Azumi, January 9th, 8:37 am

As Ren, Yuu, and I sit around the dining room table, attempting to formulate our next approach, the other three reconvene with us. Their expressions appear dour, especially Fujiko's, whose typically sparkling eyes are cloudy. She almost stumbles into her seat, and it's enough to make goosebumps rise up on my arms. "Goodness... what has occurred to make you so crestfallen?" I ask.

"I don't know what that word means..."

"We discovered something creepy about the simulation machines. Long story short, if you quit a simulation in the middle with Monokuma's remote, the person in the simulation loses their memory of it," Chimon explains. "It really shook her up, so we decided it would be way too dangerous to try a Forced Shutdown. Now we're just trying to figure out what to do."

Ren wraps an arm around her and rubs her shoulder supportively. She hugs herself and then shakes. "I'm good. I'm fine. What about you guys?"

"No luck with finding secret passageways yet, but we did learn that, for some reason or another, our Monoinu unit was designed to help us, and he didn't even know," he mentions.

"That's... weird... Why would he make someone to help us?" Gou asks, leaning in with interest.

"I was wondering that, too. But Monoinu need Monokuma's permission to answer our questions, and by the way they skirted around that, I don't think they tell us that." Yuu then takes the keys on the table and holds them up so everyone can see. "We'd mentioned possibly checking everyone's bedrooms with the keys Monokuma gave us. Since Wakumi's room gave us good intel, we figured someone else's might, too."

Chimon's eyes light up with curiosity. "Oh! Good thinking! I would've thought Monokuma had destroyed everything, but now that I think about it, there really isn't any point to locking a bunch of empty rooms. Can we join in?"

"As you wish. Though we ought not to all explore separate rooms at the same time. At least two people per room. I trust all of you not to hide anything, but two eyes are better than one, are they not?" I instruct.

"Sounds like a plan. I wanna look in Keiji's. He was the one who found the bathroom passage. We don't even actually know where that one starts," Yuu recalls. "Where else are you guys thinking about?"

"We should probably check Hachi's and Ikinari's. It's been the longest since we were in there. Besides, as selfish as this sounds, I denied the opportunity to look in there after she died. I'd kind of like another chance," Ren murmurs, plucking at the chains on his hips and avoiding eye contact.

"Hachi..." Gou mutters. He tilts his head back a little and takes in a deep breath. "I want to check that one."

"I will accompany you. I did check her room once, right before the first trial, so even if my memory is a smidge fuzzy, I will hopefully prove useful."

Fujiko clacks her nails against the table and thinks for just a second. "Then I'll go with Ren to Nari's. That okay, Yuu, Chimon?"

"Let's do this," Chimon nods in the affirmative. The six of us pair up, take the respective keys off the ring, and then depart from one another to scour our assigned rooms.

Gou closes his eyes and takes yet another deep breath before unlocking Hachi's door. "Are you alright?" I inquire softly, twisting to meet his eye.

He gives me a half-smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just crazy. She's where all of this started." I dwell on this for a moment as we stand outside the door.

"You are correct. And then the rest of us began to fall like a house of cards. How naive I was back then... It is my hope that everything we've learned from each one of them will assist us. Both in our final battle here, and, if all goes well, in our 'normal' lives. Though to be frank, I do not believe anything will ever be 'normal' again."

He swallows thickly, processing my words. "I think you're right on that front. No rest for the weary, as they say." At last, we open the door and walk in.

It's remarkably free of dust. Everything is precisely where we left it, as far as I can recall (though, of course, my memory is likely at least a tad faulty). The pyramid of stuffed animals resting on her bed, the stacks of notebooks and floral paraphernalia, the Post-It Notes with reminders. "Oh! That does remind me. Hachi's journal... I remember selecting it for a peculiar reason. I am not precisely sure what that reason was, but I was intrigued by it," I mention.

