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Nobody was surprised when Mikan got sick. Because this was Jabberwock Island, and life was a fucking nightmare.
Hajime had been dreading the Ultimate Nurse getting the Despair Disease since they’d started quarantining in the hospital. Monokuma bragged and puhuhu-ed plenty about how contagious the disease was, and nobody was closer to the patients than Mikan. She was keeping vigil over Akane, Ibuki, Nagito — the whole mad tea party — plus making sure Fuyuhiko didn’t wreck his stitches again. Hajime didn’t have a clue how to handle her job. God, don’t make him have to deal with Komaeda’s riddles three on his own.
Unfortunately, a couple days into the outbreak, Mikan’s time came. She was reassuring Akane that she wasn’t going to die (for the thousandth time that day) when she had to pause mid-sentence to cough. Hajime saw her eyes go wide and panicked as the fit didn’t stop. He followed closely after her as she hurried out of Akane’s room.
Mikan sat down on one of the hospital benches and slumped against the grimy plaster wall with a miserable expression. She clasped her hands together, twisting her spare bandages. Her shoulders shook as her coughing continued.
“...Do you want some water?” Hajime asked. He didn’t know how much good it would do, but he wanted to do something to help.
Mikan shook her head. She murmured something too quiet for Hajime to hear.
Hajime leaned closer to her. “What did you say?”
She took a deep breath. “I’m—I’m okay. I can get my own water, or at least I can right now,” tears gathered in Mikan’s eyes, “Um. In advance, I want to say…I’m so sorry that I won’t be able to help you anymore.”
Hajime let out a heavy sigh. Both because he still didn’t know how to talk her out of the self-deprecation, and because he wasn’t looking forward to the work ahead of him. He’d do it! But christ alive.
“You’re sure this is Despair Disease?”
“I’m pretty sure. The onset time was really — I mean, it worked fast. I was fine an hour ago, and now I think I’ve already got a small fever.” She dropped her head into her hands. “You should probably get away from me.”
Hajime backed up a few steps, but kept his eyes on Mikan. She didn’t look that feverish to him. How fast would that change? And what would Monokuma think the opposite of her personality was? Most of the time, she was meek and kind. Accommodating to a fault. Was the disease going to make her…rude? An asshole? Or something worse?
He tried to tamp down his concerns. Those were problems for later. Right now, Mikan was scared.
“We’ll be okay,” Hajime said, trying to make himself believe it. “I’ve had plenty of time to watch you. I know what to do.”
Mikan’s expression crumpled a little more. “Right. O-Okay. There’s just — there’s a lot to keep track of, and…” her voice went quiet again, trying to crawl into itself, “I thought I’d have more time. This is the only thing I know how to do. And—and maybe if I could have done it longer, you guys would have been able to like me…”
Hajime shifted, trying to find something to say.
“Mikan, Fuyuhiko helped murder someone and people still threw him a party. I think we’re all stuck with each other.”
Mikan forced out a laugh, too high and shaky. She trailed off into another cough.
Soon, she’d shut herself up in a hospital room, and the night shift would begin.
By the next morning, Hajime knew he needed reinforcements. He couldn’t have the patients in the same room because they’d start a feedback loop. Akane would wail I’m never getting better, Nagito would hiss something through his teeth in his fever haze like get better? we’re already dead!, and Ibuki would start trying to float through the walls as a ghost. But keeping them separated wasn’t much better. He’d been rushing from room to room all night. Like a guy from the riddle about taking three things across a river. He was dead on his feet.
Fuyuhiko had tried to help, but he was still recovering from a dozen stab wounds, so. That only worked for so long. Hajime tried to put him on Nagito duty since, if nothing else, he moved around the least. He thought Fuyuhiko could just sit in a chair and make sure Nagito wasn’t immediately dying. Unfortunately, Nagito did what he normally did — saying some bullshit — and Hajime had to haul Fuyuhiko away before he could deck him. Which tore his stitches again.
(Turns out, Peko died for no reason was a sentence which came across badly as the truth and even worse as a lie.)
So, Hajime yelled out the hospital window that they needed an extra person on their crew. His classmates bickered amongst themselves about who should go, which was a conversation Hajime was happy to miss. Finally, Sonia broke off from the group and went into the hospital with a calm expression and a regal stride.
Hajime met her in the lobby. “Thanks for coming out, Sonia.” He handed her a mask and gloves.
Sonia smiled at him with her weirdly shiny teeth. “Of course! I visit hospitals often, as my duties require. The people of Novaselic take comfort in their princess’s presence,” she then looked to the side, sheepish, “...Though I may have less of a soothing effect on my classmates.”
