Project Arc: an Original Fanganronpa

Chapter 5, Act 1

"A Comprehensive Guide to Being an Ultimate," by the Archivist.

"Famous Ultimate Literary Works," by the Archivist.

"Ultimates of the Past and Present," by the Archivist.

"No, no, no..." I muttered to myself as I cast the papers aside, scowling. "Who is the Archivist and why is my room filled with their documents..? Aren't there any clues about what's going on here?!"

"The Greatest Anti-Ultimate Crimes of the Past Decade," by the Archivist.

I sighed and checked my watch. 7:03 AM. A little after Mononeko's Morning announcement. To my surprise, it wasn't only the loudspeakers that announced morning today, but a gentle knock on the door.

Knock knock.

Who could it be at this hour? A friend? I lurched towards the door, before stopping myself. Or an enemy.

There was another knock on the door as I eyed it warily, before giving in. Well... It might be important.

I dusted my dress and slowly opened the door, my eyes narrowed with suspicion, to find–

"Henri?" I opened the door all the way. "Henri, are you alright? You don't look so good– uh, that is to say, you look really pale..."

Henri took a small step forward with a slight smile on his face, feigning happiness as he leaned against my doorframe, his dark eyes lingering on the nameplate of my door. I peeked around the hallway, before turning back to Henri.

"Well, don't just stand there! Someone may be plotting something!" I say sharply, before tugging on Henri's sleeve into my room, shutting the door behind me. I eyed him with half-hearted suspicion. "So... what's your deal? Why are you here? Henri?"

Henri ignored me, his eyes drifting around my room. He seemed almost... distant. Wistful.

"Nice room," he finally muttered. "It's very... you, if that makes sense. It's beautiful."

Henri sat down on my bed and looked around. My eye twitched in equal parts confusion and annoyance.

"Stop avoiding the question, Henri. Why are you here? Did something happen? I thought everyone after the meeting yesterday agreed to avoid each other, and– huh? What's that?"

My eyes caught something I hadn't noticed before. Henri clutched a white slip of paper in his left hand. Henri's eyes followed mine, and he hastily stuffed the paper in his pocket.

"Oh, er, it's nothing. Don't worry about it, Beau," he said in a lighthearted tone, dismissing my words off with a small wave of the hand. He sighed. "Say, Beau?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever wonder why our rooms are so perfect for us?"

I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms, taking a seat next to Henri on my bed while still keeping a respectable distance.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, my room has a desk, and the walls are lined with hundreds of poetry anthologies. But that's not all. It's also decorated in a way that seems very... personalized. As in, it has some things that make it feel like my own room back at home. The plants I like. The walls are my favorite colors. That sort of thing."

Come to think about it, I don't know much of any of the Ultimates here. Not even Henri.

"Same with you, it looks like," he continued. "The walls match your dress. Plenty of detective books and documents and files. But it also has a very unique, vintage, and elegant feel to it."