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DRT1.4.8-9: Me and the School and I (The First Half), sections 8-9
(FYI, not only did I tweak last week's translation a bit after it was posted to fix a stupid mistake, I also tweaked the one before that because it's referenced in this section and I realized I made a real stupid mistake there too, and also the very first section of the novel because I've been meaning to tweak that for a while now after reading Volume 2, and thought I should do it while I was doing everything else.)
Find previous chapters at the Navigation Index.
Danganronpa Togami Volume 1: Multiple Counts of Attempted World Domination
Chapter 4: Me and the School and I (The First Half)
8
The town was, shall I say, done for.
The roads had been ripped out of place, and the few buildings that weren't completely destroyed were half destroyed. The telephone poles were completely broken, and though I couldn't tell what had started the fires, I could see things burning here and there off to the side of the road.
The people? Dead. All of them. If their flesh wasn't currently burning, it had been scattered in chunks to the four winds. It smelled terrible—this was the smell of roasted human beings. My stomach heaved again and again in visceral rejection.
The black smoke hanging overhead and the dark flecks floating in the air colored the wrecked town, tinting it gloomier and darker. Thick clouds swirled in the sky that hadn't been there before. Looking at this scene was giving me déjà vu. I remembered that I'd seen so many "war videos" on TV that I'd gotten sick of them, and there were enough of these kinds of scenes in them for me to get sick of the scenes themselves, too.
Scorched earth.
The rubble that was now serving as merely something for me to step on seemed to have been part of the local electronics store just a short while ago, and a number of radios were buried under a piece of concrete. Byakuya Togami's voice echoed from the mostly-broken radios in unison. "I have ...ed... my ... as I have ...d, I ... shown you proof ... That ... your punishment for yo... crimes. I ... with a ... heart, ... intend to ...tinue the game ..."
I headed back to the car.
Aoba hadn't stopped bleeding.
There was nothing I could do before leaving town except for somehow managing to tie one of the shirts from her luggage into a makeshift bandage. All I could do after that was try and mop up her nosebleed as best as I could. Aoba's hands and mine were red from pressing up against her wound, and the car was stuffy with the metallic stench, which, combined with the car's air freshener, created a despair-inducing smell.
"A-Are you all right?"
No response.
"I told you that you should wear your seatbelt..."
No response.
"We're not gonna make it to the airport like this."
No response.
"Hey, get up. If you don't get up that's, uh, a problem."
No response.
"You worked so hard to be an idol. Getting hurt like this is just a waste..."
Aoba's hand squeezed mine for just an instant.
But even that was enough to make me happy, and I fondly called, "Aoba," without thinking.
"You should have," Aoba said, weakly opening her eyes, "called, my name, a little earlier than that."
"Sorry."
"Hand."
"Huh?"
"Don't touch."
"...Sorry."
"..."
"U-Um, so—"
"..."
"Aoba?"
No response.
Aoba had closed her eyes again.
I heard the sound of an engine off in the distance. A jeep was coming for us. As it was an open-air jeep, I could see the three riders. Four-eyes. Fatty. The girl. The reappearance of the Hope's Peak Academy Affiliated Junior High School Mystery Research Society.
The jeep stopped right in front of me. "Are you going to be okay with that equipment?" The President looked down at us. "It seems like you were having fun running away together, but this world is all about survival. You know what they always say: no one knows what the future holds. Do you know how many times Conan-kun 'just so happened upon' a murder case?"[1]
"S-Save us!"
"Save you, you say?"
"This girl is dying. She's lost a lot of blood, and I don't know what to do anymore..."
"I can't imagine the number of casualties there must be in this town after it had a satellite dropped right on it. And yet, even under those circumstances, you have the audacity to ask us to save you. What, do you see Florence Nightingale riding in this jeep?"
"Yeowchhh." The Vice President narrowed his eyes in disgust from the passenger's seat. "Satomi Aoba, just look at all the blood you're spillin'. That's just gross. You can't be an idol after that."
I wanted to flip out over his careless, heartless thinking, but I couldn't really throw stones when I myself had thought, "So even idols get nosebleeds."
"Haahhh. So this is the end of Satomi Aoba? Bleedin' out?" the Vice President continued. "Well, whatevs. I can switch to the #3 girl in the rankings."
