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Mister Monokuma's Medicinal Murdergame

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Nami was used to waking up in hospital beds.

She wasn’t quite sure why she was used to that, though. Some part of her had the vague feeling that it had to do with being injured, but maybe that was only because she didn't feel especially sickly. She definitely never worked in one. Nami Kaguya wasn’t sure of much of anything else at the moment she woke up in this particular hospital bed. She knew her own name, and she knew a lot of general things, but she wasn’t sure how old she was or what she did with her life. Didn’t she have a hobby, or some sort of job? Those aspects of herself were thoroughly absent. She hadn't lost things like the state of the world she lived in, or how to make toast, or any commonplace thing that regular people ought to know. This amnesia seemed astoundingly targeted. She could remember being sixteen... Maybe seventeen, but her own body didn't reflect the way she remembered it at that age, so she must have been older. By how much?

She looked around the hospital, sitting up in the bed. She wasn’t in a hospital gown, and there weren’t any needles stuck into her. There were no machines around the bed when she pulled the curtain back, and there was a silence throughout. Hospitals weren’t quiet, Nami knew that much. Hospitals were places which bustled with activity but somehow never felt alive.

This one was empty. So, was it really a hospital? She climbed out of the hospital bed, getting to her feet, and tucked the hair hanging against one cheek back behind her ear as she glanced around some more. Then, she reconsidered, and untucked it after all. Something told her she looked better that way. Where were the nurses, the machines, anything to indicate that this was a true medical facility? Absent, and without it, the illusion fell away.

Nami realized there really wasn’t anything for her here in this room. It was astonishingly devoid of anything of any interest. Just two beds with curtains, the other one already emptied. No cabinets. Nothing. There weren’t any windows, just a door against one wall. Empty. To somebody else, it might be unsettling. Nami just thought it awful boring. Maybe she was in shock, or maybe she saw worse on a day-to-day basis. Who was she to know?

Somehow, though, she realized she shouldn’t go out that singular door just yet. Instead, she turned back to the other bed, the one that she hadn’t woken up in, and reached out, placing her palm against the paper-thin sheets. There was an inherent warmth; And that, Nami realized, was what she'd been checking for. Some part of her stomach lurched to know that somebody else had woken up in this room before she did. She felt like maybe, they hadn’t even investigated her bed, but she couldn’t be sure of that.

Frightening as the thought was, she was certain she’d be able to tell if anything had been done to her in her sleep, and at the very least there weren’t any signs of that. Even so, just being watched while unconscious was something that she couldn’t bring herself to be all too okay with. Being stared at by somebody while in a state where she couldn't regulate every bit of her own posture, appearance, make small changes to appear less disgusting than she felt? She was not fond of that at all.

With this information, there truly wasn’t anything left for her to do in this room. It seemed like the sort of room thats existence was only ever intended to be left behind, so Nami made her way to that singular door.

Now, she thought, it would be a real dick move to put her in this room that was clearly only meant to be exited, then lock her in. She glanced at the hinges and saw that it was a push door, another strange thing to have in a hospital, and turned the handle, pushing against it. The door moved, but not… Enough.

It wasn’t locked, that much was clear, but rather, it was blocked from the other side. That wasn’t good. Nami could only imagine that whoever else woke up in this room looked at her, thought she might be dangerous, and decided to barricade her in. She glanced down at her own hands. She didn’t think she looked dangerous, but if she did, that was somehow satisfying. At least, if they thought she was a dangerous woman, it would be satisfying. Except for the fact that it had led someone to barricade her inside an incredibly empty room. And the fact that it was salaciously optimistic of her to even give herself thought that the barricade had that nature, rather than the nature of whoever woke up assuming that she was a perverted freak who never should be allowed near anybody in society and-

Nami cut off her thoughts and slammed her weight against the door, hand still turning the handle. The stuff on the other side budged enough for her to see down the hallway, but not enough to slip through, and she could tell by the way that the door had stopped short that the debris was fully between the door and the wall on the other side of the hallway, completely blocking any chance of getting it open from the inside. The person who blocked her in knew what they were doing. Nami groaned, rolling her eyes before making a half-hearted cry out into the hallway, not coming across as very loud or frightened, “Hey, can anybody help me? Don't really wanna die? Anyone?”

With a cry for help like that, it wasn’t surprising when nobody showed up. Well, nobody came down the hallway, but someone did appear with a strange suddenness, right in front of Nami. She pulled back from the crack in the door to see the smiling redhead greet her. “Ah, hello there! My, seems you’ve gotten yourself into a bit of a pickle. Why don’t I help you out? I’ll just move all these cabinets out of the way…”

With that, the girl stepped aside to throw her weight against the cabinets, only for them to very obviously not move at all. Nami spoke again, “Cabinets, huh? I guess you’re not really strong enough to move them… Means whoever trapped me in here must be on the stronger side, I guess. Did they really think they couldn't take me in a fight, if they could do shit like this?”

“Sorry…” The girl sighed as she stepped back to the crack in the door. “Well, I can try to find somebody to help. What’s your name? Mine’s Box. Box Hako. I’m the Ultimate… Uh, technically I’m the Ultimate Person Who Helps Other People Through No Particular Talent, but that gets shortened to Ultimate Volunteer!”

“That's a weird talent. Volunteer? Almost as weird as Ultimate Buddy. I’m Nami Kaguya,” Nami introduced herself in return.

“Oh, I've met him! So, Nami Kaguya, The Ultimate…?” Box prompted.

“Fuck if I know,” Nami said, “Might not even be an Ultimate? Tee-bee-h? I don’t remember having a talent.”

“Well, I think everyone here is an Ultimate,” Box said, “So you’re probably the Ultimate Question-marks! I think that can happen sometimes… Yeah, it does, sometimes! Somebody had to be, so don't beat yourself up for it! Okay then, I’m going to go find somebody strong who can help me push these things and get you out of there!”

With that, Box ran off, and Nami was left in the room again. That girl was… Strange. It did stand out to Nami that she seemed to appear from out of nowhere, but maybe she just hadn't been paying enough attention. Box Hako... A weird name, and a weird talent. She couldn't complain about being rescued, though. The Ultimate Question Marks... That matched up with the amnesia she was having, so she'd take Box's word on that one, unless there was somebody else also missing a talent in this place. An Ultimate, though. Ultimates. Nami hadn't realized how strange the situation was in the moment, but the fact that Box introduced herself with the talent... Well, maybe it wasn't. Maybe she was wrong, and Box Hako just adhered to her talent so much that she also required of herself the 'volunteering of information'.

It didn't have to be what Nami dreaded it could be. It didn't have to.

It probably was, though. Huh. She just shrugged her shoulders and talked to herself, "Guess I'll die?"

It helped a little bit.