Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hope’s Peak academy. Just as the name would suggest, it’s the peak of hope for the future. Everyone who gets in goes on to be something amazing. If you get in and manage to graduate, you’re set for life, everywhere will want you, no matter where you go in the world.

In order to get into Hope’s Peak, you have to be the best of the best at what you do. Unlike other schools in the area, there is no entrance exam for the academy, and the only way to get accepted is if the school’s officials scout you themselves.

Due to Hope’s Peak students being the absolute best, they’ve gained themselves the title of “ultimates”. Ever since I was a child, I’ve wanted to attend the school, much like pretty much everyone all across the world.

My name is Atsushi Nakajima; my talent, you may be wondering? I don’t have one. I’m the most average student in the history of average students. Hell, you may even be able to call me the ultimate nobody. Every year, the school randomly picks an ‘Ultimate Lucky Student’; can luck even be considered a ‘talent’?

Anyway, I am this year’s lucky winner, which is what led to me standing where I am, facing the school towering over me. The sun beating heavily on my back; the nervous excitement buzzing in my stomach; the alerts of ‘danger!’ ringing through my head, as they did with most new experiences.

With a deep breath, I took my first step onto campus grounds; the first step towards a new life, a new beginning. No longer would I be burdened by my past, and no longer would I have to endure-

Black splotches clouded my vision, and I felt my head grow faint, my mind foggy. My thoughts were drowned out by an intense ringing in my ears.

And that's the last thing I remember before I passed out.

—----

When I awoke, I was sitting in a chair in an empty classroom. My body felt heavy, and dread pooled in my gut. I looked around, almost immediately noticing 2 key things. I noticed that the windows were boarded, and that there was a camera mounted on the wall that seemed to bore right through me.

I blinked sluggishly as I looked around the classroom, my brain still felt fogged from earlier, and I was unable to recall exactly how I ended up inside the school.. Perhaps I was carried? Or maybe I just walked here and blanked out too much to realize.

My gaze trails along the walls, pausing on a few weird quirks of the classroom before finally reaching the chalkboard. Sprawled out in the worst handwriting I’ve ever seen are the words “check in your desk”. Curious, I shove my hand into my desk and feel around for something, whatever it was the person who wrote the message wanted me to find. What do you know, but after a few seconds of feeling around, I felt a bump on the bottom of the cavity and grabbed it; a pamphlet, maybe?

Apparently, I was right on the money, because when I pulled it out, it was a small leaflet with the school logo on it and “Atsushi Nakajima” written on the front in big, bold letters. Okay, a bit weird that whoever wrote this knew his name, but it’s whatever; this is probably just how the school does orientation.

I opened the pamphlet, and my gaze moved down to read it.

“Atsushi Nakajima,

Welcome to Hope’s Peak academy, and congratulations on your acceptance as this year’s ultimate lucky student. Please head to the gymnasium as soon as this finds you for the orientation. We expect you there by 9:00 AM, and we don’t take well to tardiness.

Kindest regards,
Your headmaster.”

The gymnasium, huh? Where, exactly, is that? I turn over the leaflet in hopes there will be a map on the back, guiding me to where I need to go. Unfortunately, I have no such luck. Ultimate lucky student, my ass. I sigh, finally standing up from the desk I had woken up at.

Taking a step towards the door, I exhaled slowly. This was no big deal, it was only the single most important moment of my highschool career at the academy. It wasn’t like this would matter much in the end(It would, I needed to examine each and every student and create as many bonds as I possibly could in the first few days. Networking was key, after all.)

I twist the knob and push open the door cautiously, careful as to not damage anything whatsoever, though I’d be shocked if anything— especially the doors— in the school was so flimsy it could be damaged by only a little strength.

The hallways were wide and grand, beautiful was an understatement. The walkway was one of the fanciest pieces of architecture I had ever seen; I couldn’t even imagine what the other parts of the school looked like, the ones that were fancy for this school’s standards.

I take a step into the hallway and turn right, hoping that it’s the correct way. I notice a red carpet that only heads in one way, twisting and turning through the seemingly endless hallways. I follow it, almost blindly, it leads me far away from my initial room, and I can only hope it leads me in the right direction.

The carpet stops in front of a door far grander than any I’ve faced before. It’d make a lot of sense for this to be the gymnasium, given how important the frame looked compared to those around it.

Sucking in a breath, I push open the fancy, wine red door, and I’m greeted with the sight of a… surprisingly average looking gym room. The floors are the same cheap wood used at the public school I’d always gone to, and the bleachers look just as unkempt as the ones I remember, as well.

Ignoring the fore and background, there are 17 people scattered haphazardly around the space. Some I recognize faintly from the very brief research I had done the night before arriving at the school, and some that were completely new to me.

While some of them looked my age, there were multiple that I could mistake for full grown adults, but that simply couldn’t be, they must just be very mature looking teenagers.

“You’re late.” A man with light, faded green hair said blandly, and it sent shivers down my spine. He was so intimidating, yet he seemed like he had no intention of being so. “You were required to be here at 9:00 AM sharp,” He instructed; I swallowed thickly, preparing for the scolding that was sure to come. “It is 9:01. Please, try to be on time next time.” He shrugged, and I can’t help the way my eyes widened with shock and my mouth fell slightly agape.

My face must be contorted into something ugly because he gives me this confused, slightly offended look. “Are you.. Okay?” He asks me, and as I rush to reply, another boy beats me to it.

“He’s fine! Just thought ya’ were scary, is all!” A boy with short, messy black hair pipes up. His eyes are clamped shut and a lollipop sticks out of his mouth.

The taller man seems to understand, because he nods and turns back to me. “Thank you, Ranpo. I apologize for frightening you,” He says to me, a small smile curving at the edges of his lips.