"That'd probably be the best place to go from here, then. Let's scope this place out real quick, first, though." So the two of us investigate Hachi's bedroom. It feels like a much smaller space than the rest of ours, despite being the same size as all the others, due to the sheer amount of possessions she has. Truthfully, it is a miracle that she was able to bring all of this with her. "Hey, Zu, come look at some of these notes and reminders with me. There are so many that it's gonna be hard to sort through them."

"I am at your service," I agree, walking to her nightstand where he is. We spread piles of notes onto her desk. Their contents are extensive. They range anywhere from recipes, to flower facts, to instructions on where all her coats are. Some are reminders to tell or give people things, or even just simple musings. Among this category, there is one that's dated only a few days after our imprisonment here. "The light fixtures remind me of my spy dream. Do you believe this has any relevance whatsoever?"

He squints as if reaching for recollection. "She... mentioned that every now and then. A surprising amount. You know Hachi, when she fixates on a thought, it's not easy to derail her. She said..." he hesitates and clicks his tongue, trying to pull up more memories. "She had a dream. She wasn't sure if it was right before we got here or significantly earlier. She was a superspy, and she and her partner were climbing through an opening in a light fixture. The office lights reminded her of it, and I guess those thoughts kept her busy."

"Office lights, you say? Are we desperate enough to try it?"

"What? You mean try and bust open the office lights? There's no way that would work. She also clearly had an attachment to the weeping willow, so not every idea in her head is a potential clue," he retorts skeptically, pointing to a note with the words, 'People keep stopping me from climbing that willow tree.'

"Well, at the very least, we should retrieve her journal and give it more than a cursory glance. Don't you agree?"

"See, now that's an idea."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yuu, January 9th, 9:01 am

I know the point was that Sayuri wasn't searching as deeply as she could have when she, Joanie, and Zu were investigating his murder, but I feel as though my personal way of doing these things is actually managing to be somewhat helpful. After Chimon and I go through all the standard places to check– bookshelf, desk, files– I come up with an idea. Nobody's bothered to hide anything in their closet, which I find odd. The first couple of investigations, I remember giving at least cursory glances to their shoes, admittedly just because I was interested. Aside from that, though, as far as I know, nobody's paid much attention to people's clothes or even their closet.

"Your eyes are lighting up," Chimon notes, squinting as though trying to get a read on me.

"You know how Keiji was. He had a hollowed-out book as a way to hide his voice recorder and looked up basic information on all of us before even arriving here. He was pretty cautious and secretive. It's not unlikely that there would be some evidence hidden in tricky, unconventional places." I tilt my head toward the closet, and he takes a moment to soak in what I'm implying before nodding in agreement.

"I can get into the nooks and crannies! I may not be quite as small as I was when I got in here, but for once, my stature is convenient!" He gives me a proud smile, grabs a small flashlight that Keiji kept on his desk (a normal one, not a Flashback light), and then slinks into the closet. Meanwhile, I take to testing out pockets. I try to reach into pockets from his various vests and slacks, even– Gasp!– a few pairs of jeans. The issue is that my fingers don't really fit with my gloves on. I don't really want to touch someone else's pants with my bare hands, even though they've totally been washed, but whatever. I do what I have to for the sake of getting the fuck out of this hellhole. Chimon pops out quickly, accidentally ramming into my shin with his head. "Ack! Ow. Warn a guy when you're blocking the exit," he grumbles, wincing.

"Sorry! Really sorry!" I apologize, backing up to let him out.

"Found this box thing!" He sets it on the desk and pulls off the lid in anticipation. "Oh, it's just a Leitner box. That's not as fun as I was hoping." The disappointment in his tone is immeasurable, which briefly makes me chuckle.

"What's a Leitner box and why are you so annoyed by it?" I ask.

"Studying method. Honestly, I kind of figured he had one. Trivia champions need the best techniques possible. It blows my mind just how many notecards are in this sucker, though. Dude must've made like thirty a day or some shit like that!"

I bite my lip, sorely regretting my life choices. "Do... do you think he actually has anything important to our causes in there?"

"Oh, God, are you telling me to sort through this mess?"

