Chapter Text
The first thing she knew was the burn in her lungs and the ache in her chest.
Her eyes opened, slowly, vision clouded by steam and fog and blurring everything around the edges. She tried to lift an arm and found the effort to be more difficult than expected. She was so tired…her limbs her head, just sitting up took a monumental effort that had her grasping at the sides of the chamber she was entombed inside.
Everything ached…
Eventually the steam dissipated and her environment came back into focus. A room revealed itself to her, full of rusted machines and beeping screens gone dark. Exposed pipe and tubing crawled up the walls and roof, a musky rotting scent permeating everything and making her feel cold and damp. Somewhere in the distance was the dull sound of water dripping on stone.
It was an abandoned place, dull and rusted and rotting, and she felt just as abandoned entombed within it.
She looked down on herself, spotting pale petit limbs marred with marks, everywhere on her skin were signs of old wounds, even as she peaked beneath the worn hospital gown that was the only thing to cover her were there only more wounds to discover.
A ghastly scar over her chest made her wonder just how it was she was even alive…
A groan from her scarred stomach, a long line marring it, proved that alive she was, and so with trembling limbs she gripped onto the walls of her tomb and dragged herself out of the bed she’d been trapped in, her weakness causing her to roll over and flop onto the floor.
It proved to be fortunate however, for she found herself face to face with what could only be sustenance, bottles of water with dried rations and trail bars. It was meager fare but she pounced on it like the starving creature she was, feral and unknowing, thinking of comfort first before all else.
It wasn’t until the aching in her stomach ceased that she noticed the other object sitting beside the supplies, a large spiral bound notebook, along with slip of paper seemingly torn from the object itself, a written note.
She took the note first, after downing half a bottle of water, and found herself grateful that she could read it, her mind lacking in any other useful information.
“I found this place a few days ago, and only now I figured out how to wake you up. If you’re actually alive I’ll be back with more food and supplies after a day or two. I think you’ll find this book to be helpful figuring things out, so I’d suggest reading through it. Also, in case you can’t remember, your name is Nanami.
Signed, a friend.”
So the note read.
Nanami placed a hand to her face, suddenly disturbed to realize that she didn’t actually remember her name…or anything of note of her life before this moment. She trembled where she sat, chill running up her spine as things she’d been pushing to the back of her mind suddenly crawled forward. Who was she? Why was she here? How long had she been here? Why didn’t she remember…?
The note told her to read the book, so she took in a deep breath, settled herself on the floor, and picked it up.
Immediately her eyes were burned by the glittery pink letters that stained the yellowed paper, the writing itself was loud and abrasive, and she didn’t look forward to reading through the entire thing.
But read it she had to.
“I’ve totally done the self narration thing already and redoing it is SO BORING but y’know what I did realize, I’ve never actually written to a person before! So hello miss perfect, you just got yourself a diary entry written by yours truly, the one and only Junko Enoshima!!! Woo!!!!
Now, I’m pret-ty sure that I overdid it with the memory wipe on you, but I just COULD NOT let you ruin things!!! But don’t worry, I’m here to be your helpful handy guide to surviving the apocalypse! Or maybe not, I mean, the thought of you getting betrayed by your own survival guide does sound like fun doesn’t it??? But I’m getting off track.
Guess what, guess what!!! I already spoiled it buuuuuuut, ta dah!!! The world’s an apocalypse now!!! That means no modern conveniences, no family, no police force or ANYONE is coming to help you. So you’d better buck up and get good toots, else you won’t last a week in this hellscape!!!
Oh, but I have an even juicier deet for you my sweetness, this whole situation is technically YOUR FAULT!!! I know, great right??? I mean of course I’m not gonna tell you WHY it’s your fault, but trust me, you are definitely to blame for at least a third of this. Of course you can’t take all of the credit I mean it was all MY IDEA so most of the blame is from ~mwah~ but I still gotta give credit where credit is due, y’know???
Awww, don’t cry!!! I haven’t even told you the best most despairful part yet!!! The reason you’re to blame for this mess is because you’ve got a connection to my loyal lieutenants who’re currently destroying everything about the modern world you love at this very moment!!! They raised you up as a martyr, so when you fell, they all fell with you and right into my eager evil little claws~
Oops, did I say I wouldn’t tell you? Guess I told you anyway!!!
I’ve got aaaaaaaall my info about them in this journal, complete with juicy details as part of your survival guide, because if you don’t pay attention to it, you won’t survive!!! Geddit? And DON’T think about trying to talk to any of them, they remember you and a lot MORE than that, and so they’ll try to kill you as soon as they realize you’re still alive! Crazy right?
But that’s STILL not the best part!!! You wanna know what is? Do ya? Do ya? DO YA????