“My name’s Kunikida Doppo,” He says, and I recognize the name. I read on the forums that he’s the Ultimate Manager, whatever that's supposed to mean. “You should go talk to the others before the headmaster arrives for the orientation, he’ll be here at 9:15, supposedly.”

“... Atsushi Nakajima.” I say quietly, still rather intimidated by the tall man. “Will do, Kunikida-san!”

I look around at my fellow classmates, and I am once again struck with awe. There’s something so different about receiving the letter of acceptance from Hope’s Peak, and truly being around the ultimates that view you as an equal.

My eyes dart around the room as I try to evaluate who seems the most approachable. Maybe the guy who somehow knew how intimidated I was, or perhaps the two oldest-looking men?

Before I get to make my choice, a delicate finger taps my shoulder and I nearly jump out of my skin. As I turn to face the person behind the scare, a gentle laugh resounds from him. He has chocolate brown hair and a kind face, but a certain emptiness in his eyes that no man— let alone a teen— should have. He is accompanied by a ginger boy with a much meaner look, kind of like a chihuahua.

The brunette’s eyes crease as his smile widens slightly, mildly frighteningly. “Sorry, did we scare you?”

Chapter Text

“I’m sorry, did we scare you?” The man asks him with the same, kind look as before. Somehow, this man simultaneously gives off the energy of ‘you can trust me’ as well as ‘stay away!”. People who could do that frightened Atsushi more than just the terrifying ones.

Realizing he’d just kind of been staring blankly at the duo, he rushed to respond. “Oh! Uhm- N-No, you didn’t! No need to worry, I’m great!” The slight tremble to his voice gave away that he wasn’t actually as nonchalant as he tried(and failed) to pretend to be.

Luckily for him, the man didn’t seem to mind this all too much, only smiling wider; which in turn, caused the ginger at his side to frown deeply and curl into himself, shaking with anger. Just what did this man have to do to cause someone to be that pissed at them?

“My name is Osamu Dazai,” The man— Dazai— says, holding out his hand for Atsushi to shake. He takes it easily, and is surprised by just how intense his grip is; geez, what did they put in this guy’s food?

The ginger piped up from where he was silently seething beside him. “They call him the Ultimate Strategist, but I prefer ‘Ultimate pain in my ass’.” He scowled, to which Dazai only laughed and ruffled his hair.

“You wound me, Chibi,” Dazai says with a not at all wounded expression. Chibi? Is that… his name? Surely it couldn’t be, no parent hated their child enough to name them after… whatever you could consider ‘chibi’ to be.

“Oh, uhm. Atsushi Nakajima, pleasure to meet you, Dazai-san and…” He trails off, hoping the man would fill in with his name.

“Chuuya. Chuuya Nakahara.” He nodded, the furrow of his brow easing up slightly, but he kept his heated glare fixated on Dazai’s form. Atsushi was sure he would’ve withered under such a gaze, but to his surprise, the brunette only seemed to shine brighter.

Almost absently, Atsushi let out a sigh of relief upon learning that Chuuya wasn’t actually named chibi; he wasn’t sure he’d be able to control his laughter if he was. He didn’t notice the way Chuuya’s brow lifted questioningly.

“Welp,” says Dazai, to which both of the other boys turn to look at him. “We’re all friends now, so, Atsushi, consider us your personal helpers—”

“— Hey what the hell? I didn’t agree to this shit!—” Chuuya barked.

“—So, if you need anything, feel free to just ask us!” Dazai continued, not even pausing to consider what Chuuya had said. Atsushi appreciated the sentiment, but made a mental note to only really ask Dazai; the ginger intimidated him, anyway.

“Thank you, Dazai-san,” Atsushi said sincerely, smiling gently. “If it’s alright, I have one, small inquiry for you.”

“Inquiry?” He snorted, smiling easily. “But, sure, what is it?”

Atsushi’s face flushed red with embarrassment. “S-Sorry!” He pursed his lips, before continuing with his question. “Do you… remember how we got here?” He asks hesitantly.

“Shouldn’t that be obvious? Of course I don’t! None of us do!” He laughed, almost unnerving with how calm he was in such a serious situation.

“None of us?” Atsushi parroted, tilting his head curiously.

“The rest of us already did introductions, and I made sure to ask them all the same thing, none of us remember how the hell we ended up here,” Chuuya explained, seeming more on edge than Dazai had; Atsushi appreciated knowing he wasn’t the only one freaked out by this whole thing.

“So we basically all have amnesia!” Dazai grinned brightly, almost as if he was enjoying their current predicament.

“H-Hold up, amnesia’s a stretch, it has to be. There’s no way he can all have amnesia, r-right? That’s way too abnormal, even for—” Atsushi was cut off by the brunette.

And then, as if a switch had flipped in his brain, a look of pure, unfettered malice graced Dazai’s features. “Well then, I guess we’re all in a pretty abnormal situation, wouldn’t you say?”

Atsushi swallowed thickly, nodding hesitantly. To his surprise, Chuuya only looked tired of Dazai’s shit. “Don;t worry about him, kid. He just doesn’t enjoy being told he’s wrong, so he likes to frighten people into agreeing with him, no matter how bogus his ideas are.”

Atsushi chose to ignore how Chuuya had just said bogus unironically, for his own sake.

“Chuuuyaaaa, why’d you have to ruin my fun? Now he’ll never take me seriously,” Dazai whined, the creepy look dissipating from his face.

“We don’t have amnesia, we’re all just dazed. We’ll remember eventually, don’t give it too much thought.” Chuuya reassured, and Atsushi felt more than inclined to believe him.

Then, the handbook in Atsushi’s pocket ‘ding’ed; how the hell did he not notice there was something in his pocket? Chuuya and Dazai’s handbooks dinged as well, and they both simultaneously took them out of their pockets and looked at them.

Assuming he should do the same, he dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a fancy tablet. The words ‘E-Handbook; Welcome Atsushi!’ flashed on the screen, before a list of tabs appeared. There was a red exclamation mark on the ‘classmates’ tab, so he subconsciously clicked on it.