I wince. "Kind of? I'm trying to check all of his clothes' pockets. And then I'm gonna wash my hands. For probably way too long."

"If I don't find anything interesting in five minutes, I'm moving on," he declares. He grabs notecards from varying sections and starts scanning through them, casting me a comically frustrated glare every now and then. It's a nice distraction. Quickly, however, he grunts in frustration. "So. Good news. Looks like there may be good shit in here. Bad news. He ripped it up and put the pieces on different flashcards, literally making us sort through ALL of these suckers to find everything and reassemble whatever information he has."

"Determined to make everything a challenge, even post mortem," I agree. Suddenly I feel something, so I pull it out of the pocket. It's a folded scrap of paper. The words on there leave me confused. "Fatal Hit-and-Run, Two Injured, One Dead. I... Two years ago? And this says one of the victims was... Gou?" Chimon stops what he's doing and becomes still. He doesn't say anything or even look at me, he just looks up from the notecards. "Along with two of his cousins. Did you know something about that?"

He gives a noncommittal noise, still not turning his head. "Why would an article like that be in Keiji's pocket?"

"I don't know. I'm gonna keep looking." Now with an eagerness I didn't have before, I seek out articles like that one. Shortly thereafter, I pull out another slip. "Devastating Fire at Donguri no Kōi Circus... This must have something to do with Azumi. It's dated back a lot longer than the first one. Damn. We were all little kids when this happened... It must've been traumatic for her. They don't even explain the cause, not really."

Chimon lets out a sigh. As I turn to see his expression, I come to realize that his hair, shoulder-length now as opposed to the chin-length it was when we arrived here, shades part of it. But I can see a sadness there, a powerful one. He locks eyes with me, and the sympathy shifts to curiosity. "Nothing, Yuu. Just feel weird, is all. If I'd known this about her only a few months ago, I wouldn't really be able to give much of a shit. Throughout my life, I've heard about a lot of people's traumas. For a lot of the patients I had, though, in that five-year period, I literally don't even remember what happened to who. It affected me that little."

"I'm... sorry. I know you don't want to talk about what caused it, but whatever happened to you must've been awful." He shrugs with an expression too tired and world-weary for a fifteen-year-old. Then, as though that never even happened, his eyes light up and he smiles; he's found another piece of his puzzle.

"Go back to looking through a dead guy's pants," he demands cheekily.

"You're so fucking irreverent, I swear," I snicker.

"Just trying to make it through the next few days without losing– ah, fuck."

"Without losing your mind," I fill in the blank.

"I could've been saying losing my shit," he defends himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chimon, January 9th, 9:34 am

I literally never want to look at a flashcard again. In the process of trying to find needles in a haystack, I've learned things I never wanted to know. Apparently, in 2014, McDonalds experimented with inventing bubble-gum flavored broccoli, Scots have 421 words for 'snow,' and big ol' spiders sometimes take tiny frogs as pets. Yuu has found sensitive information I was keeping a secret for Gou's sake, and other sensitive information of Azumi's that I didn't even have an inkling about.

Speaking of... he tucks a folded piece of paper into my hand wordlessly, avoiding my gaze. I unfurl it and read the headline: Esteemed Hypnotherapist Loses License in Shocking Lawsuit. My hand crushes it angrily before my brain even catches up to me. "Did you read this?" I ask. My voice sounds cold and hollow.

"I swear I didn't. I read the second word of the headline and stopped." I scrutinize his face, searching for any trace of insincerity. One of the most frustrating things about Yuu is that, since he's in a state of near-constant nerves, it's hard to tell when he's lying. But I can't go letting myself suspect him right now. If we're not a united front, we will die at this trial. So I nod passively.

Suddenly, though, my knees give out on me and I sink to the floor. I expected it, but my parents telling me how bad of a position they're in without me there feels a lot worse now. I wouldn't ever trade my capacity to care about people for anything in the world, but at least when I was empty, I knew exactly how to feel about the two of them. About Papa... Oh God, Papa could be drinking himself to death. "Are there any other clues?" I ask Yuu quietly.

