuno made a sound. “I mean, look at him!”

He snapped his head up to find the others staring and nodding.

“The glasses, the gloves, the phone stylus...”

“There’s nothing wrong with my stylus,” he insisted. He also didn’t see the problem with his reading glasses first thing in the morning. 

Fuuta leaned forward, intent on returning to his original topic. “We all know he qualifies, but he’s not the only one. Have you seen the talk about Kazui?”

“Yeah, but Kazui doesn’t have kids.”

Ah, so it had to do with children? Shidou glanced over at Kazui. He only shrugged in return, just as content with being lost. Shidou took another sip as Mahiru joined the conversation.

“But… doesn’t that deter people? Because he’s already happy with a family?” 

Shidou would never admit the tiny pangs of jealousy he felt whenever she understood a reference before him. They weren’t so different in age, but since he was usually so caught up in his work, she ended up much more in touch with the current language and pop culture.

Yuno shrugged. “You can still find a committed man attractive. I mean, it’s the commitment that is attractive.”

It was a measure of endearment, then. He returned to his internet search.

“What about you, Kotoko-chan?” Mahiru asked, freezing the other mid-bite.

“Me? Tch, sorry, I don’t have enough daddy issues for that.”

“Aw, it’s not like that.”

She glanced pointedly at Yuno, then Mikoto, then Fuuta.

“Oi!”

Shidou finally found the term he was looking for, and clicked on the definition page.

He nearly spit out his drink.

[good-beanswrites]

Aw yeah!! The setting/theology sure is interesting but I think this works LOL. It was very fun considering the drama, but it was also nice to write a teary-hopeful conclusion :’)) I hope you enjoy!

The little bell rang, signaling the three had reached their long-dreaded destination. The doors rattled, as if the hell contained behind them was ready to burst – ready to swallow them up. 

Mahiru and Haruka couldn’t bear to look, each cowering away to cover their eyes. Shidou leveled his gaze directly at the entryway, taking a half step in front of the others. They tensed, unsure if they’d be met with a wave of heat, or darkness, or terrible screams, or maybe all three.

None came.

Another ding sounded out, and the elevator shuddered back into motion. This time, it did indeed travel upwards.

Shidou blinked. Haruka spun to gape at them. Mahiru helped him off the ground, just as speechless. None of them knew why they’d been spared, or how, or if their new destination was truly any better. None of them questioned it, or said anything at all. None of them would have breathed if they could help it.

Haruka stood and pulled his arms close to his chest, afraid to continue pressing any of the buttons. He still trembled with panic, but stealing glances at the others, he saw they were nowhere near as worried. In fact, it looked like they were trying to smother a premature celebration at this possible change in fate.

It took him a moment to realize they were overspilling with the joy of seeing their family, their lovers. There came a moment of relief that if they had no fear, he should either. Then came a moment of realization. Then, jealousy. After all, no one waited for him. The only one he would await was Muu, and he hoped she wouldn’t join him there in a long, long time. Heaven or hell, he’d be alone either way. 

He hurried to push the thoughts out his mind with squeezing of his fists. If it was pleading that had saved them from down below, he wouldn’t let his ungratefulness send them back. He should be grateful, everyone was always telling him he should be grateful…

Mahiru placed her hand on his shoulder, seeing him trembling. She was anxious, too. If she was wearing something like this, did that mean he forgave her? Was he waiting for her right now? Was he the one that had saved them?

For the longest time, she thought she knew what she’d say to him. But those hundreds of beautiful speeches and confessions in her head now fell flat. What was she supposed to do?

The next time the bell announced their arrival, the doors opened smoothly to reveal a long, white hallway with just as much class as the elevator itself. They hurried out: Mahiru pushed Haruka first, and Shidou held his arm to prevent the door from closing as he ushered both of them forward.

Once the three stood in the elegant hall – solid ground beneath their feet in the form of a plush carpet – they finally let their relief show. Mahiru squealed, pulling the others into a hug. Haruka smudged a few tears from his cheeks with a smile. Shidou, too, let a huge grin spread across his lips.

“Aw, you should have seen your faces!”

Roaring laughter echoed from the end of the hall. The three whipped around to see who mocked them. Though the voice was unfamiliar, they all recognized the little furry face hopping toward them.

