Dangan Ronpa: Unser Sommerende/Act Naturally

Arnie was a screaming hairy armadillo, kept in a sizable glass habitat on my desk, given food to eat, water to drink, toys to play with, everything he could ask for. This didn’t stop him from screaming whenever he was picked up. It was in his nature, I guess.

“That’s how everyone is, huh?” I thought aloud, combing my hair until it stuck to its cultivated feline shape. “You can have all you need and still want more. Or maybe it’s ‘you can have all you need but still won’t like being picked up’.”

Arnie didn’t respond, go figure.

Yeah, it’s a little weird to compare armadillos to humans, but ah, what can ya do?

Anyway, I walked on over and picked him up. Every meowning was the same - drink of water, get dressed, get my hair right, and pick up Arnie the armadillo, and just stare into his eyes for a bit. See how long it takes for him to crack.

“Wrraaaa! Wrraaaa! Wrraaaa!”

Never change, Arnie. I set him down and gave him a couple pats, whether he liked it or not.

To me, Arnie represents the deepest parts of the human brain. Admit it - there’s been plenty of times when bad luck’s the one picking you up, and the only thing you can do is scream. It probably happened every week when you were a kitten, and started to happen less and less when you got older, but trouble is, you start thinking that it’ll never happen again. Maybe that’s why you’re never ready for it.

What’s the solution?

Don’t let people pick you up.

How do you do that?

Pick them up first, duh.

I tell you what, Arnie, the one thing you get right is to never trust anyone, not even the guy who fed and housed you for all these years. If I were you, I’d be screaming just as loud. Sure, it’s in your nature to yelp, no amount of companionship in the world could stop that reaction... But humans have a lot to learn, hey?

The main problem Arnie has, really, is that he’ll never be big enough to pick me up. If I were him, I’d go audition for a starring role in some big blockbuster meowvie or something. But nobody wants armadillos in meowvies, because they’re too dumb to talk, and they hate attention. I probably have enough influence in the industry to sort things out for him, maybe even score a side role in one of those low budget kids movies where they dub some guy talking over animal footage to make it look like the animal’s talking. That’s problem one dealt with, and it’s not like his disdain for fame’s gonna stop us from putting him on camera.

But that ain’t happening, wanna know why? ‘Cus nobody wants him to be a movie star, and most importantly, I don’t want him, either. First of all: no talent. Second of all: nothing in it for me! How stupid would I have to be to give him all the help I can if he hasn’t got any audience at all? Yeah, it’s a bit mean, but I’m already being generous by keeping him alive.

“You’re a lucky little fella, aren’t you? Aren’t youuuu?”

I pet him a few more times, and he groaned in a high pitch, slowly scrambling away from my hand. See, it’s a mutually beneficial relationship - I take care of him, and he purrvides me with entertainment. It never gets old.

Maybe I’m getting carried away with my thoughts this time around, but I’m a little fixated on the idea of Arnie getting his own role in a film. It’s a little stupid, yes, but if I could snag screentime for that little fella, I could easily do the same for a human, yeah? It was a wonder that I hadn’t yet, but I guess I needed to find someone who could give me something in return for the popularity boost.

“Oh, hang on, I’m at a famous school, right? So there’s gotta be famous people. What better to get in return for boosting their popularity, than my popularity getting boosted by them? My name next to theirs, sitting on posters throughout the world... I mean, of course, I gotta find someone more famous than I am, so that I get out more than I put in. Problem is, if someone less famous than me wanted to leech off me like that, I’d be smart enough to say no - so not only do I have to find someone famous, I have to find a famous schmuck.”

“Mrrr.”

“Yeah right, like you’d know.”

“Mah.”

“Oh? Him?~ Maybe, maybe...”

Arnie was (probably) suggesting that the man I was after was in the same class as me, and a natural choice! Yep, James McKenzie... A pretty face, a pretty voice, countless fangirls, stuff any guy would kill for. It’s only natural that I should try to get some of that fame and furtune to rub off on me, like a cat cosying up to one of those cat toys... You know the one, the weird brush thing that sticks up off the ground? Yeah, one of those. James definitely has more influence than I do, so I was going to benefit like crazy from this.

Only thing I had to do was convince him... A movie deal with his band? The Beatups were long overdue for a film debut after years of touring. Thing is, James was definitely the frontman of the group, and the one who was always signing the autographs and going on talk shows and yadda ya, no wonder he got a place at the academy and none of the other members did. I bet they’re super jealous, ahaha, but the main point I’m trying to make is that including the whole band would clutter up the movie - an obnoxious mist stopping everyone’s favourite star from shining.

