Dangan Ronpa: Unser Sommerende/The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill

Our guns ain't actually registered, so me and Mary can't show our faces 'round firing ranges. We spend a lot of time lining up cola bottles out in the country and shattering them, so long as there's nothing else to do. It was tough having to buy the expensive sodas with the posh-looking packaging, but we were too young to buy alcohol. Too young to own guns either, sure, but it's not like I was gonna go back to my old man's house and ask for his discarded whiskey bottles.

Fucking alcoholic.

Life was moving slowly with the start of winter break, so we'd been doing this every few days, for a month straight. We weren't even drinking the soda pop, we'd just pour it on the ground before lining them up on the fence. One time we didn't empty them at all, and watched the liquid go everywhere whenever we shot one, what a blast. It didn't remain a blast for very long, but life's life.

Today was another bottle breaking day. Go figure, I wouldn't have described it if I wasn't going to talk about it.

Mary stood closer than usual to the bottles that day, and her grip on the musket was a little shakier. Obviously the girl wasn't right, but she's the type who gets mad when you pity her. Most people don't like that sorta trait, but it's probably something we share in common.

But this time, she actually told me what was wrong, turning to me the moment after shattering a bottle, and saying in a rehearsed-sounding voice...

"Can we swap firearms for today?"

"Huh, fancy that, you're finally admitting that rusty musket's past its prime?"

"Don't smirk at me." She raised her head a little, trying to intimidate me, as if I hadn't teased her fifty times before.

"Alright, settle down. I always thought you needed to use that gun 24/7 since anything else wouldn't match with your outfit, and you gotta stay in-character, huh?"

"In-character?..."

"Y'know, with the whole Napoleon getup."

"This is my casual outfit." I hold back a round of laughter, and she tries not to blow her top again, until eventually gaining a cheeky smirk. "... Well, it's a lot more sensible than a raccoon tail."

"Sure."

"Sure?!" Haha, she gave me an angry look for not getting angry at her. Closing her eyes, Mary sighed loudly, the same sorta way steam comes out of a fiery engine. "Whatever. I just haven't handled a revolver before, since they were more of a side-weapon in warfare contexts... And because muskets and rifles are... Cooler."

"If so those are so cool, how come you wanna use these instead?" I said, tapping my left holster a couple times as she eyed it with exhaustion.

"You should consider it as me being generous enough to let you use a Modèle 1777 corrigé en l'an IX."

"Sure, just as long as you don't make me pronounce that."

"Haha, you are so funny. Ugh."

The trade was made, pleasure doing business. A fair shake.

"Don't overwork Miguel and Nancy, y'hear?"

"You gave your guns names, Rackham? You're kidding, right?"

"Those're better names than Model 1776 carriage, I tell ya."

"W-well I'm not the one who named it that, okay?!"

She stormed off back to face the remaining bottles, and I took a gander at the, uh... The gun. It was made from some quality timber, tip to tip, and the metal was polished fine, too. It was a long thing, yeah, and it had a bit of weight to it. Holding it up with its muzzle on the ground, it was as tall as Archie, impressive. The real issue would be the whole loading and firing the damn thing. I'd seen Mary do it plenty of times, but you never really learn how to do something until actually get down to doing it.

But I didn't really wanna do it. Kinda seemed like a waste of time when I could be using a weapon that doesn't take an eternity to fire one shot. I figured I'd just sit back and take it easy this time around, and let Mary have her fun with Miguel and Nancy.

Speaking of Miguel and Nancy, it doesn't take an expert to figure out how to use a revolver, but Mary was just holding them up to her face and staring at them like a horse that's been asked to book a holiday.

"They're already loaded."

"Wonderful."

Shifting her sights to the bottles, she scanned them over for a few seconds, aimed the handguns at at the shiny glass, and did a sort of shaking-lifting motion with them like she was pretending to fire them, slowly turing and alternating between each hand for each bottle. She did this a couple more times before taking in a long breath.