"That was it. I've looked through every article of clothing now. Is– uh– You should take a break. I'll take over," he offers.

"I want to be useful," I deny.

"That was a demand, not a question. Uh. I do have to wash my hands first though. Concern for you and an oppressive need to clean off are the only thoughts in my head right now." He shakes his ungloved hand as though flicking off water droplets (more likely germs).

TRUTH BULLET: NEWS ARTICLES

He takes a few cautious steps toward the door, staring at me as though to make sure I don't disappear. "I'm not that fragile." He raises his eyebrows at me in surprise. "Oh, right. Nearly forgot I spent months pretending to be." I jokingly put on my heartbroken nine-year-old expression, effortlessly shedding false tears and getting dangerously close to crying real ones. He smiles and then rushes off.

I have to chase away a lot of harsh memories. Papa rarely drank when I was little, and it was always small amounts. After his accusations– which I genuinely do believe were false, no matter how much resentment I hold toward him– he started doing it more often. Mama would complain to me all worried about his health, but I was always just annoyed that he'd spend some of my hard-earned money on it. That was one of my initial thoughts when I got that letter, too. But now, along with mourning my dead friends, I'm mourning the admiration I used to have for him. He was my inspiration, and now he's just this fucking zombie, like a black hole swallowing and obliterating any kind of long-term happiness!

At the peak of this train of thought, everything stops. Huh. My parents' message. Monterio's lead was asking about the loved ones' messages. When and how... Why how??? How they were created should be obvious... they were handwritten. I trust Monterio, and he'd never give us a useless clue. Sure, he didn't technically give it to us, but even so, there has to be more to this. It's been nearly five minutes since Yuu left. I'm starting to get concerned. The second before I decide to go out and look for him, he slinks back in. "That's a long time to be washing your hands. You okay, bud?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine." He goes straight to sort out more flashcards.

"You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but what took so long?"

He pauses. "Alright. I'm only doing this because I don't want you to think I was up to anything sketchy. I didn't read that article, so you're not allowed to go talking about this to people. Azumi's the only person here who I've mentioned this to." I cross my heart so he can see it, and he shakily slips his gloves off. A few of his knuckles are bandaged, presumably bleeding from just how crazy dry they are. "This is stressing me out, so..." he mumbles. In an even harder to decipher voice, I barely make out, "...symptoms...bad today."

That's all I need to hear to get it. "I understand. Thanks for being brave enough to share. My lips are sealed."

He takes a deep breath as though trying to hype himself up for something as he continues to piece together the puzzle. His words come out then. "Are you feeling any better?"

I try to quickly check in on myself. "I don't think so, being honest. But I don't think I'll really feel better until I make it home. And in order to do that, I have to get my shit together. So don't worry about me. I'm ready to help us claw our way to victory." I step next to him to start helping.

"Ah-ah-ah, let me take care of this!" he urges.

I have to think about how to handle this right. "I get what you're trying to do. Thank you for it. But I promise, I'll feel best if I can help." He looks me head-to-toe real quick and then nods, so we get to work. Between the two of us, it's almost scarily efficient. It's streamlined; I examine the cards and work out whether it's needed or not, and he sorts them into piles and arranges the ones we want into a cohesive thing until we have a full picture.

"It's a map of the building? Or at least, it looks like it. But this doesn't take any of the secret passageways into account, and some things are off. Like, see the outdoor exercise area on floor 2? That's not here. Neither is the pub in the basement. Why are some things different?" he ponders.

TRUTH BULLET: INACCURATE BUILDING MAP

"Jeez. This is literally a never-ending yarn ball of mysteries. Feels like we're never going to make any real progress." The door bursts open and Azumi and Gou stand on the other side. Their eyes are wide in shock and Azumi is clutching at a journal with a grip so unsteady and weak that it's a miracle it hasn't leapt right out of her hand. Their breaths are shallow and it puts me on-guard. "What did you find?!"

"You must come with us! This is urgent! We may have found what WDR stands for!"