Ah, who am I kidding, the rest of the band were probably entertaining as hell, but I wanted to appeal to James directly, so why not save all the glory for him?

... With some leftover glory for me, duh.

Spending half an hour doing makeup every morning sucks.

Anyway, it was another morning and I had finally finished doing my makeup, and of course, I triple-checked that I had done it correctly. So, naturally, it was time to start doing my hair up. Now, it didn’t take nearly as long as the makeup, particularly because I didn’t make it into mad animalistic shapes that would make me look absolutely bonkers. Even so, I always need to be in a pristine state, since that’s pretty much fifty percent of my career.

But I feel warm and happy when I bring joy to people’s faces, just by existing the way I do! So I make sure not to admire myself for too long after I’ve groomed myself the best I can.

When I opened the door, Jo was waiting for me - wait, why didn’t he knock? He had this eager aura around him, so I figured he hadn’t been waiting for too long, but that didn’t make it feel any less strange.

He didn’t say much at first, probably playing another one of his mind games to see how I’d react, so I just spoke to him like he wasn’t doing it in the first place, not giving him the satisfaction of whatever the heck he was doing.

“Hello.”

“Hi there.”

... Oh come on, you’re the one who came to me, just tell me what you want!

“S-so, why didn’t you knock instead of just waiting there?”

“I’m glad you asked.” he said as his aura turned to smugness. “After all, I had a feeling that you were spending time getting ‘ready’ for the day. Having to always put on makeup must be tough for you girls, huh?”

My eyelid twitches a little. “Oh, so you just came here to tease me, huh? Keep that up and I’ll report you to Mister-”

“Hush! Hush, hush, I’m just having fun. Don’t be so...”

“Catty? Yeah, I think I have a reason to be catty right now. If you have anything actually important to say, you’d best get it over and done with now, okay?”

“Alright, basically, I’ve got an offer for ya...”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have insulted me before if you’re trying to get me to agree with something.”

“How I deliver the offer doesn’t matter, ‘cause it’s an offer you can’t refuse, y’see.”

He raised his eyebrows, probably expecting those words to make some deep impression on me. I wasn’t amused. And, when he figured that I wasn’t going to trust him over a cool-sounding sentence, he wiped his brow and finally got on with it.

“It’s not a SUPER big deal, just that I decided to try and pitch a movie idea-”

“Actors don’t pitch movies, they just get picked to act in them.”

“L-listen here you little...” Jo took a sudden step toward me, before catching his breath and relaxing. “I’ve got connections, alright? I can make things happen. There’s no need for us to get in a brawl over nothing, eh?”, he said, firmly placing his hand on my shoulder as he did.

“Well, you’re the one laying a hand on me.”

“Look, kid-”

“I’m the same age as you.” I couldn’t help it, but my tone was getting more and more exhausted with all of this.

“Ugh, look, this is going to help the both of us, just... Okay I’ll get to the point, I’m gonna net you the main role in whatever movie you like, the next logical step in your career, your face on the big screen, your name in lights, your...”

He trailed off, engaging in the sales pitch of a lifetime, and although it was overbearing, I was actually perking up a bit at this idea... A movie... Yes, that sounded wonderful! Just one, I doidn’t want to prioritise it over the music, but I had the time for it. Why not?

Of course, once I had the deal, I wanted Jo to have nothing to do with it, since he was getting on my nerves and all.

“Mm, yes yes, I hear what you’re saying. What sort of movie do you have in mind?”

“... I’ll get back to you on that.”

“Wait, are you serious? You don’t have anything planned?”

“Look, I’m not a director! All I’m saying is that I get you on the ticket for something, and the rest of the crew handles it from there! You practically don’t have to do anything other than reading some lines out on camera, so there’s no need to go asking questions, really. Nothing to worry about!”

“Well... I’m terribly sorry, but I have to make sure that whatever film they’d plan out would be compatible with my public image-”

“Listen, listen, anything’s compatible with YOUR public image.” He swiftly turned around, put his hand on my shoulder again, and clicked his finger as he pointed forward. “Anything.”

“What are you pointing at-”

“All you need to know is that the only way your popularity can go is up, catch?”

“Alright, yes, I suppose I’m being too cautious.”

“Amazing. Now I just need you to, uh, wait a second...”

He rummaged in the seat pocket of his trousers and procured some lengthy, multi-page contract. Shouldn’t his agent be giving this to me? Wait, the fact that they’ve prepared this beforehand means that I’m probably walking into some sort of trap they’ve laid out - it wouldn’t be the first time, man. But even if the terms and conditions aren’t fair, it’s not like things can really go wrong for me if most of my income still stems from my music career, so it should be fine, I just have to make sure of one thing...