“I honestly didn’t expect you all to start crying so early! No tears from Mister Stoic over here, though – what a freaking gentleman…”

They gaped at Jackalope as he came to a stop in front of them. He still shook with laughter, nearly flopping over in his amusement. The three spoke over each other.

“You can talk?”

“You were watching us?”

“You’re god?”

He sat up on his hind legs, catching his breath. He angled his head at each. “Yes, yes, and no, but I’m absolutely flattered you would think so~” 

Es had said something about him talking, but children tend to have active imaginations. The three could help the disbelief in their eyes as he continued.

“I’m just in charge of getting you here, and watching everything in the process. And boy, was it a show! The looks on your faces when it started moving down – priceless!” He dissolved into more laughter. Haruka laughed awkwardly along, but Shidou and Mahiru were staring with looks of horror.

“It was… some sort of joke?”

“How’s about we call it an experiment? I just wanted to see what would happen!”

“And you got your answer.” Shidou’s voice was cold. 

Not only did Jackalope put them through unnecessary terror, but he delayed several important reunions. Shidou kept his composure well in the elevator, even when he was ready to break down himself. Just as his wife and kids needed him, Mahiru and Haruka needed him to be strong. But there was only so much he could take before that control wore thin. 

He was tired of talking; he had half a mind to grab the others’ hands and yank them down the hall, taking off at full speed. “So, if you are not in charge around here, take us to whoever is.”

“Alright, alright! Jeez, you’d think after two trials of being miserable you’d be ready to lighten up more…” Jackalope continued grumbling to himself, but started back down the hallway. “Haven’t you ever watched one of those prank shows? With the pitfalls and everything?”

They followed close behind him, down a maze of identical white corridors. Shidou pulled up the rear, noticing the hesitation in Haruka’s face clearly contrasting the thrill in Mahiru’s. He understood all at once. How selfish of him, thinking about his family when Haruka had no one. 

Just as he opened his mouth to call out to him, Mahiru lifted one hand from keeping her lacy skirts up. She grabbed hold of Haruka’s hand. His surprise at the gesture melted into a smile as bright as hers.

Shidou closed his mouth. They were going to be okay. They were happy, just as his family was happy. Just as he would be. Nobody needed looking after anymore. Nobody needed him. He could rest.

He bowed his head with a smile. At long last, he let himself cry.

I’m definitely getting jumped for this one but all of the milgram prisoners on a elevator to heaven but it slowly starts going down to hell and they all panic

Zosiaaaaa, haven’t we had enough angst this trial already 😭 (Alright, but, this was really fun to think about :3 I didn’t join the putting-characters-into-situations hobby for nothing >:3) 

“Haruka-chan? Are you awake?” Mahiru’s hand shook him gently from sleep.

“Give him some space.”

“I am!”

Haruka blinked up at them, eyes bleary. “Oh! Um. Are you two – are you two getting married?”

He’d never seen a wedding dress up close before. It was silky and sparkling. Shidou was also dressed in white, but a fancier outfit than the coat Haruka usually saw him in.

Mahiru giggled. “It looks cute, doesn’t it? But no, no, we’re not.”

“We don’t know why we’re here, or where here is.” He gestured to the tiny room they found themselves in. Its walls were made of plain but quality wood paneling, with accents of gold. “Shiina-kun and I only woke minutes ago.”

“Let me help you up~”

His hand froze before taking hers. “Y-your arm!”

She beamed. “It’s all better! In fact, everything feels better! Isn’t that wonderful?” 

“Oh! I feel good too…”

Shidou’s gut twisted at the mention. He was far less excited about his own miraculous healing. He knew the human body well, and the utter lack of scars or markings from his injury was too good to be true. In his profession, that meant it definitely was. Combined with the clothes and strange location, it could only mean one thing. 

He was still working out how to gently explain the situation to Mahiru. Though certain patients always took the message better than others, Shidou had never had to break this kind of news post-death. 

He’d planned on keeping the information to himself until he processed it himself, but Haruka put the pieces together quickly. His expression dropped. “D-does that mean…?”

For the first time, Mahiru’s smile faltered. 

Shidou nodded. “I believe so.” 