"All ri-hi-hiiiight~! It's an upgrade to a better model! Exciting." The Treasurer swung her legs around wildly from where they extended from under her skirt.
These guys were having fun with whatever. They were acting like they didn't think of me or Aoba or even the hellish landscape stretching out around us as anything more than an event at an amusement park. I couldn't get through to them. But hadn't I known that from the start? Hadn't I known that from the first time I'd met them?
"Now then," the President said, hopping out of the jeep. "You must be having a hard time. It must be hard when you're dissatisfied in life, you can't save the girl, and even though you're getting up there in years, you still haven't accomplished anything. Even when the world has become ruled by that which is out of the ordinary, your boring ordinary life continues. All that exists for you right now is the usual. But, funny story... perhaps that's not actually that agonizing for you?"
"...Ha!"
"Hmm?"
"Y... You're just from an affiliated school!" I tried to make my voice sound as threatening as possible. "I don't have to listen to anything you have to say. I'm rejecting that lifestyle."
"Nice. Good rebellious energy. You're pure hatred balled up and stuck together."
"Sh-Shut up."
"Do you know why narcotics are banned?"
"Huh?"
"Slaves during the age of America's pioneers would work while high on coca leaves and their ilk, so that they could do their job without stopping. But then that made white laborers uneasy, and they used morals as a pretext to ban it. The logic that framed it as a matter of right or wrong was nothing more than the official stance created after the fact."
"So what?"
"I'm saying that those who have lost patience with the world and those who are dissatisfied with the world may as well keep chewing and chewing on a heap of narcotics. Vice President, the item in question, if you would."
As instructed, the Vice President tossed something out of the jeep's luggage compartment.
It fell to the ground.
It looked like average print-outs stapled together in an average way, like a cheap amateur publication, but I was able to see through it immediately to sense the thrall—the darkness it exuded. I was unfortunately able to.
I knew. The world knew.
"Here's the book of the month," said the President.
It was the Despair Novel, of course.
9
Despair. There, I found despair. A lone body carelessly discarded in the center of the campus.
It was Byakuya-sama's corpse.
Translator's Notes
[1] Conan-kun - naturally, this is a reference to the obscenely long-running mystery manga Detective Conan. In the tradition of the mystery genre, murder cases just seem to coincidentally happen in the detective's proximity.
Stay tuned for the start of the final chapter next Sunday (PST)!
Feel free to comment, keeping these rules in mind!
Find previous chapters at the Navigation Index.
Danganronpa Togami Volume 1: Multiple Counts of Attempted World Domination
Chapter 4: Me and the School and I (The First Half)
8
The town was, shall I say, done for.
The roads had been ripped out of place, and the few buildings that weren't completely destroyed were half destroyed. The telephone poles were completely broken, and though I couldn't tell what had started the fires, I could see things burning here and there off to the side of the road.
The people? Dead. All of them. If their flesh wasn't currently burning, it had been scattered in chunks to the four winds. It smelled terrible—this was the smell of roasted human beings. My stomach heaved again and again in visceral rejection.
The black smoke hanging overhead and the dark flecks floating in the air colored the wrecked town, tinting it gloomier and darker. Thick clouds swirled in the sky that hadn't been there before. Looking at this scene was giving me déjà vu. I remembered that I'd seen so many "war videos" on TV that I'd gotten sick of them, and there were enough of these kinds of scenes in them for me to get sick of the scenes themselves, too.
Scorched earth.
The rubble that was now serving as merely something for me to step on seemed to have been part of the local electronics store just a short while ago, and a number of radios were buried under a piece of concrete. Byakuya Togami's voice echoed from the mostly-broken radios in unison. "I have ...ed... my ... as I have ...d, I ... shown you proof ... That ... your punishment for yo... crimes. I ... with a ... heart, ... intend to ...tinue the game ..."
I headed back to the car.
Aoba hadn't stopped bleeding.
There was nothing I could do before leaving town except for somehow managing to tie one of the shirts from her luggage into a makeshift bandage. All I could do after that was try and mop up her nosebleed as best as I could. Aoba's hands and mine were red from pressing up against her wound, and the car was stuffy with the metallic stench, which, combined with the car's air freshener, created a despair-inducing smell.
"A-Are you all right?"
No response.
"I told you that you should wear your seatbelt..."
No response.
"We're not gonna make it to the airport like this."
No response.