“Is there a bit in the contract saying I won’t have to be in the same movie as you?”

His face distorts a teensy little bit. “Dunno, haven’t read it.”

“I’d like to read it then.”

“What, all this?! C’mon, let’s be reasonable here-”

I snatch the contract out of his hands, and, already running late for class at this point (I bet he was late too, he skips class so damn often), I just walked off without looking back.

“Promise me you won’t tear it up, hey?!” He pleaded from the back of the hallway.

“I’ll think about it!”

“You’ll think about signing it?!”

“I’ll think about tearing it up!”

Gosh, it’s all such a daze. The moment the school holidays start, the band has to tour, since that’s the only time I’m really available. It’s all fun and games the first week, but it just drags on and on and everything and everyone starts to melt into one huge blurry ‘event’. Perhaps I let myself get fatigued too easily, but I’m still able to perform competently and confidently, but that’s only because I invest all my daily energy into it. Even then, it’s the same songs on repeat, drowned out by screeching crowds who, despite being happy to see me, are undeniably a handful. It’s all such a blur, though, that whenever one of my bandmates recalls something interesting from the time and the rest of them all nod, there’s not really anything in my head to reciprocate the memories. Yes, even that time three girls tried to climb on the stage to get to us at the same time. Now, two, I can expect, but three... Maybe the rest of the band made that one up to test how much I was willing to believe them.

In between these performances, I’m basically a corpse.

It was during one of these interludes, travelling back from a tour of the United States, that someone came up to me and said something or another. I think it was my manager? I couldn’t even open my eyes, so I had no clue. It’d make the most sense for it to be my manager, although really, it could have been anybody... Still, out of politeness, I tried my best to keep up with what he had to say.

“Mr. McKenzie?”

“Yh... Yeah?...”

“This has been crumpled up in the bottom of your suitcase for a month now. I’m astonished that you could tuck away something so important and forget about it like this...”

I heard paper being flapped around my face, and, with great hesitation, I groggily forced my eyes open into a squint. Of course, a squint isn’t really enough to read the tiny font that lined the page in front of me. What even was this document?...

“Are you paying attention?”

“Gwegh... Give me a moment...”

I wearily raised a hand and moved it in the general direction of the paper, missing a couple of times before latching onto it. But this man was gripping it quite tightly.

“You don’t have to read anything, I’ve gone through the contract in its entirety already. Plus, if I let you handle it, you’ll probably drop it behind your seat somehow.”

“Nhhhoooo I won’t. Bleh...”

“Now now, there’s no need to prove it.”

“Mmh... Don’t patronise me...”

“Very well then, I’ll leave you to it.”

“To what?...”

“Signing it. The details of the contract are lengthy, but I can assure you that there is nothing you would object to. Signing it can only bring about good things.”

“Sign... Nooooo... No sign...”

“Alright, we’ll do it your way...”

If felt my right hand being lifted up, and a pen being slid between my fingers, followed by my hand being dragged above a piece of paper, the biro’s point gently gliding across the white plane. I wasn’t even angry that I was literally being forced to sign something despite my reservations - for my mind was utterly blown by his moxxy in even trying such a thing. Out of curiosity, I forced my eyes open a bit further this time to get a look at the signature... It was indistinguishable from mine. Amazing.

“Thank you, Mr. McKenzie.”

“... I’m thirsty...” I murmured, the events of the signing leaving my memory instantly, never to return.

... Wait, if I don’t remember what happened, how am I even recounting any of this?!

I grinned with accomplishment as I gently placed the wide-brimmed hat on James' head, and I ran two fingers along either side of the feather that stuck out of the headgear, straightening it out purrfectly. The rest of his quaint outfit was already assembled, some sort of olden days soldier uniform, older than Mary's, I think? It was some sort of blue coat that's apparently called a 'tabard', clearly named by some esoteric genius, I mean, tabard? What? And of course, leather pants, because obviously he needed leather pants. A dashing musketeer.

Our brilliant new star lifts his brim to reveal a scowl headed my way.

“Since when were you the costume designer?”

“Never claimed to be. I just wanted to put the hat on.”

“Alright, fine, you got to do that. Happy now? I don’t even know why you’re here if you don’t have anything to do with the production.”

“What, didn’t you read the contract?~”

“I never signed anything, first of all, and second of all... Um, n-no I didn’t. But you said you wouldn’t be involved, yeah?”

“You asked, silly. I never made any promises, sorry.”

I couldn’t help smirking as his expression steadily grew crosser.

“So, you’re just a side role, I take it? A background appearance?”