There were 18 sprites, and he could easily attach them to the classmates in the room with him. Four of the sprites were lit up, the ones for Dazai, Kunikida, Chuuya, and himself. There was basic information on all of them— such as height, birthdays, and hair colors—, but most of the boxes had question marks, maybe they’d be filled in later?

Closing the handbook, he shoved it back into his pocket and pursed his lips; Chuuya and Dazai soon did the same. Dazai pursed his lips for a moment, expression darkening, before he quickly returned to his staple look of ease.

“Welp, that’s shrimp and I’s handbooks full!” Dazai grinned, giving a thumbs up. “For you, I know Kunikida-kun already told you this, but I recommend introducing yourself to the others before the headmaster arrives.” He advised, shrugging his shoulders uncaringly.

“A-Alright,” Atsushi nodded eagerly, giving a weak grin. “But, who should I talk to? I don’t…” He trailed off, frowning confusedly.

“Well, I think you should try to talk to everyone,” Dazai nodded surely. “But, if I were you, I’d talk to Kyouka and Kenji first, and save Akutagawa for last.” He hummed, patting Atsushi’s shoulder.

Atsushi sighed, rubbing his hand on the nape of his neck. “Right… And who are those again?”

Dazai gave him a thoughtful look for a moment, before pointing with his dainty pointer finger. At first, he pointed at a duo, one with bright, almost blinding yellow hair and tan skin; the other with surely unhealthily pale skin and plum colored hair. Then, he moved his pointer over to a boy with the most atrocious looking haircut Atsushi had ever seen, and that was saying something, given his own style.

“So, him last,” Dazai waved in bad-haircut’s direction. “And those two first, ‘kay?” He moved his finger back over to the direction of the duo; Atsushi nodded. “Alright, if you need any further instruction, come to me or Chuuya.” And then Dazai walked off with Chuuya in tow.

And Atsushi was alone again, left to his own devices with nothing but vague instructions of what he should do and how he should spend his time.

He wasn’t exactly thrilled to have to introduce himself to so many people before the beginning of orientation, but he supposed he needed to if he truly desired the networking he had wanted so desperately.

Sucking in a breath, he took a step forward, then another, and then another. With each step, the pit in his stomach grew tenfold, but he pushed onward. He pushed forward until he ended up in front of the duo Dazai had instructed him to talk to first.

The one with bright yellow hair turned to look at him with a bright grin; the girl had been staring at him since he took his first step in their direction. She was… unnerving, to say the least, but the way he had seen her idly chatting with the boy eased Atsushi’s nerves at least a little bit.

“Hiyaaa!” The boy beamed up at him, his welcoming aura almost frightening. For some reason, in his mind, Atsushi had imagined every ultimate would be stuck up and damn near unbearable, but all the introductions had done so far was prove him wrong. “Are ya’ the kid we were missin’?” He asked curiously, the slight country accent taking him aback.

“Oh, uhm, yes, I was. I… woke up late?” He explained, but it seemed more like a question in itself than any sort of explanation.

“Thought so!” He said brightly, placing his hands on his hips. From beside the boy, the girl continued to stare at him with an expression he couldn’t read. “I’m Kenji Miyazawa! They call me the ultimate farmer, but I think talents are dumb!”

Timidly, the girl beside Kenji speaks up. “Izumi Kyouka.” She says quietly, and Atsushi can’t tell if her soft tone is natural or taught. Honestly, it's frightening either way. She didn’t seem unwelcoming in any way, but just the way she held herself was scary. Her words and mannerisms were so small they were nearly impossible for Atsushi to get a grip on what she was thinking or feeling; distantly, Atsushi hoped this was just a result of the daze they were all in and she would eventually become something less of a cryptid to him.

Atsushi noticed that she pointedly did not say her ultimate; neither did Chuuya, but he could tell that the ginger likely just forgot to mention it, or did not see a point in it when it would appear in his handbook either way. Kyouka, on the other hand, seemed like she never wanted anyone to know. He made a mental note not to trust whatever the handbook told him about her, he didn’t know if they would let her lie or not, but either way he intended to remain suspicious.

The two of them stared at him expectantly; or, more so, Kyouka looked at him expectantly and Kenji looked like there wasn’t a single coherent thought behind his brown eyes and goofy smile, Atsushi found their contrast almost endearing. He wouldn’t have expected someone as thorough and thoughtful as Kyouka to be content with sticking around someone as shallow and unprepared as someone like Kenji. He supposed opposites did attract.

“I’m Atsushi Nakajima, nice to meet you.” He smiled kindly, to which Kenji returned tenfold. The amount of energy the boy had made Atsushi want to be around him more, just to experience the pure joy he emanated. He had never been one to want to be around others, but Kenji’s joy was so infectious, he just wanted to hold it with him.

Even Kyouka, who seemed incredibly stoic and quiet from what he’d seen, shone in Kenji’s light. Maybe that was why she chose to stick by him. It’s as they say, the moon needs the sun’s light to shine, after all.

“I like your suspenders, Mister Atsushi!” Kenji grinned up at him, pointing at the black suspenders holding up his pants. He wasn’t really sure how he’d gotten into this outfit, because last he remembered, he was in his school uniform, but it was comfortable so he didn’t really mind all too much. “Man, who knew city folk had such good taste in fashion!”

“City folk?” Atsushi mused, resting his hand on his hip. He had assumed Kenji had grown up on a farm, but he didn’t know he had spent so little time in the city he referred to those who lived in them ‘city folk’. He wasn’t wrong, per say, he was a folk of the city but he didn’t know people still called them that.

“City folk!” Kenji parroted, beaming brightly.

“City folk.” Kyouka hummed, seemingly testing how the words felt on her tongue. “Why are we saying city folk?”

“I dunno,” Atsushi admitted, exhaling deeply.