You’re not their perfect martyr. You’re not a perfect anything. You’re FLAWED. Because you kept a juicy little secret from them, something I didn’t even know existed until I’d already killed it while almost killing you.
You were pregnant, and I’m pretty it’s from one of them.”
Nanami dropped the book, one hand clutching tight to her mouth, the other to her stomach, her eyes burning as she trembled with frightened and confused sobs. The words were crazy, insane, too wild to be believed, yet a part of her, a deep, instinctive part of her couldn’t help but believe.
She didn’t want to go out to confirm, but she struggled to stand on trembling limbs, to search the room until she found a set of stairs climbing up from what she suspected to be a basement and onto a larger ground floor.
There were windows, boarded up, but the ominous red glow only made her more worried. Slowly she walked forward, ignoring dusty furniture and trash and focusing instead on the outside…
Empty streets. Abandoned cars. Ruined graffitied buildings. Rags and unmoving lumps under those rags.
And above it all a bloody red sky and air that felt like burning, choking…
Nanami ducked back into the basement, retreated back into her flimsy safe haven.
She sat back on the floor, starring hard at the notebook. So much had to be processed, so much and so little context. Was she really partially responsible for the ruin outside these walls? Did she have a connection to the people who supposedly helped cause it? And why…why did she…?
She clutched at her stomach again, checked under her robes and noted the scar scrawled atop it. A long, jagged line…
She let the robe fall and held herself, her inner core shaking from the cold and emotions both.
Somewhere out there was the parent of her murdered child, and if she saw them again they’d kill her without hesitation.
So the book said.
Nanami frowned, her eyes narrowing at the book, wondering just how much trust she could place in such a horrible personality. If what it said was true, it was also penned by the person who claimed to have caused everything, and just how trustworthy was such a person anyway? Pursing her lips she picked it up again, her eyes focusing on her stopping point.
“I haven’t figured out which one it is yet, you’ve been pret-ty good about keeping that information from me Nanami~ Oh, yeah, your name is Chiaki Nanami by the by, you probably don’t remember THAT either. Anyways your whole protective lover bs was getting dull so I’ve given up on it by this point. Feel free to let me know if YOU figure it out though, I’d LOVE to get to rub the baby’s corpse in their face!!! (It was a girl by the way, just so you know~ <3)
Anyways, that about wraps up all the hints I wanna give you in this chapter, I’ve got more coming up as well as a detailed look at each of my lovely little ministers of Despair~ You should be grateful, not everyone gets to know so many juicy details or even my own personal opinions on each and every one! Read and study faithfully my fallen whore of a pupil~”
Chiaki shut the book, bile rising in her throat, unable to read another word. Her eyes slid to the other note, hope in her throat that whoever was it’s author would be coming back soon, so at least she’d have someone other than glittery pink mocking pages to occupy her thoughts.
She ate more of the rations, drank another water bottle, then forced herself to drag her and the book back upstairs into the upper rooms.
It looked like an old living room, with an old couch, table and broken tv on one side and a messy kitchen on the other. There was trash haphazardly strewn about the place, but other than a few papers and some magazines nothing that she could really glean any info from.
That is, until she took a closer look at the magazine.
Blonde hair and blue eyes and long, jagged red nails…..
Chiaki stumbled back, fell on her ass and gripped at her arms as she shut her eyes to the face on the cover. She clawed at her skin, wanting to rip it off as a sinking crawling feeling dug into her, like nails tapping away and dragging and-no. No. She wasn’t going to think about it wasn’t going to dwell on it, no, no, no, no, no.
She curled in on herself, shuddering, forced herself to breath in slow.
She sobbed.
Why was this happening to her? What had even happened to her? This sick, vile feeling in her chest and her stomach, all of the information pouring down on her like an oppressive pressure on her shoulders…and on top of that, a yearning, aching, loneliness.
Whatever hope she had, whatever those words gave her, they left her nothing to cling to. Nothing to keep her afloat, to keep her going. Whatever help she could’ve had was dead alongside the potential allies in the book who’d do nothing but slaughter her soon as they reunited.
Why…why…?
If this was how it was going to be then why was she still alive…?
That thought made her freeze in place, her head suddenly aching as a vision flashed across her eyes. A long dark hallway, the walls filled with screens…
Desperate for a distraction from her own thoughts she opened up the book again.
“Name: Izuru Kamukura
Title: Ultimate Hope
Izuru is like, totally a killjoy most of the time. You’ve got him to thank for your being alive still~ So you should give him a big ol’ hug the next time you see him, yeah?
Only you probably shouldn’t see him at all. Death on sight, remember? He’s also the best at killing people, so, like, if he spots you you’re pretty much dead. I added in a picture for all these schmucks so you know what they look like so make sure to memorize them so you can run away soon as possible, mmkay???
