[A/N] I have no reason for writing these in whatever order. I'm just kind of writing whichever fears I want to do rn. Each part will contain two fears, so therefore, there will be six parts of these. Spoilers for up to Chapter 5 of LDOD.

Haruto's Fear:

Azumi:

"Gooooooood morning, Azumi! Are you ready to face yet another fear? You're so brave and steady, this shouldn't phase you at all! Riiiiiiight?"

"Monokuma, your taunting shall not ruffle my feathers. Whether the simulation frightens me or not is frankly none of your concern," I respond cooly, maintaining the cadence of my tone and the rhythm of my breath.

"Ha! Cute! Lady, everything and everyone in here is my concern!"

I huff impatiently. "Cease the idle blathering. Begin the simulation."

"I would say that you're not the boss of me... honestly, I'd call myself YOUR boss... but our interests align in this case, so I may as well!" Whilst he rants, he spins the wheel. It lands on number two.

The absolute gall to call himself my superior! Before my frustration can fade, the pod shuts around me and I am thrown into someone's deepest fear.

The house I wind up in is disastrous. Unlaundered clothes are strewn about in a disorderly manner. Post it notes are tossed about, clearly meant to help me remember things but somewhat failing at their job. The waste bin is empty— thankfully, I scrounged up the motivation to dispose of its contents today. Yet, I remember with a brief pang of alarm that I completely forgot to clean out the refrigerator. Things will begin to seriously rot if I do not attend to that soon. This is Bisque's. I know him too well to suspect otherwise.

Before I can take up any cleaning, my stomach beckons. It has been something akin to seven hours since I have eaten anything? It is time to make dinner. I begin to chop vegetables and prepare oil for tempura. Once again, I note that the sink is beginning to overflow with dishes, but I have what I need, so I ignore this. In my distraction, I accidentally slice a knuckle with the vegetable knife, gasping in pain before cussing softly. I rush to disinfect the wound and haphazardly dress it with gauze and medical tape. I'm so stupid. This always happens to me. Once this is properly addressed, I make the batter for the vegetables, scrutinizing every single direction to assure that I do not fumble. Once this is done, I throw the coated vegetables into the frying pan and begin to gaze at them from a distance.

The phone rings. I swiftly rush to catch it. It is my ringleader. "Azumi! I've a business proposition for you!"

"Err, yes, sir?"

"We would like you to choreograph and star in a massive performance for the next few weeks! The entire team is at your disposal, and, of course, a higher percentage of our proceeds than usual will be allotted for you. Your creativity always astounds us." I understand instantaneously that this is likely a stand-in for a pottery exhibit or something of the like.

I hastily glance at my calendar. I really do have next to no time to spare for this, but the opportunity is immense. "Th-Thank you for bestowing such an honor upon me! I gladly accept! Please send me any information regarding deadlines or particular specifications!" I scribble down this project in my calendar along with all of the rest of my workload and classes.

"Perfect, I'll keep in tou—" The smoke detector blares.

"Excuse me!" I immediately hang up and rush to the kitchen. In my haste, I forgot to turn off the heat, and now the vegetables are burning! I throw a cup of water on it, only fueling it further.

Oh my God, oh my God, I am absolutely hopeless, I KNOW that water impacts grease fires this way! I— What am I supposed to do?!

I flee the house, sprinting and praying I do not trip. I immediately call emergency services and then Chuya. She picks up immediately.

"Salutations, darling! How are you? I hope that living alone is proving ever so fruitful and confidence-inspiring!"

"The house is on fire! It is all my fault!" I begin to cry into the receiver, feeling such immense guilt. My parents will never be able to stop worrying about me! They will never find peace of mind! I will never be competent enough to survive on my own! How could I allow this to happen?!

The house roars as flames lick at its foundation. Every part of me is screaming at this moment. The part of me that is Haruto is terrified. The part of me that is myself— that understands this is not real— is hardly sustaining itself. Fire. I myself already despise fire.

My brain snaps to the next anxiety. Do I even have enough in savings to replace my damaged equipment?! Or must my parents once again overextend themselves to take care of me?!

The pod bursts open. I hyperventilate and shudder, tears filling my eyes. I practically fall out of the chair, so overwhelmed that the typical nausea from these simulations feels like mere background static. "It's all my fault," I repeat breathlessly, pawing slightly at the ground. Breathe, Azumi. You must control your breaths.

I number the moments. In. Out. The world stops swirling gradually. I rise to my feet, forcing myself to stand erect. "Did you have fun?" Monokuma drawls.

I refuse to hand over my dignity. "I will be here promptly tomorrow. Farewell." I depart from there and head toward my room to wash my face. A lingering worry settles over me— if this is how I respond to a fear that is not my own, how will I react once it truly is my turn?

All will be well. I regret not believing that anymore, but I repeat it anyway. Whilst I do, I splash water on my face, and the starkly cold temperature brings my awareness back to the present. It's not real. I am fine. Once I've entirely regained my composure, I summon the rest of my teammates. We do know the owner of at least one more simulation. Number two belongs to Haruto Gima, my dear friend whom I will always mourn.

