Chapter Text
The interviews are released on the Team Danganronpa website. Shuichi taps the notification the moment it pops up at 8 o’clock—they’ve been hinting that ‘something’s coming’ all day on their twitter page, and Shuichi’s been playing the Danganronpa game long enough (figuratively) to know exactly what it is.
As he thought. After Monokuma’s loading icon is gone from the screen, he’s met with a list of videos that are titled with the chosen students’ names. Leaning back in his chair, he clicks play all.
They’re nothing Shuichi hasn’t seen before. Most of the contestants that audition for Danganronpa are people filled with hatred, those who marvel at the idea of despair, of being the winner of a killing game. Most of them have a screw loose somewhere, too, and there’s definitely no correlation there at all (an inside fandom joke—fandom agrees that most people come out of Danganronpa saner than they’ve ever been). Sure, there are the few who do it purely for the money or the fame, but even then, they revel at the idea of being known for the most gruesome death or the bloodiest murder.
Those that fall into neither of the two categories are just boring.
Comments from the hundreds and thousands of other people watching the videos scroll across the screen. Shuichi finds himself watching the comments more than anything (typing a few himself from time to time) because honestly, these contestants seem pretty typical, if not more bloodthirsty than last year. Guy who wants to murder everyone, super emo who just wants to die, yawn, yawn, yawn.
At the tenth video, things change.
When the video first comes on, the majority of Shuichi’s attention is still on the comments scrolling by rapidly, mostly because he takes once glance and deems that this character isn’t anything new. The boy on the screen is timid and fidgety, and every Danganronpa has one of those: a contestant that’s transformed from their timid selves into someone brash and annoying on the actual show. Real original, Shuichi thinks, rolling his eyes. Even though he absolutely adores the show and its genius creators, they reuse tropes too much.
The comments roll in like a tidal wave. “Cute!!!!!” “A cinnamon roll <333” “He’s so smol omg” “PROTECT HI M” etc, etc. Someone has a lot of fans already. But that will change—no one really cares about the participants’ original personalities once the game begins.
Shuichi can see their point, though. The boy’s eyelashes flutter underneath wild purple bangs that obscure his face just enough to have that innocent effect, and his small stature combined with his overall nerves (that the boy tries to hide by wrangling his fingers together, ironically) capture the term ‘shrinking violet’ perfectly. He takes a quick glance at the video’s title (which he’d forgotten to do for a few of the other students, admittedly). ‘Kokichi Ouma,’ it says.
“U-um.” Kokichi’s voice trembles, even after he clears his throat a couple times over. “My name is Ouma Kokichi. And I want to be on Danganronpa because…” He hesitates. “Because I want friends.”
That unleashes a torrent of comments that fill up the screen completely. The usual adoring internet comments, gushing with fake adoration (“I’ll be your friend ‘Kichi!!” one reads. As if). Shuichi clicks them off, and leans a little bit closer to the screen.
Kokichi continues. “I-I may not look like it, but I think I’d be perfect for the killing game! I wouldn’t mind being one of the first ones to die, either! Not that I’m saying I want to be a martyr either, I… I just promise to make it interesting, I promise.”
Pleading and making promises doesn’t get a person far in the Danganronpa auditions. Usually. And when it does, Shuichi sighs and trusts that the Team knows what they’re doing. It doesn’t bother him too much, because they’ll be a different person by the start of the season—but it still bothers him.
But this time, Shuichi gets it. Because everything about Kokichi Ouma is a mystery. There’s always something they carry over from the old persona to the new, and for Kokichi, it will be this . And Shuichi can tell it’s effortless for Kokichi, because nobody—even someone who’s faking it—would say they want to be on Danganronpa to get friends . As for the promise? It’s desperate. Not the desperate as in ‘I want to be in this reality tv show’ but more like ‘I promise to not let you down.’
And that’s fascinating. The last six interviews pass in a blur, and Shuichi is almost glad when the last one ends so he can go back to Kokichi’s video. He watches and re-watches the video, trying to find even a hint of something that says he’s going off a script, but there’s nothing. Just Kokichi’s large doe eyes, shining with earnest as he promises he’ll make it interesting. Shuichi is definitely interested.
He searches the internet for any signs of Kokichi’s name. Social media accounts, news, friends, family, nothing. He’s ready to go to sleep out of pure frustration (it’s 12, when did this become so important to him) when a notification on his phone buzzes.
@TeamDR tweeted: Enjoy the show? Learn more about the 53rd class of #Danganronpa here!
The profiles are actually kind of useless. The names are there, but the cast portraits are hidden by question marks along with all of their personal information: likes, dislikes, birthdays, etc. Shuichi figures they’re saving it for when the killing game personas are revealed; they’ve had personal info pages like this in the past, but never before the game actually began. He considers it a stroke of good luck, even more so when he sees that each student’s current high school is listed, along with the logo.
“Imperial Capital’s Imperial High School,” it reads below the faceless portrait of Kokichi Ouma. It takes a quick search to learn that the high school is only a couple of subway stations away from his house.
Perfect.