#pregame –– i wouldn’t hesitate to smile while you suffocate & die.

[truthuncovered-a]

@ctrlaltkibo ♥’d for a pregame starter.

            ❝ well, if you won’t t-talk, then maybe th-this will. ‘ you pull out a knife, a switchblade you pocketed from one of the delinquents at school, & rest the tip against suzuki’s throat, watching his eyes for the fear you long to see. a sick sense of joy bubbles within you, like a soda bottle that had just been opened –– slow at first, then boiling over into a wide smile. ❝ so... wh-what’s it g-gonna be ? your apology or your life ? ‘ the other boy, who had been struggling against you goes still, body frozen in place. 

            ❝ i don’t know, hinata-kun ! i d-d-don’t know where your fuckin’ figure went, please just...let me go. ‘ his eyes widen with terror, unable to turn around to look into yours. your smile fades as you increase the pressure on the blade, the side slowly sinking into the delicate flesh until a drop of blood glints ruby in the dying sunlight. 

           ❝ this isn’t about my figure, suzuki. ‘ your voice slides easily off the tongue, frigid venom freezing your broken syllables into full, complete words. ❝ this is about you. all these years, you’ve made fun of me, laughed when i just wanted to talk to you. all these years, i just wanted to get to know you, be friends with you, even. & you’ve done nothing but treat me like trash. ‘ a shaky laugh convulses through your entire body, causing the blade to sink deeper in the process. ❝ i g-guess it’s garbage day, isn’t it ? ‘ you hiss, repeating his famous catchphrase that he’s burned into your skull. does it hurt, little boy ? you wonder. how does it feel to be treated like trash ? 

               but not a peep from the other boy. guess when you’re playing his game, he has no room to talk shit. but you’re starting to get bored. you slowly sweep the knife across his throat –– 

               until a strange feeling creeps down your spine, rivulets of ice freezing your blood solid. though you’re alone, you feel as if a thousand eyes are staring you down. the last thing you want is an audience. you drop the knife, suzuki wrenching himself free from your grip & sprinting off into the darkness, blood dripping onto the pavement with every step. ( run off, little boy. run away from the monster you’ve become. ) fear holds you in its icy grip, forcing you to bend down & pick up the knife. gray eyes sweep around the area, pale hands clenched around the handle. ❝ wh-who’s there ? ‘

[truthuncovered-a]

verse banner src.

name: hinata shinichi ( surname, given ) height: 5′7″ weight: 120 lbs. chest: 80 cm blood type: ab date of birth: september 7. likes: danganronpa, novels, mysteries. dislikes: gossip. ethnicity: japanese gender: trans male. face claim: himself.

lightning round bullet points because i am lazy™ & i don’t want to write out full ass paragraphs for this boy.

much like his in-game counterpart, shinichi grew up in a neglectful home, where seeing a solar eclipse was more likely than spending significant time with his own parents. of course, he had a few relatives checking in on him from time to time, but as soon as he began to enjoy their presence, they would be gone again to resume their busy lives. loneliness isn’t new to him, but it doesn’t make it any less painful. 

as such, he spent many nights alone, curled up in bed with the tv on to drown out the deafening silence around him. one night, while surfing through channels, he stumbled upon a rerun of danganronpa 8 & thought he’d give it a shot. after all, it’s not like he had anything better to do. anything that helped him escape his nightmarish school life filled with bullies & dysphoria was good enough for him.

skip a few hundred hours binging the show & he was already doling out whatever money he could on merch –– figurines, keychains, posters, you name it, it ended up in his little hands. he felt that this is it. his whole life’s purpose that was hidden from him for so long was finally unfolding before his very eyes. 

for a while, things were good. as soon as he started recognizing that little monokuma dangling off of someone’s phone, that was his cue to go talk to them about the show. some found his advances flattering, while others were weirded out by his forwardness. still, he had finally found a sense of joy, of purpose that had never occurred to him before. 

he even began researching the life of detectives ( thanks to kyoko kirigiri ) & criminology & was enraptured by the lifestyle. to constantly live on the edge, solving mysteries left & right with minimal clues & a sharp intuition...it was fascinating to him.

still as he kept blowing through season after season after season... something didn’t feel right. as more people resembling those who hurt him kept dying off, there was an odd void in his chest. 

& as the bullying got worse, his grades began to plummet. & so whatever fragments of self-esteem he had begun to cultivate dropped like flies. he felt as if at any moment, the ticking time bomb inside him could go off.

& go off it did. on the way home from school, he was accosted by a fellow classmate & before he knew it, he found himself holding a knife against their throat, blinded by sheer rage. 

the only thing that stopped him was the odd feeling that someone was watching him from the shadows. if there’s anything he knew from danganronpa, it’s that being found out is like the kiss of death. so he let them go...for now. 

the next morning, he found an invitation from team danganronpa in his mailbox. finally, he had made it...but was it for the right reasons?