"Alright, I'm ready now."

Ka-pow-pow-pow-pow-pow-pow-pow.

Perfect, first try. Granted, she was standing a lot closer to the bottles than usual, but did she really need to go over it in her head so many times?

"Hey, lass."

"Yes?" She cocked her head to the side slyly, with a praise-craving smile.

"Don't push yourself, yeah?"

She frowned for a second, but then she just stared off to the side for a while. "Yeah, you're right. Maybe I'm taking this too seriously."

"Huh? You serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious that I'm too serious."

"Seriously?"

"F-fuck off, Rackham..." She said after a short chuckle. I had no idea what'd gotten into the girl, but if acting up brought a smile to her face like that, who cares? "I'm just hesitant to look undisciplined, so I never get a chance to mess around like you do."

"Hey, I don't mess around much."

"That's because you only mess with me, Rackham."

"Aw, so sorry."

She rolled her eyes. "Look, I don't know how to segway into this, but I'm bored of this tightly structured bottle shooting game, can we do something more free like you always do in your spare time? I don't mean watching television, just some hiking or hunting or camping arrangement."

"... Does all three sound good?"

"Yes, please!~" Her eyes sparkled, then in a blink of an eye, went blank and restricted as they always were. "I-I look forward to seeing you there."

I was lying to Cody when I said I was wearing my casual outfit. While that costume isn't meant to be historically accurate, and hence it isn't my professional gear... It certainly takes a lot of time to button up properly compared to a shirt and jeans, where you only have to deal with one button and a zip. I figured I'd wear a black grey shirt, since a white shirt would inevitably show the dirt of the forest a lot more... Although I'd be wearing a jacket to fight off the English winter, so my shirt choice was actually quite pointless. Nevertheless, I did my part in terms of preparations, bringing a hunting rifle and a tent, plus instructions for setting it up, in case I forget. I mean, sure, Cody could probably just help me with that, but I don't want help, okay?

No need to bring food, though. We'll hunt something down for ourselves without a hitch.

... Okay, maybe I'll bring a few marshmallows. It's not that I'm scared we won't find any food, it's just... Tasty.

Anyways, I showed up at the entrance to the forest, punctual as always, and Cody got there two minutes late. I almost chastised him for that, before remembering that'd be against the entire point of going out into the woods in the first place. Relax, Mary, relax...

But judging from how Cody looked, maybe I was relaxing too much. He was dressed in camo, all sorts of straps running along him, holding his supplies far more easily than my measly backpack. I was carrying my rifle in my hands, his was easily strapped to the back, and it looked far more advanced than mine, sniper scope and all, and he even had night vision goggles, wasn't that going overboard?! The only article left from his usual getup was the signature raccoon hat, which was fitting for the winter, but come to think of it, he kept it on through summer as well...

"You look a little lost, partner."

"I-I'm just impressed. That's all."

Without much dilly-dallying, we began our journey. Cody immediately had us go off from the set path, declaring that we were supposed to blaze our on trail if we were to get the 'authentic experience'. I'm fine with that, of course, I'm not scared of getting lost.

... Primarily because he brought a GPS.

"This is state of the art technology," he explained as we trodded, "there's a certified 0% chance of the device failing."

"Rackham, I swear, you just jinxed the bloody thing. I-it's going to fail any moment now, isn't it?"

We both stop in place, and wait a minute, doing literally nothing. After the minute passes, Cody looks at the GPS and nods.

"Still working."

"A-alright. Good."

I certainly wasn't used to the crunch of leaves under my boots, being adjusted to a lifetime of open field re-enactments and solid floors in buildings. The novelty of it stopped things from getting monotonous, and the occasional birdsong was a more than welcome fanfare through the silence. I can't say I was prepared for just how long it'd be working, but any soldier worth their weight in dirt should be able to march for an hour or two without getting tired.

I was banking on the walk only being an hour or two long, anyway.