“You’ll do great. I just hope you don’t get sick,” Hajime said. Then, he winced at himself, worried he’d jinxed it.
She shrugged. “Well, we’re all bound to get sick eventually.” The unspoken unless someone dies floated in the air between them. He nodded, looking away.
Sonia looped her mask over her ears and quickly got to work. She went into Akane’s room, ready to talk her down from one of her panic spirals with the ease and grace expected of a princess. Meanwhile, Hajime went up to Mikan’s room to see how she was doing, only—
Only she wasn’t there.
“MIKAN?” he yelled, brain going a thousand miles a minute. She was dead. She was dead, and they’d have to find her body and do another class trial. He was supposed to be supporting her in the hospital. Why didn’t he check on her more? It only took a thirty second blackout for people to kill Byakuya. He was supposed to support him too. Everyone was going to die, and, god, why did he have to be so terrible at this?
Then, he heard Fuyuhiko’s scratchy voice from down the hall. “She’s in here!” He sounded…definitely not happy, but not as panicked as he’d be if there had been a murder.
As Hajime got closer, he started to hear another voice with Fuyuhiko, speaking at a fast and self-assured clip. Saying something about testing and asymptomatic people. It had to be Mikan, but it didn’t sound like her at all. He burst through the door.
Mikan was pacing around Fuyuhiko’s room with a laser-focused expression. Somehow, she’d found a smart doctor’s coat. Her face was flushed and she swayed on her feet. Still, she kept her head held high.
“Yeah, we need to take out all your stitches. All of ‘em. Now.”
“Absolutely the fuck not,” Fuyuhiko said, trying his best to scramble away from her.
“Um,” Hajime said, looking between them and trying to figure out what fresh hell Jabberwock Island had in store for them today.
At the sound of his voice, Mikan’s head snapped to him. “Hajime, please tell him to listen to me. He’s freaked out because Monokuma said I have the ‘Overconfidence Disease,’” she physically did air quotes around Overconfidence Disease, “But I feel fine!”
“She has a 39° fever and she wants my blood,” Fuyuhiko deadpanned.
“To make a cure, idiot—”
Hajime raised his hands to cut them both off. He wanted to find a hospital cot and sleep for a million years.
“Mikan. Don’t you want to sit down?”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course I do. But I’ll never get through a nursing program if I don’t learn how to push through stuff like this.” Still, her gaze drifted longingly to a chair in the corner before she shook it off. “Don’t you get what the Ultimate Nurse means? I can do twelve hour shifts, and I don’t have to listen to myself, and I can do open-heart surgery right now.”
“Do nurses normally do open-heart surgery?” Hajime whispered to himself.
“I can,” Mikan insisted with the conviction of a thousand suns. She tilted her head to the side. “Oh. Right. I’m on shift. C’mon, Hajime, let’s check on the rest of my patients.”
Hajime quickly agreed to this, as it might get her to leave Fuyuhiko alone. He looked back at him as they left the room. What the fuck, Fuyuhiko mouthed at him. I don’t know, Hajime mouthed back.
How did their tour of the hospital go? Bad. Like everything else. Hajime had to keep Mikan and Ibuki carefully separated, since Ibuki would believe all of Mikan’s wild theories. No use having two people chasing random miracle cures in this place.
Akane, on the other hand, was briefly calmed by Mikan’s confident attitude…but that didn’t last long. Once she realized how hot Mikan’s skin was, she started crying again.
“You’re sick too? Oh my god, we’re doomed,” Akane gasped. She wouldn’t listen to anything Mikan said after that. In case it was ‘Monokuma talking’. Hajime tried his best to stay by her side and make things better, but he knew he didn’t have half of Mikan’s bedside manner. Or Sonia’s, for that matter.
Mikan kept up a rambling, somewhat snarky monologue as they wandered the halls. She went on about how the answer was within her grasp. This disease had nothing on her. She was a great nurse and a great doctor. Hajime did his best to uh-huh and yeah her the whole time.
Finally, they got to the last patient’s room. Hajime relaxed slightly as he heard Sonia’s voice from the other side of the door. At last. Someone reasonable. It might even make up for having to deal with Nagito.
Mikan threw open the door with a rockstar entrance’s flair. She had to lean against the doorframe as it seemed like a wave of dizziness came over her, but she posed a little to make it look like she did it on purpose.
“How’s the patient?” she asked Sonia, who beamed at the sight of her.
Sonia’s smile shrunk as she thought about the question she had to answer. She looked at the hospital bed. “Nagito? Not very well, I’m afraid. The lack of care he’s shown for himself makes it quite difficult for him to fight off an illness.”
Nagito, who looked like he was asleep, didn’t argue the point.
