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Shuichi stares at the tablet. The tablet stares back.
“It’s too early for this,” he mutters to himself, picking it up and observing it. It’s very obviously obnoxiously coloured - like something a child would make. The Monokubs, then, since Monokuma’s contribution would have resulted in something with a monochromatic colour scheme, not this horrendous amalgamation of colours.
His deduction is confirmed as the monitor switches on and the Monokubs announce a series of gifts in each of their rooms.
Obnoxious colour scheme aside, it seems to look just like the MonoPad, and Shuichi assumes that it functions similarly. So, he taps the screen twice, watching as it lights up under his fingers. His guess was accurate. Good to know that there’s some sense of predictability in this strange place.
“Alright! Back by popular demand, it’s time for the motive video!”
There’s no interface, only a screen (looking like something out of a game show) that shows the words “Ouma Kokichi’s Motive Video” (which… that’s not Shuichi?) and Monokuma’s grating voice. True to word, his friend’s silhouette stands in the background of the screen.
“Who’s the most important person in your life? And now, without further ado…”
The screen fades to show a picture of a group of ten together, Ouma-kun amongst them. They’re all decked in slightly ridiculous outfits, and all are holding… something. From the picture, Shuichi can’t really tell.
“Ouma Kokichi, the Ultimate Anthropologist…”
The tablet continues to play its video, but Shuichi barely registers anything from it.
There must be more videos, shouldn’t there? Everyone should have one of them, even if it seems that they didn’t exactly reach their intended recipients. And if someone has his video, with this pattern of introduction…
Shuichi heads to the dining area, tablet tucked firmly in one of the many hidden compartments on his outfit.
It’s fine. It’s fine.
It has to be.
-
Ouma-kun is waiting for him, standing outside of the dining area, half-hidden in the shadows. Anyone else would simply overlook the other, except for maybe Hoshi-kun (he’s a leader, and a leader’s responsibility would include, well, knowing where his people are) and Toujou-san (she’s a detective, and that’s enough said on the issue).
“Ouma-kun,” he greets, with a nod and a light smile, trying not to think about the motive video in his pocket, burning a hole through his outfit.
“Saihara-chan,” the anthropologist nods in return, a playful grin plastered onto his face. “Did you get a video as well?”
He nods. “It was…” He trails off. It’s not like he actually watched it past the introduction. It’s not like he wants to watch it. “I only got as far as the name and title,” he settles on eventually. It’s not a lie. “It felt like I was intruding on someone else’s privacy.” Also not a lie, but is rather misleading, when put together.
“Oh, boo,” Ouma-kun pouts. “And here I was hoping we could exchange all the juicy deets about our motive videos. It’s so interesting to see how Chaba-chan’s upbringing has shaped her into the tennis player that she is today!”
“If you just wanted to analyse stuff like that,” Shuichi points out. “You could have just asked them for their histories.”
“It’s not the same, though,” the other sulks, then brightens up. “Are you ready to deal with everyone else?”
No. But Shuichi nods anyway. It’s not like it would make any difference in anything.
-
The dining area is in chaos when they enter it.
Chabashira-san is standing (in the eye of the hurricane) on a table, a tablet in her hand and a determinedly aggressive look in her eye. Everyone else is gathered around her, sending wary looks at the two of them as they enter.
...Ah.
The tennis pro jumps down from it and marches up to them.
“Did you know?” She demands, pressing a thumb firmly into Ouma-kun’s chest.
The anthropologist chuckles, eyes guarded. “Did I know… what? You’ve got to be more specific, Chaba-chan. I know a lot of things, and I don’t know even more. Or do I know less? How do you quantify what you don’t know?”
“None of your fancy wordplay!” She snaps, raising the motive video in the air and pressing its screen.
The introduction is the same, with Monokuma starting by announcing the arrival of the motive video, by… Popular demand? ...Interesting. Shuichi can’t believe he missed that earlier. The screen, however, has “Saihara Shuichi’s Motive Video” written across it.
Ah. So he guessed accurately, after all.
...This is not going to go well.
“Saihara Shuichi, the Ultimate Assassin !...” The video announces cheerfully. There’s a moment of collective silence across the hall, and the video continues on, showing a picture of him and his uncle. “Nope, this young man isn’t the Ultimate Child Caregiver, and never was. Did he fool anyone, though? Why, of course! An entire lifetime of being trained to be an assassin lends to excellent lying skills, don’t you think?”
...He sees. So these videos weren’t technically made for them , but rather for their classmates . Maybe there’s no mistake in the allocation of the videos.
Shuichi manages a quick side glance at his… friend. The only one he has in this academy. The only one that he thinks he could consider a friend in this academy.
...The anthropologist’s face is blank.
Shuichi doesn’t like what it could mean.
Chabashira-san jabs the video to a pause sharply, and lowers the tablet from view. It’s at this point where Shuichi realises that the entire dining hall had fallen silent as the video played, not a single word of protest coming from their mouths. Instead, their eyes are locked on both him and Ouma-kun, and Shuichi wants to run and hide.
“So, Saihara?” The girl demands, careful to keep a distance away from him. This is what he has been avoiding. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
Everyone’s eyes are on him, and it’s the exact opposite of what his talent calls for - every instinct screaming at him to run and hide. He stands down and meets Chabashira-san’s eyes instead of listening to said instincts.
“Would you believe me, even if I said it wasn’t true?” He shoots back, probably a little too defensive for his own good. “It is, anyway, if it really matters that much.”
The hall bursts into commotion once more, yelling everywhere. There're threats. There's panic. There's everything he was trying to avoid by lying about his talent.
Shuichi’s tired of this already, and his talent has barely been revealed for five minutes. This is stupid. He is not just his talent - has all that time spent cultivating relationships with his classmates meant nothing? He is not just his talent, but everyone seems too narrow-minded to see it, paranoia taking over their more rational senses.
Someone - it sounds like Yonaga-san. ...Really? The Ultimate Aikido Master too? - yells a suggestion that he should be locked up. Permanently. ...That’s enough. Enough is enough. Shuichi slips away like he’s been taught to do, silent in all the ways that are important.
No one notices, just as it should be.