“Nah, I’m co-starring with ya.”

“YOU LITTLE FU-” He lunged for my throat, stopping inches away and catching himself mid-attack, freezing in place like a cartoon character who momentarily realised that he had just walked off a cliff. The statue boy swivelled his head around a little, making sure nobody was watching or whatever, and promptly returned to his previous position, a bead of sweat chilling out on his forehead. “I’m not looking forward to this.”

“Wah, nobody likes little old me.”

“Maybe that’d change if you weren’t so snarky about it, eh?~”

“Wow, hypurrcrite much?”

“Th-that’s the worst pun I’ve heard from you yet. Wow. Terrible.”

“Yeah, thanks a bunch, now get out there and shine, kid.” I poked him on the forehead to urge him on set.

“Nh!” Wow, he actually flinched from that... Man, if he’s willing to choke me but he can’t handle being poked on the forehead, I sure do worry about him. Poor little kitten. “Okay, fine, might as well get this over with.”

During the filming, I found myself observing pretty much every scene I could. James was so adamant about having never signed it that I kind of wonder how his signature moseyed its way onto the dotted line, but ah, results are way more purrtinent than the process. I was just so satisfied with pulling the contract off, that was why I loved every minute of the process. Plus, seeing every scene meant that I would be able to sleep through the premiere and not actually have to watch the movie. C’mon, I need my catnaps, okay?

Still, I eventually had to act in a number of scenes, duh. I played the role of the main rival to James’ character, go figure. A simple character, competing with the hero for success and for the heart of the fair lady who caught both of their eyes, man, the writers can’t come up with ANYTHING new! But ah, all the teenage girls can imagine themselves as the fair lady and faint in ecstasy when James declares his love in the middle of the rain. Boooooring.

At least I get a big hat like him.

Anyway, it was time for the big moment, the final duel between the two of us. I mean, it was just a fictional event between two fictional characters, but I bet James saw it as him actually fighting me, desperate to get a win over me for roping him into this. Well, unlike in real life, the good guy always has to win, so I’m sure he was chipper going into it.

Well, I didn’t actually need to guess that he was chipper.

Going into the scene, the two of us standing on the centre of a rooftop of some old chapel, it was really hard to look at anything other than his smug grin. The script said that he was supposed to look cautious yet determined, but the director didn’t tell him to actually change his expression... In fact, I hadn’t seen the boy get a single order from above during the entire production process. What gives?

Ugh, I dunno, maybe they let him make that face because it exuded confidence or whatever.

“And now, vile rapscallion,” he says with a swish of his rapier, “it is at last time to put an end to your misdeeds!”

“Pah, talk is cheap. Have at you!”

During out duel, the only thing I can think of is, ‘did the safety regulators approve us fighting on top of a slanted roof?’ He’s definitely being super aggressive, too, I mean, yeah, of course he’s supposed to win in the end, but it’s kind of hard to stay balanced with how well he’s keeping it up. Ah well, as long as he doesn’t try to kill me, I won’t kill him.

... Wait, this is the same guy who tried to choke me earlier, right?

I mean, he wouldn’t kill me. He’s probably the least prone to murder out of anyone I know, he’s just a soft young lad, hey? But everything was going so quickly that I couldn’t get a good look at his eyes, all I could see was that increasingly smug smile, one that was starting to look like the smile I see when I wake up in the morning.

Ah, but I was almost at the edge of the roof now! That’s where I’d fall to ‘my death’, my death being a pile of cushy foam padding on a platform placed decently far up the wall. All I had to do was fall backwards instead of falling sideways, but I was loosing my footing more and more as I got closer to the edge, and if this kept up, I’d...

“Now, you rotten fiend, you are clearly facing defeat. If you’re willing to accept mercy, then-”

“Please oh please please please please please show me mercy!” I blurted out without thinking.

... That wasn’t my line. I heard the director calling the scene to cut, and I just sort of sat down and jittered a little. James looked down at me, his face fading into concern.

“Are you okay?”

“... Y-yeah...”

He awkwardly looked away to the filming crew for a second, before gently patting me on my hat.

“Look, it’s fine, I’m sorry that I scared you, okay?”

“Y-you mean it?...”

“... Uh. I mean, you kind of deserved it.”

“... Wrraaaa...”

... Other than that, the movie was finished without a hitch. After a while, the reviews for the movie came out. ‘The One Musketeer’, crap name, but great ratings. All the reviews were fawning over James, but I could barely find a mention of myself... What gives?! Is he really that popular that every other actor involved is completely ignored?! Please don’t tell me I’m gonna be ‘that guy who was in that movie with James McKenzie in it’, please oh please...