『 Red Roses 』Danganronpa X [F] Reader [One Shots]

Your Faithful Servant [Izuru Kamukura] {AU} PT 2

F/F= Favorite Food

[If you didn't know already]

There's going to be a long-ass flashback in this chapter.

Y/N's POV

[High School: Senior Year]

Rumors.

That's the simple thing that had ruined my future. I was spoiled by them. Ridiculed.

Hated.

My grades slipped past my fingers in a flash, and soon, I was being labelled as the soon-to-be-dropout.

Mr. Saihara was fired, but yet the principal still made me come to this school and drag me through this endless hell.

Every single day was a growing pain.

Everyone threw their items at me: banana peels, rotten fruit, tomatoes, and the occasional shoving the bottom of their shoes on my locker. That left an entire streak of dirt running down the cold blue metal.

Where were my parents during this time? They were out.

Drunk.

My father couldn't bear my bad grades because the parents of the children who attended the school kept on blaming him for my behavior. They questioned his parenting skills even though he was the best father I could possibly ask for...

Well... he was.

My mother was out with another man. This has been going on for a while. Her many affairs had torn my family apart from when I recently turned thirteen.

I'm seventeen now, and nothing has gotten any better.

Slowly, I sat down in my seat for Biology, and the teacher turned around, a stern look on her face.

"Okay, you little brats. Get out your notebooks and copy the notes on the board. If you don't finish in ten minutes, you're seeing the principal, got it?"

When my apathetic eyes glanced up to the board, they slightly widened. The entire whiteboard was filled with notes in a single color. She didn't even make it colorful for all those hyperactive pieces of shit.

I rolled my eyes. I saw no meaning in the world.

Sighing, I grabbed a rag out of my black pencil case and started wiping down the desk. A quote printed in red was printed across the black bag in a beautiful cursive font.

'A best friend is like a four-leaf clover. Hard to find, lucky to have.'

In my little mind, a picture of a certain someone popped up.

I buried my face in my arms, whimpering to myself.

"Izuru..."

-Flashback-

[Year: Sophomore]

It was sophomore year, and I was just heading to get my lunch.

As I opened my locker, a bunch of notes probably filled with hatred and death threats fell out, but I didn't care. I grabbed each of the slips of paper one by one and stuffed them in my bag, not bothering to read one.

Quickly, I reached into my locker and grabbed my lunch which was thrown into a brown paper bag.

I quickly ran down the hallway, my eyes scanning for a certain sophomore.