Before any of them could speak, a panel that certainly wasn’t there a moment ago flashed on one of the walls. Ten lights lit up in even rows. They brought everyone’s attention to another new addition: a split running down the center of the adjacent wall.

“An elevator!”

Closer inspection revealed there were no labels or numbers to mark the destinations, or even where they stood now. All perfectly uniform in shape, it didn’t look like any of the buttons could open the door for them.

A remarkably mundane ding sent the elevator into motion. 

Haruka was the first to state the obvious, alarm rapidly rising up in his throat. “W-why are we going down?”

Mahiru had gone as pale as her dress. Shidou felt a tugging at his gut, though he refused to give into the initial panic. 

Haruka whipped back to face them. “Why? Why? Shouldn’t we be going up? Should- shouldn’t –” His breath hitched.

Shidou swallowed hard. His voice came out more unsure than the others had ever heard. “Different systems of belief have a variety of spatial arrangements for the afterlife, you know. Some religions believe all pathways after death exist under the earth.” 

“B-but we don’t believe those.”

“Are either of you spiritual?”

“I don’t, um. I don’t know? My mom talked about God…”

It was reassuring – that made an even split, as he didn’t believe in any sort of heaven or hell. His hopes were immediately dashed upon glancing at Mahiru. 

Her hands clasped together, brought up to her face. She knew she should be strong for the others, especially for a kid like Haruka, but even her knuckles pressed firmly over her lips didn’t do much to stop her crying. 

She just kept thinking back to her written interrogation in the first trial,  when everything was more exciting than it was horrifying, when they were all getting to know each other and could call one another friends, when she hadn’t realized just how relevant the answer she’d penned out really was.

What do you think happens when people die?

They go to heaven!

Shidou finally let himself worry.

Haruka threw himself toward the opposite wall to click the top rows of buttons. They didn’t so much as flicker, even when he began pounding on them with his full fist. He punched at the wall until his knees gave out under him, and he was left groveling on the floor below the buttons. 

“I… I’m scared.”

Mahiru spun to face the corner. With her face hidden, her tears finally fell.

“I thought this dress was for him, but… oh.”

Shidou folded his hands behind his back. He drove the images of his family from his mind. He wouldn’t be seeing them any time soon. 

“How ironic. Even if her reasoning was nothing but childishness, she was correct in the end...”

All they could do was wait there, each lost in their own thoughts, anticipating when the doors would open.

[good-beanswrites]

Craziest thing I’ve thought of while watching tv. 0506 on 90 day fiancé and the crazy dramas and shit that ensues

LOL that sounds incredible, yes! I’m not a huge reality TV fan but I’d definitely watch that season 👀 Knowing your timelines/aus I wrote this about them in separate relationships, but even if you meant 0506 then everything still applies, just directed at each other lol

(The general premise is that one half of an overseas partnership travels to the U.S. (though there have been spinoffs for other countries) and has the regulated 90 days to decide if they want to get married.) Now, neither Shidou nor Mahiru is the type to do something genuinely scummy/cheat on their partner, and I’m going to assume their partners wouldn’t do the same, but there’s plenty of other drama they could get into…

The whole trip would be super rushed for Mahiru – she didn’t tell her family, just applied and got on a plane because it all sounded so romantic~ Aside from what she’d learned about her partner directly, she wasn’t prepared for moving to their home/country. She didn’t pack the right clothes for the climate, isn’t used to local travel or activities, and the struggles with language/dialect from both sides can cause a lot of wild misunderstandings. She keeps saying it’s all okay, because love can conquer all these little details. 

When he arrives, Shidou turns out to be surprisingly clingy compared to his calming messages before. He’s always offering to check on little injuries and conditions (I’m thinking small things, like sunscreen and allergies, but he’s just as intense about them because he really wants to help now that he can finally be here in person). He also has a bit of a white lie problem – it’s never anything harmful or coming in the middle of the relationship, but there’s a lot of tension as his partner starts picking up on little exaggerations and pleasing misdirections. 

(Though her partner could probably guess a little bit from their communication before,) there would be some hiccups with Mahiru’s touchiness/clinginess. They didn’t realize just often she’d follow them around everywhere, and how comfortable she was with lots of PDA. When they try to tell her it’s too much, she panics, thinking they don’t love her anymore and she’s made a huge mistake coming here.