"Is there any specific place we're going, Rackham?"

"Nope. We're just headin' out."

"Heading out?... We'll just end up on the other side of the forest if we do that."

"What? It's not like I said we'd be heading out forever."

"Then when are we stopping?"

"When we spot a buck. Or a doe, if it starts gettin' late. You ever tried venison?"

"Have you?"

Cody stifled a round of laughter. "What, like I've never done this before?"

"W-well I don't know, maybe you just shot pheasants and rabbits every other time you've been here."

The trudging of leaves stopped, as Cody turned his head to me with wide eyes.

"What in tarnation... How'd you know?..."

"... Don't tell me." I grinned. "You've actually never shot down a deer before?"

He stared at me with shame, until...

"Bahahaha, really?! You actually believed me, that's, ahah, that's too much!"

"... Whuh?"

"I've, hah, I've never let you into my room before, huh? I literally have a buck head trophy above my bed, haha... As if I'd never shot a deer in my life, oh wow, I'm gonna remember that for a while." He looked at me again, and his smile drooped away. "Aw, you're mad at me, huh?"

"I don't appreciate the dishonesty."

"Yeah, and if I was actually being honest, you'd be laughin' at me instead. Not that I'd be ticked off about it."

I tried to think of some kind of comeback, but honestly, he was right. It's not like I had no sense of humour, it was just that I couldn't handle being the target of the joke... But I wasn't going to change that! I am a capable professional who deserves only respect!... But so is Cody. Deary me, maybe I was doing something wrong. My entire reason for coming out here was to stop being so tightened up and serious, and yet all I could do was worry and complain. Perhaps it was in my nature.

Well, if it's my nature to be disciplined and optimised, then it's hardly a bad thing!

The two of us froze where we were. There was a clearing, and under the orange sky revealed to us there was a grazing buck, sporting antlers that could support the heavens. A magnificent beast - but there was not a second to appreciate it. I wasn't going to let myself go hungry tonight, not after such a long journey that left my legs collapsing where they were, the strained muscles twitching in heat. So, the moment I felt myself steady in place, my breaths getting less heavy, disguised in the rustling leaves, I raised my rifle, directed it at the deer, and, in two blinks of its eye, an instant bullet. In that instant, as the sound scared birds out of the trees, the buck raised its head, the legs straightening out, ready to bring it to the ends of the Earth if need be, but all for naught. The very next instant, it fell to the grass.

"Huh, that was pretty sharp." commented Cody.

"Duh." I said, my breath growing heavy once more. "Do you know how long we've been walking now?"

"Nope, how long?"

"I'm asking you. I didn't bring any phone or clock or whatever. Your GPS has the time on it, right?"

"Nope, not like we need it. The time's up there." I briefly brought my attention to Cody's finger, which gestured to the sky, and the sun that was making its way to the western horizon. "Honestly, we've got a lot to do with not a lot of time. That's fine, though. Adversity builds character."

"Yeah." I locked my eyes back on the buck, despite the fact that it wasn't going anywhere. Gradually, I lowered my rifle, still staring it down.

... It's dead. I killed it.

"Hey, everything okay?"

"Yes." I pulled my attention from the corpse again. Cody looked worried - ugh, don't pity me, goddamnit. "I've just never taken another life before. I'm fine, I just never really gave it any thought until now."

"You're used to playin' pretend, huh."

"Th-this isn't the time to tease me, Rackham!..."

"Nah, nope, I'm not even tryin' to poke fun at you. It's just the truth, you've never known what it's like to actually shoot a live round at a living thing. It's just a little thought provoking."

"... Okay, I guess it is. But I'm over it now. See? Over it." I pointed at my face, and put all my energy into strengthening my expression into an impenetrable steel seriousness.

"I believe you."

"I-if you believed me, you wouldn't have to say so!"

"Hey, easy now. If you're really uncomfortable with it, you can work on gettin' us some firewood before nightfall. That way, you won't have to see me cuttin' the venison off the body."