“Hey, what’s your talent?” Inquired Kyouka, with a slight tilt to her head. Neither her face nor her voice seemed malicious, but they didn’t seem entirely innocent, either. “You don’t have to answer, the handbook will tell me either way, but I thought I’d try to hear it from you first.” She explained, a— quite frankly— terrible attempt at a smile on her face. It was like she’d gone so long without smiling, she no longer knew how to even do it; if she had ever known.

Atsushi grinned, putting his hands on his hips with faux pride. “Ultimate Lucky Student!” He chirped, before dampening a little to offer explanation. “It’s not as good as everyone else’s, but I’m just glad I got into the school. I’m not really good at anything, so I wasn’t at all expecting to get into a school for the best of the best. Really, a worthless nobody like me, at Hope’s Pe—”

“Shut up,” An unknown voice piped up from behind him, followed by a loud cough. The voice was low and gravelly, but high enough for Atsushi to tell that the person(likely a man) was around his age. “Listening to your little pity party is giving me a headache.” He hissed, and Atsushi didn’t fail to notice the way Kyouka froze up in his presence.

He turned to face the man, and was shocked to find it was ugly-hair, the man Dazai had been telling him to avoid for as long as he could. A part of his brain advised him to run away, but the other— more traitorous— part told him to stay and just get the introduction out of the way. If he could finish it now, he could avoid doing it later.

Plus, Dazai wouldn’t be upset if it was bad-haircut who had approached him first, and not the other way around.

Wait…

Why did Atsushi care what Dazai thought of him?

The thoughts of others had never really bothered him, and he had only really cared if someone meant a lot to him, and Dazai meant nothing; he was just some dude Atsushi now had to suffer through classes with.

Shaking off the thoughts, Atsushi tried to get a good look at the man, raising an eyebrow at his… peculiar taste in clothing. He looked like Hot Topic had thrown up all over him, covered head to toe in a dark coat accompanied by black pants; he had to be one of the ugliest people Atsushi had ever seen.

Okay, that was an exaggeration. The ugliest person Atsushi had ever known was the headmaster at his orphanage, though he’d never had the courage to admit that until now. In truth, compared to him, this man was angelic. Atsushi wouldn’t be surprised if he was an unintentional heartthrob at his old school.

Hell, if Atsushi was a teenage girl, he’d probably find the man mesmerizing. Even with his lack of eyebrows, he still managed to find a way to be beautiful in his own, mysterious way.

Atsushi couldn’t tell if he wanted to spend more time around the man, or run as far away as he could possibly manage; but, in either case, he wouldn’t judge himself— both ideas were understandable in his mind.

“—Hello?” The man sounded peeved, which snapped Atsushi out of his trance. He wasn’t sure how long he’d just been kinda staring, but it had to have been long enough to upset ugly-hair over there. “Were you even listening?” When he only blinked in response, the man rolled his eyes, scoffing under his breath, which led to a small coughing fit. Jesus, why was he coughing so much? Did he have a cold or something?

In that case, Atsushi didn’t want to inhale the man’s germs. He took a step back, scrunching up his nose ever so slightly. The man glared in response to his actions, not offended but just… angry, for a reason Atsushi felt he may never understand. There was a firm look of jealousy on ugly-hair’s face, but what did he have to be jealous of? He wasn’t an ultimate like the man, he wasn’t charming like Dazai, or reliable like Kunikida, or even just likable like Kenji.

He had next to no qualities to be jealous of, and yet here he stood, with an actual ultimate, of all people, looking at him like his life was the most desirable of them all. Atsushi didn’t understand, and part of him felt it was better that way. Part of him wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

If he knew why others desired his life, he wouldn’t get the right to be upset anymore. If he knew what made his life so seemingly amazing, he was sure he would subconsciously rely on that and that thing alone to make life seem worth living to him. A life spent clinging onto fragile stability is not a life worth living. It was the instability of life that made Atsushi push forward most days; that idea that something unknown, unpredictable, awaited him in the morning.

The man coughed impatiently, tapping his foot as his forehead creased. He probably thought Atsushi had a major staring problem, with how much he’d just been looking at him blankly rather than responding to anything he did or said.

He blinked, his eyes wide and vision slightly blurry as they came back into focus after he had zoned out. “Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that… you were saying?”

A long, grueling sigh. “I was saying; my name’s Ryuunosuke Akutagawa.” He scowled, so he really had just come over here for introductions. For some reason, part of his brain had convinced Atsushi that he had something rude to say.

Why did he have the impression that Akutagawa was a cruel person? He’d always stood by ‘don’t judge a book by it’s cover’, and yet now, he had done just that. He had unknowingly judged a good man simply because Dazai had told him to avoid him. He silently cursed himself.

“But.. that’s not what—” Kyouka tried, but was cut off by a glare from Akutagawa, which made her squeak fearfully. Jesus, what made her so afraid of him?

Okay… maybe he wasn’t as kind as Atsushi had assumed he was, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any good in him. Everyone was at least a little good, even if it was harder for some to find their goodness than others. Akutagawa seemed like someone whom it’d be incredibly difficult to find kindness within, but Atsushi was nothing if not determined.

That was it, he’d made up his mind. He would dedicate time to Akutagawa just to crack open his shell. He would search for as long as it would take to find the good in this man.

Akutagawa stared at him expectantly, and he jumped a little with surprise. “Sorry, sorry!” He bowed slightly, rising as he continued with his introduction. “Atsushi Nakajima,” He beamed, fixing his suspenders. “Ultimate—”

“— Ultimate Lucky student. Yeah, I know, I heard your annoying spiel about being a worthless human or whatever. Which, for the record, was undeniably idiotic.” Atsushi couldn’t tell if he was trying to tell Atsushi he wasn’t worthless, or call him an idiot. From the little interaction he’d had with the man, the answer was likely both; he seemed like the type of person to veil his reassurances under a partly true insult.

