[A/N] Trigger warning natural disaster/homelessness in the first part, weight issues, weight-related insults, emetophobia, and brief discussion of disordered eating habits in the second (I bet you can guess whose fear that is). Unofficially, this could be called "Of Love and Hunger." Also, hey! One more part and then all of the Fear Scenarios will have a scene, either in this book or LDOD itself!

Chimon's Fear:

Gou

"Hibiki, I'm getting antsy. The more people die, the more likely I am to get busted. What happens if someone realizes I'm the Inheritor?"

"Let me handle that. You've been doing fine so far with my instruction. So it should be alright. But also remember that we have memory-related technology. I can always ~zap~ the realization bye-bye!"

I shudder. "Can you really localize it that much? I don't want you to accidentally erase anything else. A lot has happened in here, and they deserve to keep it all."

"You're so sentimental. It's adorable. In any case, you know you can trust me, right? I've never failed you before. Remember that time you had a beer at a party you weren't supposed to be at and then ran to my place cause you were scared your mom would find out?"

Right. He helped me cover up the smell with pungent snacks and gave me the excuse that I was hanging out with him. "Yeah. Yeah. Alright. What simulation do I have to do today?"

"Let's see. Hey, actually, you want to do the honors?" I snicker a little— worst honor I ever received— and spin the wheel. "One!"

Agh. Poor Chimon. This one sucks. Well. They all do. The pod closes, and my vision goes dark, and then clicks into place again. I am in my childhood home, doing my homework. Unlike most of the fears, where we start out already feeling fairly unpleasant, Chimon's starts with emptiness. Or maybe more like casual acceptance. I am in total status quo mode. Nothing is going wrong but it's not going particularly right, either. There's a heavy thunderstorm pounding on my roof and window. There was already a severe weather watch. Flash floods are annoying.

Except... my phone buzzes again. A tornado warning?! The hell?! I call out about it to my parents, who, thank God, are on the same page with me for once. I grab my bike helmet and put it on. Then I drag my mattress down into the basement— it's an ordeal, but we sadly don't have any heavy table that'll work down there. We all huddle down there and await the storm. It takes a while for it to reach us. But eventually, it does.

The emotions of the moment don't actually hit me until the fucking fridge falls down the weakened floor, crashing across the room from us. Holy shit. This is going to tear my entire fucking home apart. I need my home! It's the only—

I swallow. It's the only thing Chimon feels he has left of his happy childhood.

We weather the storm. My parents and I are unharmed, but the same can't be said of a single room in the house. The twister uprooted a tree, which is now lodged in what's left of my bedroom ceiling. Basically everything heavy fell out of the kitchen. The whole structure of our home is ruined, walls stripped bare to their beams and then damaged some more.

All of my stuff is gone. I get the feeling of futility, of waste. Wait. Wait! FUCK! We had to— we had to sell the homeowner's insurance in order to afford bills and the mortgage! Oh my God! We're not gonna get coverage for any of this! And— And it's not like I'm going to be able to race, so my income is about to dry up! My parents and I just stare at each other, horrified by the dawning revelation.

Time skips. We're in a homeless shelter. It's weird, and it's crowded, but it's something. I start to get used to it and decide I can survive. And then we get kicked out. Because my parents can't fucking behave. And then there's another. And the same thing happens. And by then, we've got a reputation, and other shelters don't want to take us. It's the dead of winter and now we have to be on the goddamn streets.

And it was a natural disaster. It was so fucking senseless.

It's so cold. I feel it seeping into my bones, and then instead I feel numb. My heaviest coat isn't even all that good, and we spend the first little sum we get from begging on a better one for me, but it feels like it hardly makes any difference. Food is scarce. I want to scream at my parents, to thrash and flail and tell them it's all their fault, all of it, but that would take up a lot of energy I don't have.

I just want my house back! I just want my room and the kitchen and even the freaking laundry room!

I think of things Chimon has told me about psychology. Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. Higher-order needs like belonging or purpose mean nothing when you don't feel safe. When you don't have sanctuary. Hell, the food and warmth thing means I stop being able to focus on anything but that. Nothing in my life is ever allowed to feel safe. I need to hug him again. He might think I'm weird, but he's seemed receptive to that lately.

I curl up and start to feel drowsy. Crap, that's a bad sign. Don't go to sleep yet tonight. This feels wrong. I... fall asleep.

When I'm out of the pod, I feel numb all over, little pinpricks of cold and exhaustion beating me over the head. I feel a little nauseous but ultimately, my stomach feels empty, like I haven't eaten in days. "This one always makes me feel so... weak."

"You can stay here as long as you need. Until I need to call someone else in. But like, hey, that's gotta count for something, huh, little fledgling? I love ya!"

My brain is just barely working enough to wonder if this is what love is supposed to look like. Caring for someone after putting them through something miserable. I think... possibly no? But maybe he's just pushing me out of my comfort zone. Yeah. That's it.

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

Tozen's Fear:

Azumi

I step into the simulator wordlessly. Today, I do not feel as though I have much spirit. In fact, you could describe me as flat-out melancholic, though of course I do not express it in front of the others. I simply wish for this part to conclude swiftly.

"What's up, you wretched little nightingale?"