"Ack-" I snatch my mouth shut, not wanting to show any form of weakness, weakness of stomach included.

"Yeah, it's not a nice sight, but the end result ain't nearly as nasty."

"Th-then I'll try and work my appetite back up for dinner, I guess..."

"You'd better. It's seriously good tucker, you won't regret digging in. Not one bit." He was smiling really widely, his mind engulfed in a world of wild animal meat. It was a bit strange, but I had no reason not to believe him. Yummy meat. Couldn't wait.

Cody handed me the GPS, and we agreed to meet back at the clearing once the sun set. He promised that the excess remains would be cleared away with the venison cleanly cut and sorted into the black bowl where it belonged, suspended and roasting over the fire. Damn, now my mind was being engulfed in the meat world. Working up an appetite was a lot easier than expected.

... But I still had to work.

Although I had studied how warfare was conducted throughout history, I always specialised in enormous, glorious battlefields - the survival skills that would come with knowledge of guerilla warfare would've come in handy, but I had no such skills to speak of.

... Haha, gorilla warfare.

Now that I was on my own for a bit, I'd have to make do on my own in spotting logs. Spotting logs, never thought I'd find myself doing that.

... What a boring thing to think about.

This was very boring. It was just more walking. Maybe Cody could've told me that we'd need firewood so we'd remember to just pick some up on the way to the deer? I bet he was just doing this to give me extra work so I could prove myself to him or something.

... A SOLDIER NEVER REFUSES A CHALLENGE!

With enough time, I happened upon a couple little logs by a fallen tree, about time. I wasn't sure how many I'd need, but if sundown marked my time limit, I figured I was supposed to just get as much wood as I could, or at least as much as I could carry. They were heavier than expected, just my luck. I had to put them down again to look at the GPS and figure out how to get back to the clearing, in fact, I had to put them down and pick them up again every time I wanted to check if I was still going the right way, which shouldn't have been a problem if I hadn't already been walking for hours on end. It was a little easier knowing the end was in sight, but whatever, complaining to the silent forest wouldn't speed anything up.

The fire'd been started, crackle crackle, beautiful steaming meat waiting in its pot as stars struck the sky.

"Dinner is served." I announce to the lass as I present her with the best venison I could muster. "It's the little things like that that make the country so great."

She nodded and took the plate off from me, setting it aside as she lied around in the grass.

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

I smiled, acknowledging the disappearance of her standoffish nature, and sat cross legged with my own plate in hand. It's some quality grub, definitely, but I decided to wait a bit before digging in - I gotta see how Mary reacts when she tastes it, and I don't wanna get caught up in tasting it myself before then. It was always a treat to see her happy about something, happy enough to show it, at least. Lucky me, this was one of those times, a faint smile after swallowing the first bite.

"Mh... Very good... A tasty beast..."

The girl was acting like a completely different person, but was it because she was tired, or was the meat just that nice? There wasn't any time for me to put herbs or seasoning in the mix, so it's not like it was my best creation, but... Ah, screw it, I'm overthinking this, let's just bite the damn thing.

... Whoa. This stuff's sharp.

"Thish ish good shtuff."

"Don't speak with food in your mouth, Rackham..."

"Shorry."

I gulped down my mouthful, definitely good stuff. If you're expecting some sort of in-depth description of why the food was good or if i'd give myself a pass if I was on a cooking show, you won't find that from me. Good food is good, and bad food is bad. I know it when I eat it, and that's always going to be enough for me.

"There's a certain musk to this..." Mary began, "An earthy flavour... And the texture, it seems to glide over the tongue like a manta ray..."

"You're not makin' a lick of sense, lass."

"Ahah, maybe I'm not supposed to put a sophisticated lens over plain, cooked meat... It's a habit of mine..."

"Gotcha. Guess I'll add cinnamon next time."

"Cinema?..."

"No, cinnamon."