“Uh.. yeah,” Atsushi said unsurely, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, you haven’t told me, what’s your ultimate?” He asked kindly, but he did not fail to notice the way Akutagawa froze up at the question.

“Oh, uhm. I don’t—” He cut off, a very faint blush appearing on his cheeks. Embarrassment of an ultimate talent was the last thing Atsushi expected from the man. “I don’t remember mine.” He admitted finally, covering his mouth.

… Oh.

Oh.

Atsushi couldn’t hold back a snort, but he did manage to resist full on cackling like he wanted to. It was just shocking to imagine Akutagawa unable to remember his ultimate; in his mind, he’d thought of Akutagawa to be the kind of person who had an honestly pathetic talent but gloat it nonetheless, not just not have one at all.

“Shut up! I’m sure, whatever it is, is better than being drawn from a hat!” He squawked, anger radiating from his very being. Kyouka seemed to freeze in terror from behind him, but Atsushi didn’t back down. In fact, he only laughed harder at Akutagawa’s display of frustration.

“Yeah, sure,” He grinned mischievously, snickering under his breath. Akutagawa growled, clenching his fists and glaring at Atsushi intensely; but the white haired man didn’t falter for a moment. This only seemed to anger him more, and he turned on his heel and strutted away to go be emo elsewhere.

Immediately, Kyouka lets out a sigh of relief at his absence. Atsushi almost wants to ask why she’s so afraid of the dude, but something tells him that there’s something deeper there; something she would never share with a man she’d just met. But, what did he know, maybe she was just deathly afraid of emos. He wouldn’t be able to blame her, if that was the case; anyone who willingly listened to My Chemical Romance was terrifying.

He snorted slightly at the thought of Akutagawa listening to MCR in his dorm room and moving his very little hair over to one side of his face to cover one singular eye; the image in his head was a… mildly mortifying one, to say the least.

Kenji— who had been noticeably quiet whilst Akutagawa was there— piped up with a grin. “Welp, he was unique! I never knew city folk could be so different! On the farm, all of my family acted the same, I didn’t know people could have their own personalities!”

… What?

Ignoring that— he didn’t have the time to even begin to open that can of worms—, Atsushi waved goodbye to the two. “Anyway, I need to wrap up my introductions before the headmaster arrives. I’d rather not have to run around the school trying to find the students I missed, you know?”

Kyouka nodded, and waved back to him shyly. Kenji only beamed, not seeming at all offended by Atsushi ignoring his comment, which the orphan was glad about; he would’ve felt very bad if he’d upset the young boy.

He walked away, and as he did, he felt his handbook vibrate in his pocket. He ignored it, he didn’t have the time to read three character profiles right now. He really had no way of knowing what time it was, he was just hoping he was making good with his time and had enough to introduce himself to the 13 other students.

He hummed as his eyes scanned the room for who to interact with next. Now that he’d met both the people Dazai wanted him to meet first and the one he’d intended to meet last, the choice was up to him.

Who looked the most approachable, was the question he had to ask himself. Who looked like they wouldn’t tear him to shreds at one wrong movement or sentence. Unfortunately for him, they all looked like that. No one seemed mean or cruel, except for Akutagawa, but it’d be counterintuitive to talk to someone he’d already met, anyway.

So, he was back at square one. He supposed that left him with only one choice. Look around until his eyes land on one or a group of students, and approach them with introductions.

So, he did just that. His eyes scanned the room one final time, and they landed one two men. One with dull red hair and a small stubble, and the other with black hair, another atrocious haircut, and circular glasses. They seemed approachable enough, if not a little frightening, as most of the ultimates were to him.

He strolled towards them, trying to seem as cool and unbothered as physically possible, but he could tell it wasn’t working when both of the men looked over to him with varying looks of concern. He stopped in front of them, and their hushed conversation ceased.

They all just stared at each other for a moment, before the man with red hair piped up.

“You okay, kid? You’re incredibly pale.” He asked gently, as if Atsushi was made of glass, something to be handled with care. It was unusual to him, given how he was used to the way he’d been treated at the orphanage; it was almost nice to be treated like he was something worth keeping.

Atsushi smiled nervously, waving his hands in the air. “N-no, I’m fine, really. Just the nerves of a new school, you know? I’ve gone to the same school my whole life, so it’s a little strange to go somewhere else, yeah? And not to mention, that new school is Hope’s Peak of all places,” He cut himself off, realizing his nervous rambling was probably overbearing

He wasn’t sure why he’d suddenly started spilling all his internal panic; maybe the man’s welcoming atmosphere, or perhaps Atsushi was just so nervous his subconscious was desperately looking for some way to let out what he was feeling. Whichever it was, he was sure it wasn’t very much fun for the person on the other end to have to listen to.

However, when he looked at the two men, neither of them seemed to mind. The redhead almost looked fond, and the ravenette had a look of curiosity. Neither of them held the looks of disgust or frustration that Atsushi had been expecting.

The man on the left laughed gently. “I see,” He hummed, closing his eyes. HIs gravelly voice was shockingly comforting to Atsushi. “I haven’t personally experienced that, but I can see why it’s stressful to you,” He smiled kindly, with not even a faint tone of judgment in his voice. It was unusual for Atsushi, all he’d ever known was evil, and so he’d begun to expect that from others.
‘
So far, all his classmates had done was show him the true kindness of humanity. He almost wanted to cry, partly because of how he’d accidentally stereotyped his fellow students, but mostly because he’d never been treated with such kindness.

Seeming to notice the tears in his eyes, the redhead jumped to speak. “Are you okay?” He asked nervously. “Ango, I’m not scary, am I?” He inquired, almost whining.

“No, of course not. In fact, I’d say you’re not scary enough.” The other man shrugged his shoulders.

“Then why is he crying because of me?”

