The Good, the Bad, and the Beautiful (Peko x Fuyuhiko) [COMPLETED]

Part 4, Chapter 2 (16 years old)

Peko's POV

I began walking into the school, repeating the rules in my head.

"1. A tool does as they are told.
2. A tool does not feel.
3. A tool does not ask questions.
4. A tool does their duty.
5. A tool is ready to die."

Those were the rules set out for me. Those are the rules that I intend to obey. So he doesn't do that to me again.

"Hey Peko, you set up your room yet?" Fuyuhiko's words snapped me back into reality.

"Oh, I don't have much to do, but no."

He checked his watch. "We've got a while. Let's do that and then go to homeroom."

We went to the dorms and I found mine with the girls. I pulled out my luggage, and started putting my clothes in the drawer while Fuyuhiko stocked the kitchen with some dishes.

"Let's head out. We can finish later, we're late." I said.

1. A tool does as they are told.
2. A tool does not feel.
3. A tool does not ask questions.
4. A tool does their duty.
5. A tool is ready to die.

I recited the rules for myself again. This time, the last one finally got into my head. What had I gotten myself into? What had my father, my late father, gotten me into? Why must I be a tool? Because I am destined to be one. Another voice in my head told me. This is me.

We entered the classroom, and I followed Fuyuhiko to the back. That's when my phone rang. Class hadn't started yet, and I picked it up. "Hello?"

"Pekoyama."
"Mr. Kuzuryuu."
"While you're there, the clan needs a favor."
"Meaning..."
"Meaning I need you to perform a hit. I'll send you the details on the guy. You know the drill. I don't care how or when you do it, just get it done. And don't you dare tell Fuyuhiko."
"Sounds good."
He hung up.
I didn't have time to look at the details on the guy before class started.

The room was full of a colorful variety of teen archetypes and interesting characters. They came in all shapes and colors, making me wonder about the life I am going to end. I held the phone beneath the table, checking the details. Jiru Krona. He was a good looking middle aged man, with a family. His wife if course, and their daughter, who turns three in two days. Crap. I kept scrolling. He works for the police office. Who would need someone like that killed?

1. A tool does as they are told.
2. A tool does not feel.
3. A tool does not ask questions.
4. A tool does their duty.
5. A tool is ready to die.

I can't ask questions. I've just got to do this. Class went by in a blur. I was in and out of it, wanting desperately to get out of this, but knowing what lies ahead of me.

Time skip to that night, but first I'm gonna do my little thingy. First of all, we're at 2.34K readers. That's super awesome, thanks so much. Also, I'm sorry this took so long, writers block is a bitch. Next, we got an art challenge winner. @FizzyQuake designed Mikan Tsumiki as a Pokèmon!

With that over with, let's get back into the story.

That night, the thought of killing that man was the only thing on my mind. I didn't have a plan. It was just a get in, get out operation. I didn't want to kill the family too, but if they saw me, I knew I couldn't take chances.

That night, I snuck out and went to the address. It was a quaint and cute little place. I snuck around it, finding the master bedroom where he slept in the bed, next to his wife. That's when I started. I called his wife's phone and she picked up and left, as not to wake her husband. I made an idle conversation, trying to keep her on the phone, as I stabbed her husband in the back and slit his throat open silently, nearly feeling it myself as a lump of sour and bitter bile rose up in my throat. Tears threatened and I left quickly. That's all I remember. The details never stick when you're doing a hit. You never want to them to, either.

I came into the dorm building silently, walking past the halls with the nameplates of students. That's when I realized that I was the monster in the midst of children. I don't belong. Not that a tool like me needs to, though.

I slept outside. It was late, and I was tired after all. It was cold, but that's a small price to pay.
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Monokuma Theatre
Monokuma: Boy oh boy, has it been a while since I got one of these! Today class, we're talking about worthiness. Isn't it funny that we decide whether or not we deserve things? I mean, the universe doesn't care what we think! We might as well skip all the selfless bull crap and take what we want. There's nothing saying we don't deserve that!
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I squinted my eyes in the bright sunlight. I could make out a dark shape above me, someone gently shaking me awake.

"Hey, are you okay? Hey!" It sounded like a man, but it wasn't Fuyuhiko.

I managed to open my eyes a little bit more and see the guy's face. He had poofs white hair, and his skin was abnormally pale, the pallor of the Ill and the dead. His eyes were a dull and striking gray-green.

"Wake up!"

I sat up. "Who are you?" I asked.

He told me. "I'm Nagito Komaeda. Ultimate lucky student. A pretty trashy title if I'm being honest. You?"

"Peko Pekoyama. Ultimate swordswoman. Why are you out here so early."

"I like to take a morning walk. Did you sleep out here?"

"... yeah..."

"Its a little cold though. At least wear a jacket next time. You wanna come with me? We still have a while before classes start."

"Why not?"

And that was how I befriended Nagito Komaeda.