Mary didn't respond, so I continued my meal. Good, good stuff, the taste doesn't even get boring or repetitive. Halfway through with no more chatting, I sensed something was off, and I looked at Mary again. Her plate was just as full as it had been before, with its single bite carving into it.

"Ah, you don't actually like it, huh?"

"No, it's fine." She said, before taking another bite.

"I promise I'll bring cinnamon next time."

"Don't bother. I don't need it."

"So you like it?"

"Yes." She said, the quietest I've ever heard her.

"So there's some other sorta problem, ain't there?"

"I won't talk about it."

"Alright, I won't ask again, just don't let your food go cold."

I went back to eating, and so did she, although she didn't chew it nearly as fast as I did. By the time I had finished, she wasn't halfway through. Something told me I shouldn't speak up about her clearly sorrowful look, especially since I told her I wouldn't ask any more, so I waited. Once she did reach the halfway point in her meal, she slowly looked up at me and put her plate on the ground.

"Please ask."

"Ask what? I thought you weren't going to talk about it."

"I don't need to talk about it. It's not your job to hear it, so I can only talk about it if you want me to. Otherwise I'm being weak." She leaned closer to me and glared. "So ask me what's wrong. Now."

"Pshh, okay, sure. But hey, just so you know, you don't need to act stoic 24/7 around me, y'hear? Just because you pretend to be a soldier for a living, doesn't mean you aren't allowed to be open about anything."

"Well, you never open up to me about your problems."

"I was trained not to." I snapped, before noticing my tone get super threatening all of a sudden. Mary seems unfazed, but I quickly dial it back anyway. "... You might know how to fake being a soldier, but my old man sent me off to be made into a real one. Not that I minded being thrown away." I paused, and leaned back, trying to clear my brain of any foggy emotions. So I took a look at the fire, jittering in place. Listening to the crackles. "... Military school's not hell on Earth. They can't throw a kid in an actual boot camp, so they just push you as much as they can without breaking the law or whatever. They still choke the freedom out of you as much as they can, duh, so you were toast if you were caught talking about feelings and other junk like that."

"Alright, thanks for talking about your feelings." Mary responded with a smirk.

"H-hey, that ain't fair! You tricked me!" I managed to get out between laughs. "Ah well, at least you're lookin' chipper. Do you still need to talk about your troubles, or are we all good?"

"Meh, I should try and finish my dinner first."

"Sharp thinkin'."

A little more time passed, dinners were finished, and we got our sleeping bags out and ready. Mary shared her bag of marshmallows with me, and we warmed them, naturally using the stick-over-fire combo. The lass looked so stoked about it, too, she was basically possessed by a marshmallow spirit. So many smiles in one night.

Mary yawned and said, "I guess I'll talk about why I was silent earlier?"

"Do what ya want."

"Well, when I was a kid, I watched this movie about some war, I don't remember which one or the name of the movie. It was pretty cool, I guess. When I left the cinema, I got a phone call from the hospital. My father died in a car crash." She shrugged. "That's about it. It's not a big deal."

The fire crackled some more, slightly quieter.

"You're saying it didn't effect you at all?"

"Well, it's sad when anybody dies, sure. The man didn't really get anything done, though. He was unemployed and spent the dole blowing his mind out. My mother was a wreck, too, so I had to handle most of the housework." She stopped to eat a marshmallow, her demeanour instantly changing to enjoyment. "But it wasn't a big deal. Having so much to do made me a stronger person than either of them ever were. That's what matters."

Mary said those last few sentences with a smile, while her eyes drooped and twitched closer to sleep.

... Is that what strength meant to her? Just getting things done and never showing vulnerability?

... Wait, what did strength even mean to me?...

... It was getting late.

"So things are fine?"

"Perfectly fine, Rackham."

"Nice. Look after yourself, lass."

"I-I don't need your pity..." She said with a yawn, grabbing her sleeping bag. "... But thanks, anyway."