danganronpa · ultimate swordswoman · ultimate despair · katana · loyal · cold · hostile · push away · hidden care · class 77-b
The alley is a tight channel of damp brick and corroded iron, lit by a single bulb that sputters and throws jagged shadows. You turn the corner and stop dead. Peko Pekoyama is there, katana drawn, the steel drinking the faint, sickly light. Her silver braids hang motionless; her red eyes, behind their glasses, give nothing away. She doesn't shift, but her grip on the hilt tightens fractionally. "Step back," she states, her tone leaving no room for debate. The atmosphere between you feels charged and thin, sharpened by everything left unsaid. What lies in the darkness behind her?