"Pft. To think of myself as wretched is too self-indulgent. Even despondent is a bit overdramatic. The more I pity myself, the less effective I can be. It is important to see outside of oneself."

"I have a question for you, oh wise one." His derision startles me. Monokuma can get oddly serious during this process. I wonder why. "Do you think things ever really heal?"

"I— I am not sure. Perhaps some never do."

"And what do you do about those ones?"

I pause. "Hold them. And ponder them, like clothes in a drying machine. And maybe... learn from them."

"What are you gonna learn from that love triangle shitshow?"

"Who's to guarantee that this one won't heal? I believe in Ren and Tozen. So... so it must get better. No matter how long it takes."

"If you say so!" He shrugs and spins the wheel. "Wow. Eight."

"Oh..." Tozen's. I know because I have experienced it. More than once. I close my eyes.

Before I can even see a thing, I am awash in dissatisfaction and shame. I am in my bedroom and even though I'd already eaten a large portion of breakfast, I look over and see an empty bowl of ice cream on my nightstand. I stand up and plod over to my closet. On the way, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror— the extra weight is noticeable but I feel numb to it. I pull out my uniform and start getting dressed. And yet...

My heart plummets and pounds. Oh my God. It shouldn't take nearly this much effort to put on. I can't have— I already had to size up a month or so ago. Oh my God, oh my God. Cannot be numb to this, now, can you? I hear that thought with its bite of cruel sarcasm. I hear a knock on my door.

"Azumi! Are you almost ready for morning lessons?" One of my circus-siblings calls out. Since this is Tozen's fear, the question would really be asking about school, but as I am homeschooled, this is the result.

On an agitated whim, I shout out, "I-I feel unwell! You may head to lessons without me!" The idea of wearing such ill-fitting clothes in public, or else having to wear normal clothes and ask for yet another new uniform, utterly mortifies me. This is all my fault. I am a fool who lacks all semblance of self-control.

Time skips, like it often does in these simulations. I have not returned to lessons or practice in a handful of weeks. I have tried to keep on top of my class work from home, but I just... cannot allow myself to be seen by my peers.

However, as glad as I am to not be witnessed, it— it stings, stings, stings that none of them have even once texted to see if I am alright.

I have experienced this simulation before, but this is the first time since... since I confessed. And with newfound clarity, I recall his words. "I'm constantly working just to be cared about. Love is earned, not gifted, and because of that, it's flimsy." There's even further depth to the nightmare now. In his worst fear, all those friends who claimed to love him leave as soon as it's inconvenient. And so my heart is clutched with dread for the next portion.

Time skips once more, though only a few days. I peek my head into one of the common areas, and I find two of my younger family members. Fierce devotion. Responsibility. I feel these when I look at them. They speak at a natural volume, as if I am not even there. "I do not like having to admit that we are related. Having to go out of our way to defend her makes us look odd."

"I concur. She is a laughingstock, is she not? Imagine isolating yourself because you let yourself get fat and now you're too embarrassed to leave your quarters. What a lousy excuse for an older sister."

More of his words echo in my head. "Even my family just loves me because I'm family." Oh, Tozen. Your siblings would never do this to you. Skin clammy, ears ringing, I rush to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I stop to look.

I am repulsive. My face is repulsive, its roundness and the way I have a double chin. My arms are repulsive. My stomach makes me want to claw my eyes out, I want it to die, I WANT IT TO DIE!

The end of the scenario is drawing near, but I do not want to. I do not want to do this to him. Not again. The way it is meant to resolve is that he, panic-stricken, makes the irrevocable decision to purge. This is the story of a boy doomed over and over because he hates himself and cannot imagine anyone disagreeing.

But lo and behold: I disagree.

I stare down my own reflection, this thing that my instincts call abhorrent, and I say the words. "I love you." And it's me to Tozen, yes, but I will it into the fabric of the universe that somehow, he possibly understands. I want to give him the power to say it to himself, no matter how he may look in a month, a year, five years.

I have never felt more nauseous in my life. Like my stomach acid is burning through me. I think perhaps I am breaking the simulation, like I've heard others have done. Shouted insults blare like a siren. "Whale! Garbage Disposal! Lardass!" On and on and on.

I will not relent. I have to scream to hear myself over the vile hatred. "I love you, body. I love you! I do not want to change you because I hate you, I want to nurture you properly because I love you!"

I vomit blood into the sink.

And exit the simulation, stomach roiling in pain. I vomit into the bag that the Monoinu brought, and then promptly fall unconscious.

When I awaken, I am in the infirmary, and his golden eyes stare down at me. "Azumi! I'm so glad you're awake. Did you have your own fear today?" He hands me a water bottle, so I drink, and a tin of cashews, which I eat a few handfuls of.

"I love you."

His expression falls. "I-I'm sorry. I promise I'm still thinking about it. I won't make you wait forever."

"This isn't about that." He quirks his head, failing to understand. "I love you. In whatever ways you most need."

His face goes red and he covers his mouth with a hand. "Uh. Thanks. You have no idea how much I want to come up with an excuse to run away right now."

"But alas... you are choosing to stay. I'm grateful. And proud of you."

"Y-You've gotta stop this. You feed my ego too much."

"It, like you, deserves to be well-fed."