"Hey, get up. If you don't get up that's, uh, a problem."
No response.
"You worked so hard to be an idol. Getting hurt like this is just a waste..."
Aoba's hand squeezed mine for just an instant.
But even that was enough to make me happy, and I fondly called, "Aoba," without thinking.
"You should have," Aoba said, weakly opening her eyes, "called, my name, a little earlier than that."
"Sorry."
"Hand."
"Huh?"
"Don't touch."
"...Sorry."
"..."
"U-Um, so—"
"..."
"Aoba?"
No response.
Aoba had closed her eyes again.
I heard the sound of an engine off in the distance. A jeep was coming for us. As it was an open-air jeep, I could see the three riders. Four-eyes. Fatty. The girl. The reappearance of the Hope's Peak Academy Affiliated Junior High School Mystery Research Society.
The jeep stopped right in front of me. "Are you going to be okay with that equipment?" The President looked down at us. "It seems like you were having fun running away together, but this world is all about survival. You know what they always say: no one knows what the future holds. Do you know how many times Conan-kun 'just so happened upon' a murder case?"[1]
"S-Save us!"
"Save you, you say?"
"This girl is dying. She's lost a lot of blood, and I don't know what to do anymore..."
"I can't imagine the number of casualties there must be in this town after it had a satellite dropped right on it. And yet, even under those circumstances, you have the audacity to ask us to save you. What, do you see Florence Nightingale riding in this jeep?"
"Yeowchhh." The Vice President narrowed his eyes in disgust from the passenger's seat. "Satomi Aoba, just look at all the blood you're spillin'. That's just gross. You can't be an idol after that."
I wanted to flip out over his careless, heartless thinking, but I couldn't really throw stones when I myself had thought, "So even idols get nosebleeds."
"Haahhh. So this is the end of Satomi Aoba? Bleedin' out?" the Vice President continued. "Well, whatevs. I can switch to the #3 girl in the rankings."
"All ri-hi-hiiiight~! It's an upgrade to a better model! Exciting." The Treasurer swung her legs around wildly from where they extended from under her skirt.
These guys were having fun with whatever. They were acting like they didn't think of me or Aoba or even the hellish landscape stretching out around us as anything more than an event at an amusement park. I couldn't get through to them. But hadn't I known that from the start? Hadn't I known that from the first time I'd met them?
"Now then," the President said, hopping out of the jeep. "You must be having a hard time. It must be hard when you're dissatisfied in life, you can't save the girl, and even though you're getting up there in years, you still haven't accomplished anything. Even when the world has become ruled by that which is out of the ordinary, your boring ordinary life continues. All that exists for you right now is the usual. But, funny story... perhaps that's not actually that agonizing for you?"
"...Ha!"
"Hmm?"
"Y... You're just from an affiliated school!" I tried to make my voice sound as threatening as possible. "I don't have to listen to anything you have to say. I'm rejecting that lifestyle."
"Nice. Good rebellious energy. You're pure hatred balled up and stuck together."
"Sh-Shut up."
"Do you know why narcotics are banned?"
"Huh?"
"Slaves during the age of America's pioneers would work while high on coca leaves and their ilk, so that they could do their job without stopping. But then that made white laborers uneasy, and they used morals as a pretext to ban it. The logic that framed it as a matter of right or wrong was nothing more than the official stance created after the fact."
"So what?"
"I'm saying that those who have lost patience with the world and those who are dissatisfied with the world may as well keep chewing and chewing on a heap of narcotics. Vice President, the item in question, if you would."
As instructed, the Vice President tossed something out of the jeep's luggage compartment.
It fell to the ground.
It looked like average print-outs stapled together in an average way, like a cheap amateur publication, but I was able to see through it immediately to sense the thrall—the darkness it exuded. I was unfortunately able to.
I knew. The world knew.
"Here's the book of the month," said the President.
It was the Despair Novel, of course.
9
Despair. There, I found despair. A lone body carelessly discarded in the center of the campus.
It was Byakuya-sama's corpse.
Translator's Notes
[1] Conan-kun - naturally, this is a reference to the obscenely long-running mystery manga Detective Conan. In the tradition of the mystery genre, murder cases just seem to coincidentally happen in the detective's proximity.
Stay tuned for the start of the final chapter next Sunday (PST)!
Feel free to comment, keeping these rules in mind!