Anyway, blah blah he’s got every skill, talent, ability under the sun blah blah it’s super boring, blah blah WHATEVER just talking about it’s making me go mental! UGH, but his personality is hilariously that of a wet noodle, or a brick wall. He’s got like NO motivation and is bored out of his SKULL cuz the folks that made him gave him like NO stimulation, HAH. And they say I’m terrible. At least he’s willing to work with me and the crew to bring despair onto the world~ So don’t think he’s like your ally or anything. Bastard had me cure you up, took one look at you and that dead fetus and fucking DIPPED. I, like, moved your location after but I dunno if he even fucking cares anymore.
I can’t really blame him I mean, I wanted to do something cool and dramatic with you but after seeing your dead kid I was totally bummed out for ideas when you wouldn’t tell me who the dad was! Which was rude of you by the way. You probably broke his heart or some shit and that’s why he abandoned you! So yeah you should like totally avoid him at all costs, he doesn’t even give good advice if you manage to talk to him, he’ll probably say some shit about how giving out hints is boring!!! Ugh. Ten out of ten, don’t ask again. Stay the fuck AWAY from him. It’s not worth it.”
Tearing her eyes away from the searing words Chiaki focused on the picture added to the entry. It was a photograph taped in the pages, that of a boy with long dark hair and deep red eyes.
Chiaki felt another headache coming on, she knew those eyes.
She shut the book again and dropped it on the kitchen counter, she was starting to see an unfortunate pattern with that book...
She lifted her eyes to the walls, to the red glow seeping in through the windows and painting the dim room with it’s light. There was so much to process, so much to think about, and even more to not think about. She eye’d the corner of the room where a pair of doors stood on two different walls. She should explore more, find more supplies and get some actual clothes and information, but a part of her was afraid of what other horrors she’d find.
Like the fact that Enoshima kept bringing up the baby. Did she keep the corpse? Was it here? Did she bring it with her when she moved locations-
No. No. She wasn’t going to think about it. Chiaki swallowed back bile and held herself tighter.
If there was one small, miniscule, bit of light about the whole situation it was that sometime in her past she loved someone enough to hide them from Junko.
She loved them enough to keep their child. She loved them enough to keep their identity a secret. Even if they were a monster she loved them through it all.
That…that was surely something to cling to. Something good, something warm.
It was scraps, dregs, but it was all she had.
Eventually she gathered the courage to explore the rest of the building, or at least the area she was given. The upper floors didn’t have much in them, aside from a ratty futon on the floor of one and a shoulder bag full of way too many clothes in another. There were also weapons scattered about, she took a switchblade for herself and left the rest, though it felt clumsy and wrong in her small hands.
She also changed into the cleanest of the clothes. A shirt with some 8bit characters called out to her, as well as a short skirt and some pink nylons. She found an old blazer to go over everything, and while the pockets were good for extra inventory slots, she felt the need to empty most of the shoulder bag in order to bring it with her.
She also found a cloth handkerchief buried amongst the clothes, and with an eye to the boarded up windows she added it along with some other outfits in the bag. She intended to wait for the helpful stranger, but something told her it’d be a good idea to pack up what she could as soon as possible.
There wasn’t anything salvageable in the kitchen, and other than the clothes and weapons there wasn’t anything in the rooms either. Chiaki eye’d the basement…but her stomach clenched and she remembered everything in the book and decided it was safer to avoid that area from then on.
The couch was still comfortable at least, after she removed all the sharp objects suspiciously buried in their cushions.
She slept there for the next two nights before she finally got her visitor.
A tall man with lengthy brown hair stood in the doorway, his gangly form framed with an ominous red glow. He wore a jacket and gloves, a gas mask covering most of his face and a large pack hanging off the side of his shoulder.
He tossed that pack aside, then took off his mask, so Chiaki could see his dull blue eyes and raised brows. “Huh, so you are still alive.” He commented.
Chiaki hiked her own pack onto her shoulder, a determined pressing of her lips. “Seems so.” She answered him, her voice soft and rough with disuse. “Are you going to help me?” She asked, narrowing her eyes, her other hand curled at her belt, where her knife lay.
In answer he smirked, amused and intrigued. “Yeah, sure, why not? S’not like we’ve got anything better to do in this shithole.”
Then he stepped forward, holding his unarmed hand out in her direction. It took her a moment to recognize, but then, her repertoire of information was only coming in bits and pieces now, so not even she knew what she knew most of the time until the bits presented themselves.
She offered her hand back, and he shook it with a firm and confident motion.
“Name’s Hiraku Iwai, and I’ll be your guide to the apocalypse for the foreseeable future.”