“Sorry, uhm, it’s not a bad cry, and it’s not because of you, I swear.” Atsushi reassured, pursing his lips and waving his hands. “It’s just… I’m not used to such nice, welcoming people.” He admitted, wiping away his tears.

The man with black hair raised an eyebrow. “That’s… depressing. We aren’t even being particularly kind, this is just how you’re supposed to treat people.” He said bluntly, shrugging his shoulders.

The redhead sighed loudly at the man beside him, but there was a fond look in his eyes; that sort of look that was reserved for one person and one person only. “You can’t just say that, it’s rude!” He chastised. “But, he’s right. It is kind of sad.”

The man frowned at Atsushi, and he wiped the second wave of tears out of his eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.” He mumbled, sounding genuinely ashamed of his actions. The two in front of him seemed to grow slightly more concerned at this.

“You’re fine, kid. Swear it.” He said, pursing his lips. “I’m Oda Sakunosuke, ultimate Caretaker.” He smiled, placing his hand on his heart. Oddly, this simple motion managed to successfully calm him down, if only a little.

“Ultimate… caretaker?” Atsushi parrots, following Oda’s movements and placing his hand on his heart as well.

“Mhm.” He confirmed, and Atsushi felt the heaviness in his heart grow lighter. He was glad he might possibly have someone to confide in when things got tough.

The heartfelt moment was cut short by a loud, fake cough. “Ango Sakaguchi. I’m the ultimate accountant.” He said blandly, closing his eyes halfway through. He seemed more stern and stoic than Oda. Maybe that was why they were together.

“I read about you on the forums,” Atsushi nodded, he very clearly remembered seeing Ango’s name and ultimate there. Though, he could say for certain that the man wasn’t like how he’d imagined him through descriptions in the chats. He’d been described as a gentle and timid soul, but Atsushi could tell he was anything but.

“Hm, did you now,” Ango replied unhelpfully, tilting his head. His voice had a lilt of curiosity. “I didn’t think they’d include me there. I would’ve thought Oda or Dazai would’ve been the more likely option. They seem like they’d be more revered by the public than me…” He trailed off, a lost sort of look in his eyes.

“Yeah, you’d think so,” Atsushi agreed, not realizing how rude he sounded. “But, shockingly, I saw nothing of either of them. In fact, I only read about 7 of the students here, and that’s including myself.” He muttered, more-so to himself, yet loud enough to be heard by the other two.

“That’s odd, you’d think all of the students would be discussed,” Oda said thoughtfully. “Maybe the school’s just secretive with their students.”

“But, if that was the case, why would they release information on any of their students?”

“True… Hopefully, the headmaster will explain it during his speech,” He nodded even though they both knew it was incredibly unlikely, turning back to Atsushi. “For now, you should just try to finish introducing yourself, kid. You’ve got a lot of people to talk to and not a lot of time, you know.” Oda advised, and Atsushi nodded.

“Of course! I should probably get going, then.” And with that, he spun around on his heel and speed walked away. Faintly, he heard a light chuckle from Oda, and he couldn’t tell if it was due to his antics or if Ango had said something particularly funny to the man.

Rather than taking time to think about who he should talk to, he just kept walking forward until he reached a group of four. Sitting on the bleachers was a man with medium length black hair and an all white outfit, complete with a pearly ushanka. There was a person standing on either side of them, and a man sitting at his feet.

One of the men at his side had snow white hair, an eyepatch that looked like a playing card, and a crazed grin on his face. He was unnerving to look at, but Atsushi tried his best not to judge. On the man’s other side was a much more approachable looking person. They had half white and half purple hair, and a look of nervousness painted on their face. At his feet was a younger looking boy with reddish-orange hair and a look of poorly masked terror.

Part of his brain screamed at him to walk away, to find someone else to talk to; unfortunately, the other part won in the argument and he continued to walk forward towards the group. He was undeniably curious about all of the group; maybe they just seemed scary and were actually kind, welcoming people. Distantly, he doubted that assumption but tried his best to avoid judging them by appearances.

Attempting to mask his expression, he cleared the few feet between him and the group. All attention turned to him, and he felt like he’d just stepped foot into a lion’s den and all they saw was new food. He felt so small in their presence, like a bunny to a wolf.

In a thick russian accent, the man in the middle was the first to speak. “Well, hello there,” he said slyly, far too slyly for Atsushi to be anything but uncomfortable. The boy with red hair shot him a sympathetic look before turning back to the Russian man.

“Uhm, hi.” Atsushi coughed, waving nervously. “I’m here to, uhm, introduce myself. Because I haven’t done that yet.” He pursed his lips, not knowing what to say.

“Right.” The boy with half and half hair said, ushering him to keep talking.

“Atsushi Nakajima,” He tried with a grin, but it came off as more of a grimace. “Ultimate Lucky Student.”

“You can call me Sigma, I’m the Ultimate Informant,”

Huh, he said ‘you can call me’, rather than ‘my name is’; how odd.

The man with a thick russian accent was the next to speak. “Fyodor Dostoevsky,” He closed his eyes gently as he spoke; Atsushi almost admired his confidence and sureness of himself. “Ultimate Chess Master.”

Atsushi put his hand over his mouth, trying to stifle a laugh. Fyodor seemed like the last person who would play chess as an ultimate talent. He didn’t even know that was something someone could be so proficient at.

The man with white hair at Fyodor’s side seemed almost offended on Fyodor’s behalf, but it was quickly stomped out and replaced with a large, almost crazed, grin. That expression alone was enough to make Atsushi’s back go ramrod straight and his arms to fall to his sides.

“Hah!” The man laughed. “Oh, you’re funny, I like you,” He grinned, throwing his hand out. Atsushi was shocked at his upbeat demeanor. “Nikolai Gogol!”

The man—Nikolai— shook Atsushi’s hand with a frightening amount of strength. “Ultimate Illusionist, at your service!”

