Archive of Our Own ^beta

dawn had appeared on the horizon, met with a gentle breeze and the lapping of waves against the shore. animals scurried against the sand, hiding amongst seashells and trees. every island took a second to wake up. buildings began screaming while others gently opened their eyes, smiling at the inhabitants. it was almost six am, and almost everyone has gathered in the dining hall, apart from one. she was seldom late, as she was the one keeping everyone on task. but they all had their rough days, so they simply presumed this was hers, and let her be.

she was in her cottage when she noticed her friends moving towards the dining hall. some looked exhausted while some looked alive. she smiled as she watched their footsteps make an imprint in the sand, there to remain for a few days until rainfall. when she made sure she saw every person pass, she directed her attention to her mirror, meeting the eyes of her reflection. 

her eyes were resemblant of crystals on a chandelier. they were beautiful and pristine but they looked so empty when they weren’t lit up. her hair hung around her face, light blonde and elegant, although slightly dishevelled in the morning. her skin was perfectly clear, no matter how much makeup had been applied. and finally, she smiled brightly, but her smile was the only thing she knew was fake. it’s been too long since she smiled carelessly: ever since she escaped the neo world program, it felt foreign.

she averted her eyes from herself, picking out a plain dress from her wardrobe and slipping it on. her fingers twitched towards the tiara she kept stored, but restrained herself for her own sanity. deep inside, she knew she was a princess, and that was one of her struggles. ever since she was a little girl, she was told that princesses couldn’t cry when they had their entire kingdom watching. her friend, hajime, had reassured her that this wasn’t the case at all. she should be allowed to express her emotions freely. 

despite his words, she only showed her tears to somebody once. surprisingly, it was the last person she had expected to cry to: kazuichi. he didn’t hug her (both of them resolved that physical contact should be kept to a minimum), but he reassured her. he was kind and supportive, and she felt guilty for not expecting that of him. even though he had a past--one that seeps into the present-- of liking her, he had stopped acting on his desires, and if anything she was the immature one for judging him. she would like to pretend that was the reason that she stopped expressing how she felt in public, but she knew that wasn’t the case. she was a princess, and princesses never cried when they had others to support.

she closed the wardrobe, and her hands automatically went to her mascara and lipstick, but she stopped herself. she stood there for a moment, unsure why she had prevented herself from applying her gentle armor. she looked fine without makeup, of course, and she didn’t wear it as a form of art. it was just… a constant, and for some reason she was okay not having that. she pressed her lips together, making up her mind and storing the items away. 

back to business.

she opened her door, feeling the ungodly heat touch her skin. it was unfamiliar-- novoselic was so cold-- but she was slowly adjusting to the tropical air. her boots made a clicking noise as she stepped onto the path, following the cobblestone towards the dining hall, where her friends would be. some of her friends, at the least. she could never stop herself from remembering those comatose, like hiyoko, gundham, and-

and chiaki.

but she wasn’t in a coma. chiaki was gone.

she squeezed her eyes shut as the memories of someone she would consider a best friend flooded back in her head. she remembered the times where chiaki taught her how to use her playstation, where she would hug chiaki after she said something especially motivating, all of those precious memories during their time at hope’s peak. she remembered how anxiously she had defended chiaki when she was accused as the traitor, and she remembered how she and the others watched as chiaki was tortured to death.

her fingernails dug into her hand, snapping her back into reality long enough for her to start walking again. every step lead to a different memory, expanding from just chiaki to all of her friends, awake or not. 

taking photos with mahiru on the beach.

mahiru taking photos of her massacring her kingdom.

learning dances with hiyoko.

seeing hiyoko’s dead body.

listening to mikan ramble endearingly.

watching mikan break down into despair, admitting she was the killer.

her hand tightened on the door handle as she stepped into the dining hall. akane noticed her first, greeting her despite having a mouth full of food. fuyuhiko and kazuichi were seemingly discussing something (probably the latter’s new machinery), but kazuichi’s eyes lit up when he saw her while fuyuhiko nodded in acknowledgment. she took a breath and opened her mouth to say something to them, but she noticed hajime stepping out of the kitchen, offering her a warm smile. clipped to the bottom of his uniform was a certain clip that she remembered seeing in the ultimate gamer’s hair…

sonia nevermind didn’t know what to say; every possible word and lie dissolved on her lips. and so the ultimate princess fell to her knees and sobbed, tears hitting the ground like tetris blocks and her eyes turning as red as blood.