On the other hand, Shidou takes things way slower than his partner expected. He wants to completely understand this new area and people before he tries any PDA, even after his partner insists it’s very normal. 

I think Shidou would be really collected during his confessional shots, but get really awkward around the live cameras following him around. He’d constantly be asking for he and his partner to have a little privacy, or saying he didn’t want to reveal something on camera, only for the producers to take him aside like. Come on man. This is the whole point. He’d still end up perfect for reality TV because of his mysteriousness and seeming lack of reaction even when people around him are upset.

Mahiru would love the cameras. She narrates what was doing to them no matter if she was doing a confessional shot or not. Even when she and her partner get a moment in private, she’s excited to gush all the details to the crew the very second they’re back on, sometimes to her lover’s dismay. Her very visible emotions are perfect for television – she has lots of tears, giddiness and, even if not in anger, lots of high volume. 

Though I feel like neither of them would go on a show like this if it took place post-murders, I can’t even imagine the explosive reaction from fans when they reveal to their partners that their last lovers died right in front of them…….. 👀 

[good-beanswrites]

A set of Villain!Prisoner headcanons for @justzosiahere! I misread an earlier ask, but here are some thoughts on one of your aus in which the prisoners are residents in town and conspiring against Es/other newcomers. They’d make quite the terrifying team >:3

Haruka is the master of the puppy dog eyes that make someone forgive anything. Even if something seems suspicious, or he’s confronted for causing harm, he can flash those big, wet eyes, and it’s impossible to keep pressing without everyone in the vicinity jumping to defend him from this big, bad bully. Because of this perceived weakness, he always has the element of surprise when he needs to break out his physical strength.

While Yuno also has a downright irresistible pleading face, she never needs to use it on account for her perfected lying abilities. If she was able to keep her work a secret from her family for this long in canon, there’s nothing she can’t cover up if she’s determined. She has an excuse and an alibi for everything, but not one ever feels like an alibi or excuse, the way she says it.

Fuuta (with neither a cute face or an ability to lie lmao) relies more on his ability to gather information. He’s good at searching social media and leaving bait in chats to learn exactly what he wants to know. He’s seen enough people accidently expose themselves online when given the right setup trap and sets his own when needed. Sometimes the information he gains is harmless enough on its own, but with enough harmless facts, he can put together an intimidating message to get something he wants.

Muu has a lot of strings to pull, more than making up for her weaker emotional and physical constitution. She has money and connections in the area/organizations she’s involved with. She never uses them threateningly, instead knowing the right people to bribe and offer favors to in order to get something in return. She’s well-loved by everyone, making it extra difficult to confront her in public, or get her accomplices to turn against her. 

Shidou, similarly, uses promises of good things to manipulate a situation exactly how he wants. He knows all the ways the truth can be bent, stretched, exaggerated, hidden, and delivered that will earn him the desired reaction. Even the people closest to him – especially the people closest to him – find themselves subject to his deception because he knows them inside and out. 

The most dangerous thing about Mahiru is she genuinely believes what she’s doing is important/helpful/for love. She never means people any harm, but having such a beautiful motivation distracts her from the harm she really does cause – she can giggle and excuse really terrible actions as “a small price to pay in the name of love.”

Kazui, like Yuno, is so good at keeping secrets that it doesn’t even seem like there’s a secret to be uncovered. The major difference is that he has the brawn to back up the brains. He can engage in riskier and more obvious acts because even if he’s caught, he’s usually strong enough to get himself out of it easily. He’s not afraid of most physical situations, and that coolness really throws off his enemies.

Though it annoys her that she’s treated differently, Amane has learned to use people’s underestimation of her to hit them where it really hurts. Adults can be more open with information if they don’t think she’s listening or has any use for it. They may let security/access rules slide for her because she’s cute and harmless. She also has Haruka/Muu’s ability to get a crowd on her side if someone tries to go after her. 

Mikoto can infiltrate any social circle with all his people skills, using both people pleasing and weaponizing etiquette expectations to trap people in certain situations. John backs him up with physical power when needed. (I don’t know your thoughts on their relationship, but I love the idea that they’ve communicated, and if either one gets confronted for suspicious behavior, they can feign innocence and use the other as a scapegoat to escape.)