“Illusionist?” Atsushi parroted, tilting his head to the side. “Huh, I was thinking something more along the lines of ultimate lunatic, or clown.” He shrugged, and Nikolai didn’t seem the least bit offended by his snarky remark.

Fyodor looked at the redhead expectantly, but the man made no move to speak or even meet his eyes.

“Does the guy even speak?” Nikolai whispered, and Sigma gave him an incredulous look.

“You can’t- you can’t just ask that,” Sigma sounded exasperated, fed up with Nikolai’s actions.

“Well why not? It’s in my rights, you know!” Nikolai snarked, sticking his tongue out at Sigma. Sigma only sighed, relenting.

Fyodor kicked the boy with red hair, and Atsushi had half the mind to try and stop him, but his overall fear of the group stops him. The boy stands up and bows apologetically before turning to face him.

“Karma.” He says, voice almost robotic. “Ultimate Servant.” He gave Atsushi a look of almost desperation, but his voice remained stone cold.

Atsushi had to do a double take, looking to Fyodor then back to Karma.

Nikolai marveled at the boy. “Holy shit. He does talk,”

“Of course he does, man, he’s not mute.” Sigma rolled his eyes. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being mute, of course—”

“Wait, excuse me, you’re the ultimate servant?” Atsushi pursed his lips, a hint of pity in his eyes. “I think your talent is wonderful and I can’t imagine how difficult it must’ve been to reach the top, don’t get me wrong; but I just can’t imagine someone willingly choosing to devote their lives to something like servitude.”

“Technically speaking,” Sigma chimed. “We are all living a life of servitude. Freedom is something we as a species will never experience.”

“Well aren’t you fun at parties,” Nikolai snarked, and Atsushi had to stop himself from snorting.

Karma gave him a look of exasperation for a split second, before it was quickly stomped out. “I suppose I’ve done the unimaginable,” He said dryly, if not reluctantly. Atsushi felt a pang of sympathy in his heart; something told him Karma’s situation wasn’t exactly willing.

He understood, even if it was to a different scale. Atsushi also didn’t get to choose what he’d done in life, and the one choice he had gotten to make himself was whether or not he wanted to accept Hope’s Peak’s invitation; and even then, it wasn’t much of a choice, given his situation.

Now, he wasn’t going to say he had gone through the same thing as Karma, because he hadn’t. Just by looking at him, Atsushi could tell the boy had seen things no child should have seen by his age. He couldn’t imagine what the ginger had to go through; and honestly, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to imagine it.

“Well, then, I should probably finish introductions,” Atsushi said awkwardly, taking a small step back. “Yep! Nice talk!”

Nikolai gave him an over eccentric wave to bid him off, and Atsushi was unable to find it anything but terrifying. Karma nodded slowly and fell back onto his knees and began to once again massage Fyodor’s feet, as he had been doing before Atsushi showed up.

He shot the boy one last look of worry before turning on his heel and finding someone else, or a group, to talk to.

He found himself walking towards a trio of people who looked like the last thing they’d be was friends, but Atsushi had learned better than to trust people's bonds by appearance; Ango and Oda, Kyouka and Kenji, and Dazai and Chuuya were just a few examples.

The first person in the trio was a boy with dark brown, almost black, hair and a brown hat— the boy who could tell Atsushi was intimidated by Kunikida, he noted. Next was another man with slightly lighter hair covering his eyes, and… was that a raccoon?! Atsushi didn’t know the academy even allowed pets, let alone vermin. Ignoring the strange animal, Atsushi turned to look at the final member; a girl with short purple hair, a gentle smile, and a white blouse.

Unlike the other people he’d approached, none of them bothered to look at him when he neared them. Atsushi paused beside the man with the raccoon, and even then it took a few moments for anyone to even acknowledge he was there. They all just continued the conversation they were having amongst themselves.

“And so I said—”

“I’m sorry, uhm, hi, I’m Atsushi,” He smiled kindly. To his surprise, none of them bat an eye.

The boy with dark hair piped up, popping a lollipop into his mouth. “Atsushi Nakajima. You won the drawing this year, right?” He inquired, pointing to Atsushi with his eyes closed.

“Y-Yes, that’s me. But, how’d you know my last name— you’re not like… a stalker, right?” He whisper-yelled, panicking slightly in his mind.

The girl snorted, but didn’t bother speaking.

“No, of course he’s not!” The man with the raccoon snapped, and Atsushi couldn’t help but grow shocked that someone else had jumped in to defend the man. “He’s the world’s greatest detective!”

The pieces began to fit into his mind, and his jaw dropped. “Ranpo? Like… Ranpo Edogawa?” His eyes widened with disbelief. He’d read about Ranpo both on the news and on the forums. According to just about every source, this was easily the smartest person on the planet.

“The one and only!” He grinned brightly, kicking his feet. The most shocking part about this wasn’t his intelligence, it was how he acted; Atsushi had imagined the smartest person on earth to be serious and stoic, not childish as he was currently acting. “The Ultimate Detective!”

The ultimate was believable, given his status. It was far more believable that he was a detective than, say, the fact Dazai was supposedly the ultimate strategist.

The woman was the next to pipe up, cutting off Atsushi’s thoughts. “Yosano Akiko,” She introduced, and Atsushi found he, shockingly, remembered reading about her on the forums as well. If he remembered correctly, she was the ultimate nurse, she was known for being able to cure damn near any illness and nurse almost any wound back to health. People speculated she was literally superhuman; and Atsushi wouldn’t be surprised if in another universe, she was. Unfortunately, superpowers weren’t a thing in this one.

“It’s nice to meet you, ms. Yosano!” He grinned, and the woman gave him a welcoming smile, there was something slightly malicious under the surface of her expression.

She puts a hand on her hip, almost overwhelming Atsushi with her coolness. “I can say the same to you,” Yosano says, and he almost cries with pride. Out of everyone here, Atsushi looked up to her the most so far.