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

Nari's Fear:

Fujiko

I sit down in the chair, smoothing my dress out and sighing. "Hiya, Fujiko! Our fragile little flower! I'm impressed you still show up on time! I figured by now, I'd need to start dragging you in here myself. Or make the Monoinu do it."

For a tiny moment, I suck in breath through my teeth. It's not nice of him to remind me of our sweet little Monoinu who died. But I don't have to pay attention to that. I can ignore it and focus on the rest. "I'm not fragile. You're right about me being a flower, though! I'm pretty, I smell good, and I'm totally gorgeous in sunlight!" I touch my jeweled hair clip and run a hand through my silky hair— I already thought my hair was cute, but following Yuu's routine is actually helping!

He snorts. "Not fragile? Ducky, I can see everything. I know that every time you finish one of these, you go to your room and cry."

"Honey, it's called having empathy. You should, like, totes give it a try! It'd probs be good for your fur or something."

"I'm not a Care Bear. I'm a Despair Bear!"

"Wait, can we get a Care Bear in here?! I want Sweet Sakura Bear way more than I want you!"

"Too bad." He spins the wheel. It whirls around until it lands on number nine. Which one is that again? I know that someone already figured out who it belongs to.

While I try to puzzle this out, I find myself on a stage, with a couple other people dramatically performing lines. It seems intense, like a fight, but I can hardly hear what they're saying because my ears are ringing. The crowd is massive. It's swarming. People are blocking the doors. This would be a safety code violation even if it wasn't totes mortifying! I'm wearing such a heavy costume, too! It's so frilly and hot and colorful! And yet somehow it also feels tight, like my ribs are gonna get crushed! I can't breathe! Oop. Nari's nightmare.

Suddenly, silence. The moment seems to last forever, and the other actors— one of them is my brother, who's obviously waaaaaaay better at this crap than me— start to stare, waiting on my line. I— My head feels like it's full of clouds. My feet feel like ice is encasing them, gluing me to the spot. Everything, all those lines they made me drill into my head for hours, just totally disappeared! Oooooh, I can relate to that. Booooo, tests. Idly, I wonder whether my own fear might include tests. Mmm, nah. It's probs gonna involve me being alone and loveless.

After totes zoning out, I snap back into the situation. I've now been standing here looking like a complete idiot in front of hundreds of people for like half a minute. "I— Your quarrel— Your—" Every time I think I have a line, it slips out of my fingers like a bar of soap.

I flash my parents a panicked expression; they're right there in the front row, beaming at me with stupid pride and wearing the stupid, embarrassing theater merch! They just wave and smile at me like I'm not totally drowning up here! Someone snickers in the audience. There are a couple cruel whispers. GET ME OUT OF THIS PLACE!

I test my legs, swaying an itty bit. I pick up each foot; they feel heavy, but at least my feet aren't icy anymore. Knowing this... even knowing how dumb this is... I book it. I run down the steps of the stage and dash to try and make it through the crowd. Bodies rub against mine, warm and sturdy and uncomfy. People aren't moving for me; honestly, it's more like they're shoving to keep me in place. The spotlight swivels over to me. It blares at me like some stupid artificial sun and the sheen makes my eyes hurt. I'm sweating. The antsy crowd literally blocks me so much that I wind up collapsed on the floor, mere feet from the door, and they're so noisy and everyone is looking at me and everyone is laughing and is it so much to ask for nobody to look at me?!

My mom shoves through the crowd over to me. I reach out my hand, begging her for help, and she instead lip-syncs my lines to me! "I'm not going back up there, Mom!" I scream.

Her expression grows cold. Now, in addition to the laughing, people are starting to get angry. Scolding me. Demanding a refund. I curl up on the ground in a ball.

And when I open my eyes, I'm back in the real world, back in the present. My body still feels a smidge of pain cause I got kinda banged up in there, and I snatch up the barf bag, real scared that I'm gonna puke. I gag a couple times before managing to calm down enough to get control of my stomach.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine," I repeat on loop, stumbling out of the chair woozily. I hate that I can feel the pinpricking in my eyes. I'm not even scared anymore! Nari's fear is, like, one of the furthest things from being scary to me, so why am I still about to cry?

I know. It's cause she probably felt like that kind of constantly. I love attention, but now, I can understand the clawing, unnatural feeling she got, like she couldn't be free in her own skin if someone was judging her. And to know that her own parents were constantly trying to push her into accepting this— that they treated her like a disappointment every time she refused— it just sucks so bad!

"Y-Y'know what, Monokuma?"

"What's up, chickadee?"

"I don't have to hide my tears from anyone, even if I look mega-ugly while doing it! People say we shouldn't give bullies the satisfaction, but I don't care! I'm gonna sit here and bawl my eyes out, because I have NOTHING to be ashamed of! If you can't handle it, you can gladly leave until it's the next person's turn to do this!"

His smile seems to grow. I have no idea what he's feeling, but I won't back down!