Kotoko obviously relies on her physical abilities to get the job done, but she has a major nonviolent advantage with her experiences from law school. She is very aware of the weaknesses and corrupt areas of the legal system, meaning she knows the loopholes and exploitation points that she can use.

[good-beanswrites]

what if es snapped? they should be allowed to be a little insane towards the audience and/or the prisoners.

(im thinking like: either obsessively checking to see if the prisoners are dead to an unhealthy extent, ignoring what the prisoners say (thinking of them like voices), and/or just randomly passing out and denying it) (OR: do whatever !! :D)

Ah yes, our perfectly healthy and normal warden! Aasfsd this was so interesting to write, there’s so much going on for them this trial… I really loved all these ideas (I’m a little insane over them mistaking the prisoners for the voices omg 👀) but I went with the good ole panic attack and passing out 😎👍

“Warden-san, are you, um! Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“R-really? You look a little pale, like –”

“I’m fine, Haruka!” They snapped at the empty room.

Es really was fine. Grief manifests differently in different people, after all. Some people cry, some people get angry, and some people have little lapses in memory like this if they don’t get enough sleep the night before. Hallucinations probably happened to everyone. Es tugged at their shirt collar, trying to get a breath of coolness after the incident. They were fine.

Muu’s absence from her cell irked them in its inconvenience, but mostly just confused them. The majority of Milgram’s occupants preferred to stick to their own privacy these days, themselves included. They left the room, thinking how ironic it was that Muu would leave her hiding spot the exact moment they wanted to ask her about the prisoners’ deaths.

They peered in the neighboring room to ask Fuuta if he knew her whereabouts, and maybe some of their original questions about the incidents. Conversations between them remained as tense as with the others, but at least he’d give them the straightest answer of the group. 

They froze, met with only dark space through the bars. Then they let out a short sigh. Yet another lapse in memory – of course he was with Amane.

Back past Muu’s cell, their quickened steps took them around the panopticon. As hard as they tried to keep their eyes fixed ahead, they couldn’t help but glance into the stillness of cell number five. Cell six was just as desolate. Their pulse raced when the next room’s occupant was missing as well. They pulled at their uniform again – they’d have to confront Jackalope about turning up the temperature in here.

The clicking of their boots grew louder as they rushed the next few paces to Amane’s cell. Es’ breath caught in their throat – it was empty.

“Amane? Fuuta? Muu?”

They tried to remember the original trip out of their room. Had they seen any of the prisoners? Their head spun. It was mere minutes ago, but they were having trouble remembering. 

Why did they come here in the first place? They had a question. A question about death. Images of swinging fists and desperate tears rose up in their mind. They saw crazed eyes and bloodied hands. Were those others’ hands, or their own? Their voice raised.

“Is anybody there? You answer your Warden when they speak to you!”

Es grabbed onto the next set of bars with a rattle. Then the next, then looping around the panopticon entrance to the first few cells. Nobody.

Lightheadedness washed over them. Everyone was gone. Were they also…?

“Answer me!”

They lost all pretenses of their authority, taking off at full speed and throwing open the creaking doors at each stop. They started calling names as loud as they could muster through a squeezing throat. 

Every single prisoner under their care had disappeared. This was their fault. Tears prickled their eyes. They didn’t mean for any of this to happen.

The echoing concrete bounced their desperate cries back at them. It hardly sounded like their own voice. What did they sound like, again? There were always too many voices…

Heat pressed in on their ears, muffling all sound around them. It crawled to their throat, making it impossible to breathe. Their hand clutched at their chest. The floor teetered under them.

Whatever had happened to the others, it was happening to them, too.

They tried to make it to the next cell – they’d lost count of whose they were approaching – but their legs gave out before they could. Their cape knotted around their arms as they tried to catch themselves from sprawling on the ground. Darkness swam at the edge of their vision. A pounding around them sounded like footsteps or their own heartbeat or something breaking. They wheezed in air.

Their lips mouthed, help, but no sound came out.

Then the world disappeared around them.

---

“What happened?” Muu poked her head around the tight gathering. Everyone had run ahead at the commotion, but her new uniform meant she always arrived last. “Are they okay?”