Mikan strolled over to them, with Hajime following quickly behind her. She took a thermometer out of one of her pockets. “Well, that’s what I’m here for.”
The thermometer dropped from her trembling fingers onto the dirty hospital floor. She swooped down to grab it. “Five second rule!” she shouted.
“No!” Hajime shouted back, throwing himself to the ground to get the thermometer first. Monokuma probably painted every surface of the building in, like, tetanus or something.
“I was just kidding. Jeez, Hajime,” she said with an eye roll, “I’m still a professional.”
A few feet away, he could hear Sonia giggle. Mikan shot a grin at her. Hajime crossed his arms. “Okay, just…be careful.”
Mikan stood up, dusting off her knees. “Careful is for people who aren’t the best at this. I’m the best nurse, and I’m the best doctor.” She held out her hand to Sonia, who gave her another thermometer.
“I’m a doctor”, Nagito whispered, in an oddly specific tone of voice. He giggled deliriously, apparently awake after all.
“What,” Hajime asked, before his brain could catch up to him and tell him there was no point.
“I really, really dislike the Saw movies,” Nagito lied. “John Kramer isn’t a cool character at all.”
His temperature was concerning, because of course it was. Mikan grabbed his hand and swore she was going to fix everything. Sonia leaned towards Hajime as they stood aside, watching her.
“Isn’t this exciting? It’s just like If I Turn Around, He’s There, or other such medical dramas!”
…At least someone was happy.
Things continued to unravel from there. Temperatures climbed. Fuyuhiko kept having to be herded back to bed because, no, half a day’s recovery is not enough for reopened wounds. Mikan had to sit down more often to deal with the dizzy spells. Sometimes she tripped, normally, like a normal person would trip.
All the while, Sonia stuck with Mikan. She immediately leapt into the same medical drama mindset as her. They were calling each other Doctor Tsumiki and Doctor Nevermind and laughing about it for what Hajime could only assume was the thrill of committing to the bit. Mikan seemed delighted to have someone listen to her theorizing and contribute more than tired uh-huhs. At least when they were talking about true crime, nobody was getting their blood snatched.
They were holding hands in the corridors. Man, Hajime envied Sonia’s ability to make friends with everyone.
Anyway, things reached a new peak of horrible when Hajime went to check on Nagito again and found him:
- Almost unresponsive,
- With a heart rate speeding like a bullet, and,
- Saying you’re here and I’m alive to Hajime; sentences which were concerning as hell for his brain to count as lies.
So, he ran off to find the others for help.
Hajime burst into the hospital’s break room to find Sonia and Mikan staring deeply into each other’s eyes. For a split second, he worried that they were fighting, since their faces were so close. Then, he reconsidered.
“Do you not normally like me, Mikan?” Sonia asked. “I only worry—the disease is meant to drastically change our personalities. So, if you say I’m pretty now, does that mean you really don’t—?”
“...Guys?” Hajime asked.
Mikan completely ignored him. “Of course I like you all the time, Sonia. Everybody likes you all the time.”
Sonia tucked her hair behind her ear. “So, why only say it now?”
“Hey, guys?” Hajime said slightly louder.
Mikan broke eye contact. “You already have one creep with no shot following you around. You don’t need two. Or that’s what I’m normally thinking, anyway.”
“GUYS!” Hajime yelled. Sonia raised her finger at him in a nice and proper just one moment gesture.
Her expression turned plaintive. “Mikan…I wish I’d gotten to know you better before today.”
Mikan, unable to stay sheepish for long with her disease, looked back. “Me too. Until now I didn’t think we had anything in common. No offense, but I thought you just played croquet and danced in ballrooms.”
Sonia laughed as light as bells. “I do that too.”
With one last burst of confidence, Mikan laced their hands together like they were about to start waltzing. It was tricky with their rubber gloves, but she made it work. They stared into each other’s eyes once more.
“Nagito is dying,” Hajime said.
“This isn’t about him,” Mikan shot back.
Sonia, however, pulled away with a regretful glance. “Sorry, Hajime. We’ll be right there. This has just been a rather shocking day.”
With that, Mikan’s eyes widened. A smile of realization spread across her face. Another Overconfidence Disease eureka moment, Hajime thought with trepidation. She turned to face both of them.
“I know how to cure the Despair Disease!”
The three of them rushed into Nagito’s room, as Mikan rattled on about medical supplies she needed. “We’re going to need defibrillators, and some metal scissors, and a power cord — oh, and could someone get me some chips? I’d like some chips—”
“What’s the plan here?” Hajime asked, wary. Sonia immediately started grabbing things. Nagito looked up at them, slightly less out of it.