[truthuncovered-a]

          in the seconds before the camera’s red light starts flashing, there are rivers of electric energy coursing through every inch of your body til they pool at your toes. this is it: the moment you’d been waiting for what seems like your entire life. finally, it’s time to show them... you take a deep breath, roll your shoulders back like the articles online told you to do. 

          the cameraman presses the record button & gives you the signal to speak. no turning back. speak clearly & from the heart, like you practiced for so many nights.

          ❝  number 154, hinata shinichi. i-i’ve loved danganronpa for a long time now... i would like to participate in it someday. if i do get to participate, i would like to become the ‘ultimate detective.’ there have been some ‘ultimate detectives’ in the past, & i loved them... s-so i want to be just like them. ‘

        ❝ oh, but y-you don’t have to make me a detective ! ‘ you sputter, ❝ a-a-anything is fine as long as i get to be on danganronpa ! a-anyway, i absolutely w-want to particip-pate in the world of danganronpa... ' 

         with that phrase, the tension that had been holding you back melts away like snow in april. your lips slice up into a grin, roses blooming under your cheeks as you gaze into the camera in earnest.

        ❝ so if i can participate in this killing game, i a-absolutely promise to do my best ! i-i’m going to amaze e-everyone & commit a murder that no one e-else has ever seen before ! th-the ultimate detective should have a trick that only detectives c-can use ! i-i’ve even thought about my execution –– something that’ll fit the ultimate d-detective ! ‘

        you pause, words fading off of your tongue as your gaze flickers back to the camera crew. it’s impossible to read their expressions, but you hope that somewhere beneath their stony faces, there’s a glimmer of hope. a hope that somehow, you can fulfill your lofty promises. bowing, you look each of them straight in the eye with a bright smile. ❝ a-anyway, thank you for your time. i... look forward to hearing from you. ‘

[truthuncovered-a]

This is a perfect day to watch Shinichi cry. Seiji made sure he could find a box that looked big enough for a figure and made sure it seemed as if it was shipped overseas. If he recalled, there were a few new DR figures that were leaked, one of them being Hinata. He had to make sure the box was at least a bit heavy, so he threw in whatever he could find in his desk. Surely he'll get it back eventually." Sh-Shiinichi! " Seiji ran up to him, looking excited as he presented the box to him. [ 1/2 ]

“ Y-You remember th-those leaks r-right? W-Well … ” He gave the box to his brother, seemingly able to pull up an excited look on his face. Aside from the crap he threw in, there was nothing inside but a lot of green tissue papers, and a letter that simply said “ Shinichi, please don’t make me cry. What the hell is your last name? Your choices are so dumb but I still love you so much. Even if you’re stupid. You’re my stupid brother.

april fools! | accepting still.

            dove grey eyes sparkle with delight as you practically grab the package out of your brother’s hands ( you make a note to apologize to him later since you’re far too excited to say much at the moment ). ❝ sh-shut up ! h-how did y-you get th-this ?? seiji, this is amazing ! ‘ then your mouth thins into a straight line as you take out a switchblade that you’d found on the school steps & slice through the tape with a swift stroke –– a skill you’d acquired through years of collecting danganronpa merch. you couldn’t bear the thought of damaging the figures that you’d used your hard-earned money on, no sir. 

               opening the box, you dig through layers & layers of tissue papers ( these figures must be very delicate, you think ), hoping to strike gold... only to find a handwritten note from seiji. at any other time of the year, you would have berated your brother for playing such a dirty trick on you but you just find yourself laughing, shaky but genuine as you punch him in the arm. ❝ y-you are s-so d-dumb, you know th-that ? ‘

[truthuncovered-a]

" I-If you bought a H-Hajime bodypillow, h-how happy w-would you be? " [ you kno who this is for and from ]

first of all how dare you // acc. 

            for a second, you’re frozen still, mouth slack for what seems like hours. then it feels as if someone had turned on a heater inside your system –– your pale skin turning to the shade of a ripe strawberry. the warmth blooms into a full, sweltering heat wave, burning your pores & welding your feet to the spot you’re standing on. you know your brother’s coming from a loving place, but there’s a sick, twisted corner of your one-track mind that warps the other’s words into poisonous judgment ( obsessive fanboy who can’t tell reality from fiction, gay for a character that will never love you back ). 

             you want to tell him it’s not like that, you know he’s a fictional character & you’ll never have a chance with him but… seiji is just curious. all you have to do is answer the question & steer the conversation somewhere else. simple as that…right ? 

              ❝ i-i mean… ‘you start, teeth sinking into your lip as your gaze drifts its natural resting place on the ground. ❝ i w-wouldn’t be opposed t-to d-doing that, i-i guess… ‘ maybe now’s not the time to bring up your search history on ebay…

[truthuncovered-a]

how soft are you ?

          ❝ w-what ?! n-n-no, this must be a mistake ! this is wrong i-i’m not soft i-i just... i... ‘