“They will be.”

Slipping into the group, she found Kazui carefully gathering up the heap of cape of limbs that was their Warden.

“They’re burning up,” he muttered. “I’m going to bring them to their room, they need some rest.”

“I heard them calling for Muu.” They were calling out for the others, too, but everyone’s expressions told that they didn’t need her reminder.

“A fever and an outburst like that… I think all the stress is catching up to them.” Kazui unfastened their cape, placing it aside as he hoisted Es up. Their hat tumbled back to the ground, rolling to Muu’s feet.

She stooped to grab it. She picked up the cape through her sleeves as well. “Why didn’t they just come talk to us?”

“I’m not sure. We eat at the same time every day, and that breakfast bell is difficult to miss.”

Mikoto frowned. “They’ve been pulling some all-nighters in their room. They must have lost track of the time. I’ve been there myself – it’s crazy the things you can miss when you’re like that…”

The room fell into silence, everyone guiltily watching Es' frail frame shrink into Kazui’s arms. Muu spent so much time fearing them this trial – between their fury upon hearing about the deaths, and the intimidating silence they fell into once the news sank in – she sometimes forgot just how small they really were. 

She didn’t know why she followed Kazui to Es’ quarters, or lingered so long after dropping off their cape and hat. Her uniform prevented her from helping as he laid them on the bed, but she still watched as he settled them onto the perfectly made sheets. She wondered the last time they’d actually slept there.

Kazui checked their temperature again, giving Muu the opportunity to stare a moment too long at their sleeping face – pale and clammy, devoid of all strength but little bursts, which appeared just long enough to spasm in pain, altogether exactly as Rei had looked – before she turned away with a jerk.

“They’ll be okay,” she pretended to reassure Kazui. “They will be…”

[good-beanswrites]

Speaking of Es going through it, I have a small angst section I ended up cutting from an earlier drabble of them reflecting the audience and having a terrible horrible no good very bad curtain call 👍

Shidou had explained the five stages of grief back in the first trial. Most didn’t pay him any mind, not expecting it to apply to their own unique situations. They certainly never expected it to apply to their Warden in such a near future.

It was easy to spot the denial. Es combed through the entire prison looking for the three missing prisoners. They peered around corners and talked to the others as if there was a way they could be standing just outside of their vision. They spoke to Jackalope as if all ten song extractions would be held as usual. They had extraction dates and birthdates written on their calendar, even going so far as to bake a cake on the 17th. No one ate any. Not even them. 

It was even easier to spot the transition into anger. Though they never raised a hand to the prisoners, things were discovered broken after they passed through the rooms. Most of all, they yelled. Of course the easy targets faced their wrath, but not even Yuno or Kazui’s quiet presences were safe from the vicious accusations. No one was spared: not Jackalope, not the voices in their head, not themself in the mirror when they thought nobody could hear, and not the deceased, who they cried out to in fits in the middle of the night. 

Bargaining occured quietly, and nonsensically, to Jackalope. In the late hours between bouts of sleep, they spoke of other timelines and second chances in which they vowed they would do things differently to save everyone. He couldn’t tell if it was simply rooted in a dream, or a genuine determination based on how frequently they reassured him they could do it. 

And then came depression. They never missed a meal, the others noticed, though it was impossible to claim Es was really present for a single one. Their gaze grew distant and dull. Their uniform wrinkled and rumpled, and sometimes was buttoned incorrectly or inside out for days at a time. The bags under their eyes grew red with the frequent crying in their quarters.

[good-beanswrites]

Haruka kidnapping Fuuta

(Order of Attack, I mean.)

Oooh, this was so interesting! I think Mahiru was so used to going with the flow, and didn’t seem to be moving around that much, that I didn’t see a lot of thoughts about her wheelchair specific struggles – but I 100% think Fuuta would experience wheelchair-grabbing violations… (Tw for that and brief mention of suicidal thoughts)

“Fuuta-san? C-can I, um, tell you something, alone? M-maybe back in my cell?”

Haruka looked between him, and where Amane and Mahiru sat around the wheelchair. His gaze was intense and pleading, but Fuuta huffed in reply.

“Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of them. I don’t have time for little kid drama like this.” He hoped the nonchalance could paint Haruka as the scared one of the situation.

Throughout the whole trial, not even Amane had caught on to his fixation over how many people were in a room at a time. Aside from the nights, which left him panicked and alert regardless, Fuuta made sure no less than three people gathered in a room at any given time. It was entirely logical – after all, they had very compelling evidence that two people weren’t enough to call for help if trouble arose. It was doubly true now that Fuuta couldn’t work his own wheelchair with a broken arm. Also, he still didn’t know who he could trust. Kotoko was the obvious danger, but some of the others were too unpredictable for him to comfortably sit alone with. Mikoto had been having those outbursts, and he didn’t like the jealousy in Muu’s eyes after verdicts were announced. 

However logical it was, the others would certainly label it melodrama if they knew the way his heart rate skyrocketed when there were too few people around. When questioned, he always gave a short, “it’s nothing.” 

So, even at the heartfelt request, he kept his words short and prayed the others kept their attention on Haruka.

The boy’s face fell. “O-oh, that’s okay. Um, another time, then.” He bowed his head and slipped out the door.

Mahiru poked Fuuta where she knew there were no bandages, shooting him a look. “You should let him talk to you! It sounded like a big deal.”

“Eh? But I tried! I didn’t think he’d just leave, jeez…”

“Next time –”

“Yeah, yeah, next time.” 

When the next time arrived, Kazui and Amane were the ones unknowingly maintaining the room’s safety for Fuuta. They were each involved in their own activities in the common room, but simply having them nearby was enough.

“Um! Is now a good time to-to talk?” 

Haruka’s voice strained even more. His eyes appeared even more wild. It unsettled Fuuta, but also meant he had no choice but to honor Mahiru’s request if things were already this bad.

“I mean, if you really need to, we could –"

“Great!” Without another word, he’d grabbed the back of the chair and was whisking Fuuta out into the hall.

“Hey!” He looked frantically over his shoulder, but Amane looked just as peaceful as always. He wanted to call out to her, but what could he say? He’d either admit he sounded like a panicked child, or need to insist it was nothing.

Even when he did get control of his voice, snapping a quick, “oi, wait a second!” it was too late. The panopticon rushed past him. He’d missed his window and was completely isolated.

The boy dragged him into the darkened cell, leaving him in the center of the floor.

His voice was tinged with the same hysteria in his eyes. “I just, well, I need to do something drastic. You’ll understand. I know that-that you’ll understand. I p-promise this will be quick.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Fuuta’s mind raced as fast as his pulse. “Something drastic?” 

“It’ll be quick…”

Fuuta craned his gaze backwards to see Haruka close and latch the door. He immediately regretted the motion, pulling something tight in his chest and shortening his breath. He spun back to gasp a raspy inhale.

“The Warden won’t p-pay attention to us unless someone gets hurt,” Haruka continued from behind. “They’ll only pay attention if – if someone dies.”

His footsteps approached. Fuuta grasped at his chest. As soon as he got his breath back, he’d cry out – but would anyone hear him? How much time would he have, before…?

“That’s why… I have to do this.”

Fuuta used to feel strong. He used to feel in charge, in control. He could go about his day feeling capable, and safe, and not think twice about who was in the room with him. He could talk when he wanted, walk where he wanted.

Now, he could only sit here, in a murderer’s room, unable to speak up as he circled around the wheelchair.

Haruka smiled. “No one will m-miss me, anyways.”

Fuuta blinked. He finally managed a shaky, “you?”

A knock on the door made both of them flinch. Muu’s voice came muffled from the other end. “Haruka-kun? Are you in there? I thought we were going to play a game.”

“Y-yeah!” Then, whispering, “ah. We can, um, talk another time.”

He went to answer the door, leaving Fuuta to hang his head. All his muscles untensed – he’d surely pulled more than his chest in his panic. And what shameful panic it was, worrying about himself, when this never had anything to do with him. 

It seemed he’d failed at being a hero in more ways than one.

On their way back to the common room, while Fuuta was contemplating the best person to confide the news to, Haruka apologized. “S-sorry for bothering you.”

Fuuta was glad he couldn’t see the expression that crossed over his face. “It was nothing.”