Mikan grinned at him. “You won’t like it.” Sonia handed her a pair of scissors and a power cord. “Thanks. Defibrillators?”
Hajime stood between her and the hospital bed. “Mikan, I’m not going to let you do anything until I know it’s not the Despair Disease talking.”
Mikan crossed her arms. “The rules are clear. This disease doesn’t end until someone dies,” she pointed at Nagito, eyes bright, “He needs to die to live!”
“What? No. No fucking way,” Hajime said, trying to put himself between her and Nagito. Sure, Nagito sucked, but…there had been too much killing already. He didn’t want to see anyone else get hurt. He wanted to get off of the island. He wanted to stop being afraid—
A hand grabbed his wrist. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Nagito lied.
Hajime pivoted to face him. He looked frantic, struggling to lift himself off the bed. “She’s—she’s got no clue. Please, stop her. She’s going to kill me.” He stared at Hajime with a desperate, sharp-edged look on his face.
Hajime pulled away. “I…” If he assumed that everything Nagito said right now was a lie, that meant he either knew something Hajime didn’t, or he was still trying to kill himself. Which were equally viable options. Or maybe not? She’s going to kill me was a lie…
“Sorry, are we supposed to…?” Sonia very politely mimed smothering someone with a pillow.
Mikan shook her head. “No. He just has to cut this,” she handed Nagito one end of the plugged in power cord, “with these!” She gave him the metal scissors. “I’ll count you down.”
“I’m not doing it,” Nagito lied as he waited to be told when. He collapsed back onto the bed, an exhausted haze returning in his eyes.
“That’s the spirit,” Mikan said, stepping back with a look of steely pride. “10…9…8…”
Hajime balled his hands into fists. He hoped against hope that he wasn’t making a mistake. That they’d be okay. That something could go right in this horrible place.
“6…5…4…”
Nagito watched Hajime as he faded. He said one more thing, words surely pulled out by the fever. Something he wouldn’t be able to explain later.
“I like you better like this,” Nagito lied, before he snipped through the power cord and electrocuted himself to death.
A body has been discovered!
The second Nagito’s heart stopped, Mikan reeled back. She slapped a hand over her mouth. She shivered in the hospital air conditioner, drenched with sweat but eyes clear.
“Oh my god. Oh god. What did I do?”
Hajime’s heart dropped into his stomach. “You said you had a plan!”
“Yes, I—I did, but my plan was crazy!” Mikan hunched over, starting to hyperventilate.
Sonia gently took one of her hands and placed a defibrillator paddle in the other. As she did, Mikan squeaked at a level only bats could hear. “Ohmygod Sonia. Sonia, I am so, so sorry—”
“It’s more than alright, Mikan, but could you please remind me where we put these?” Sonia held up the other defibrillator paddle. Hajime wondered if she really didn’t know, since she’d spent so much time visiting hospitals. He’d used medical trivia to bring Mikan back from the brink before.
Intentional or not, it was a success. Mikan rushed to Nagito’s side with the defibrillators and got to work. She had to eyeball his heart monitor to choose the level of electricity. It was a long shot. He would have to be very lucky, and she would have to be very good at her job.
He was. She was. With a relief that almost bowled him over, Hajime watched Mikan revive her patient. Nagito sputtered back to life like a fish thrown back into a lake.
After that, Mikan slumped into one of the room’s chairs with a shaky sigh. She ran her hands through her hair, slowly forcing herself to take longer breaths. Sonia stayed by her side. So did Hajime, though for slightly different reasons.
She spoke up. “I…I always thought,” she swallowed, “I thought that if I was more confident than I deserved to be, everybody would hate me.” She looked between them, blushing slightly as her eyes locked on Sonia. “But you—you didn’t?”
“You wore it well,” Sonia said softly.
Hajime cut in. “Mikan, I’m worried for you a lot of the time. Like, most of the time. But I couldn’t hate you for not…shrinking yourself down enough. I mean, I was just freaking out about us saving this asshole’s life,” he waved in Nagito’s direction, who waved back, “I’d have to be stupid to shut you out.” He hoped she wouldn’t try to take anyone else’s blood, but he trusted her enough not to ask that directly.
Instead of forcing a laugh, Mikan’s eyebrows drew together as she really considered what they’d said.
The three of them sat in silence, watching the TV screens. Soon, the mastermind would have to make a call about Mikan breaking their game. Maybe they’d bring the disease back. Maybe they’d just make them execute Nagito for the crime of killing Nagito. But maybe they’d prefer to move on to their next trick instead. Just this once, they might have gotten away with something.
Until the next announcement, Hajime let himself wish for a time on Jabberwock Island where life wasn’t a total nightmare.