Danganronpa: String Theory (DrV3)

5.2 - Distract

I can't tell where I am when I wake up, just that I feel as sluggish as I had when I went to bed. Along with the realization I am not in bed at all, instead slouched against a wall on the floor somewhere.

What happened...?

I woke up to charge my watch with Kokichi...and there was that Monokuma that-

A memory of a bulbous machine with bodies cramped inside of it. Two left legs protruding from the body. An arm.

Kokichi's unusual forwardness. Rantaro's request for me to distance myself.

Some of it doesn't feel real. Everything is overlaid with a dreamy haze of uncanniness. Especially...

My hand drifts to my lips, fingers wiping at the brittle dry skin. They're getting chapped. If what I think happened did happen, it probably wasn't pleasant.

No. Let's avoid that for now. Even if it happened, it probably didn't mean anything other than to satisfy his curiosity. Let's pretend it didn't happen.

I shift to sit up from my slouched position, arms dully aching with exhaustion. I could use a coffee, or maybe an energy drink. Something to wake me up and...

The empty maw in my belly yawns, reminding me of the flaw in that plan. A semblance of a morning's bad taste in my mouth is the only thing I can properly enjoy in regards to flavor, considering there's no point in ingestion.

Wasn't the flavor of something else last night just as enticing?

I pinch a small dry patch of skin from my lower lip, lifting it up and pulling. A sting and the hint of blood chases my thoughts on him away.

There's more merit in investigating where I am, but all I can think about is food and flavors right now. Rantaro's cooking. The snacks I've stashed in the back of my dresser, the nectarine slices Monokuma set out in the trial room...and I'm so thirsty my throat feels like sandpaper.

What if something else gets taken? My hands? My eyes? My legs...?

Monokuma really did open a door to terrible possibilities. Could I survive without limbs? All my organs?

What about my head?

My memory of headless Gonta sits in the forefront of my mind. Sawed at the neck slowly with a piano wire. Resting with a humiliating expression frozen to his face.

Things still hurt me. I don't want to know how that translates to my situation.

My mind wanders, following the hungry train of thought I had prior.

I want soup with chicken. Food with liquids, to get both of what I need in one fell swoop. Chicken steak with caramelized onion.

Spicy herb salmon, flakey and pink with a honey citrus glaze.

Mexican fried rice.

Pozole.

Pasta.

Steak...

A thud snaps me out of my spiral. It's from somewhere nearby.

Where am I?

With some convincing, I get back up on my feet in the dark. It's at that point that a small strip of lights on the four corners of the small corridor illuminates the space. I can see where to go now...and what's behind me.

"Push as hard as you can", I remember someone telling me. The "who", I can't remember.

Placing a hand on the wall, I give it a push. My biceps ache from the effort, but it's enough for it to swing open eventually. Suddenly enough that I have to catch myself as I fall forward.