“Uhm,” The man with a raccoon coughed into his fist. “I’m… Poe. Edgar Allen Poe.” The man— Poe— said wryly. Atsushi couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “I’m- I’m not from around here, before you ask.”

He nodded, that was understandable. “I’m the Ultimate Mystery Author.” He said nervously. “I- I wouldn’t say I’m that good, but—”

“That’s bull!” Ranpo introjects, a little angrily. “You’re the first person to make a mystery that was actually difficult for me to solve! That’s no easy feat, Poe!” He pointed at the taller man accusingly, causing Poe to flush with embarrassment. Atsushi couldn’t help but smile at the two of them, he was starting to understand what connected them so closely.

They got along in a way Atsushi hadn’t seen with any duo so far. If Hope’s Peak had taught him anything, he supposed it was to never judge a book by its cover. These last ten minutes had proved time and time again that there was more to people than he saw on the surface.

“He’s right, you know,” Yosano chimed. “Nearly every other author can only wish for Ranpo to take more than one page to solve their mystery! For your novel, it took him almost the whole thing to solve!” She assured him gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. The man’s embarrassment grew tenfold.

Their conversation changed topics, and they seemed to yet again forget Atsushi was also there. He took this as his sign to walk away and do his final two introductions. He turned around and crossed the entire gym to find a duo in the corner of the gym.

As Atsushi approached the two, he noticed that the female of the two was being oddly touchy, her arms thrown lazily around him as she peppered his face with kisses.

“Am I…” He started awkwardly, already preparing an escape method. “Am I interrupting something?” He asked, crossing his arms slightly as he kept his distance from them. The man turns to look at him, while the girl still continues to ignore his existence and still pamper her partner(?)

The boy tries his best at a warm smile, but it comes off as more annoyed. “No, no, you’re not. Naomi!” He snaps, and the girl reluctantly stops what she’s doing.

“Sorry, big brother!” He whines, and Atsushi blanks.

Big brother?

They were siblings?!

He must have a weird look on his face, because the ginger raises an eyebrow.

“I’m Junichiro Tanizaki, and this is my sister—”

“— Naomi! We’re the ultimate Acrobats!” She cut off her brother, grinning brightly.

He tilted his head curiously “You’re both acrobats? Are you like… a duo?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. For his own wellbeing, he chose to ignore the fact they were siblings; that was a can of worms he did not feel like opening right now.

“Exactly. We’re a duo act. Initially, Naomi was supposed to be the only one who got in, but she said she couldn’t perform alone and made them accept me, too.” Junichiro explained gently, giving him a look of sympathy.

Ignoring his… odd relationship with this sister, he seemed to be a pretty nice guy; Atsushi appreciated that. It was infinitely easier to ignore how they acted with each other when they were good people.

“That’s interesting, I’ve never heard of duo ultimates before.” He nods at the two, and they both look at him with various looks of pride and glee. Naomi seems the most excited of the two, but Junichiro doesn’t seem to be much less proud.

Naomi practically jumped on Junichiro, running a finger across his chest. “We’re the best, aren’t we, big brother?” She says quietly, and Junichiro sends him a look that screams ‘please help me’

… Alright, yeah, that’s enough of that for him.

He took a step back, followed by another, and then another; more steps until he’s far enough to not hear them but also far enough to be completely alone.

With all introductions complete and the headmaster still not there, Atsushi chooses to use the rest of the time to read about his other classmates, maybe get the ultimates of those he didn’t know yet.

He pulled out his handbook and tapped it twice to turn it on.

“Welcome, Atsushi Nakajima, ultimate Lucky Student!” The handbook read, and Atushi noticed he could finally see the time; it was 9:14. The headmaster should be arriving any minute now, wonderful.

Atsushi clicked on the classmates tab and read through the basic information he’d been provided with by the digital guidebook.

Doppo Kunikida - Ultimate Manager; Hope Fragments - 1/6
Status - Alive

Huh? What are ‘hope fragments’? And why is there a need for a status on the bottom?

‘Osamu Dazai - Ultimate Strategist; Hope Fragments - 1/6
Status - Alive

Chuuya Nakahara - Ultimate Model; Hope Fragments - 1/6
Status - Alive

Kenji Miyazawa - Ultimate Farmer; Hope Fragments - 1/6
Status - Alive

Izumi Kyouka - Ultimate Sword Meister; Hope Fragments - 1/6
Status - Alive

Ryuunosuke Akutagawa - Ultimate ???; Hope Fragments - 1/6
Status - Alive

Oda Sakunosuke - Ultimate Caretaker; Hope Fragments - 1/6
Status - Alive

Ango Sakaguchi - Ultimate Accountant; Hope Fragments - 1/6
Status - Alive

Sigma - Ultimate Informant; Hope Fragments - 1/6
Status - Alive

Fyodor Dostoevsky - Ultimate Chess Master; Hope Fragments - 1/6
Status - Alive

Nikolai Gogol - Ultimate Illusionist; Hope Fragments - 1/6
Status - Alive

Karma - Ultimate Servant; Hope Fragments - 1/6
Status - Alive

Ranpo Edogawa - Ultimate Detective; Hope Fragments - 1/6
Status - Alive

Yosano Akiko - Ultimate Nurse; Hope Fragments - 1/6
Status - Alive

Edgar Allen Poe - Ultimate Mystery Author; Hope Fragments - 1/6
Status - Alive

Junichiro Tanizaki - Ultimate Acrobat; Hope Fragments - 1/6
Status - Alive

Naomi Tanizaki - Ultimate Acrobat; Hope Fragments - 1/6
Status - Alive’

Before Atsushi had the time to finish thinking about whatever the hell the hope fragments meant or give an actual thought to the need for the statuses of his classmates, he was interrupted by a loud, boisterous, high pitched, annoying voice.

“Hey there, howdy! Everybody here? Great! Then let's get things rolling!”