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dadsbongos · 3 years

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School Worker AU fic(?)

Movie/Game/Show: Danganronpa (just in general) Dynamic: idk fuckin everyone is in their senior year though Warnings: all of the danganronpa cast - unless otherwise specified - is in their senior year of hs Summary: Tsumugi makes a documentary. AU: Hope’s Peak is a shitty public school that makes their senior students work around the district in self-made or pre-existing programs in order to earn a crucial credit they need for graduation. A lot of the students want a “raise” in their wages because of the work they do, even though “raise” just means any money at all. ~~~

Maki twirled a long strand of her brown hair around her finger, eyes flickering over it boredly, “Yeah, I want to get paid for this.”

Kaito’s eyes widened, an uneasy smile crossing over his lips and nervously looking between his girlfriend and the camera, “Oh, c’mon, Maki-roll, it’s not about money! It’s about the kids!”

“It’s about the money,” Maki glared at the camera, “Pay me.”

“How do I feel about being paid?” Kaede giggled nervously, looking to her other two bandmates, “Well, it’s not about the money, we like playing for kids and the elderly.”

“Ibuki mostly agrees,” the girl with wildly multi-colored began, “However, Ibuki would also like to be paid for our hard work.”

Sayaka nodded shyly, a small smile on her lips, “I like working for the kids and elderly, but I also would like to have said work rewarded, if I could.”

“Yeah,” Hajime picked up yet another empty plastic water bottle with a gloved hand as he responded to the question, “I would love to get paid but nobody gives a shit about the kids cleaning.”

Chiaki, who wasn’t even holding her trash bag - preferring to have her face stuffed into her handheld, “Not paying us is the school’s way of preparing us for the years of unpaid extraneous labor ahead of us in an adult working environment… I think.”

“I should be gettin’ fuckin’ paid,” Mondo grit his teeth, no longer soaping up his math teacher’s car with Kazuichi and just looking at the camera, “I don’t get stared at by those fuckers,” he jabbed a thumb in the direction of a small gaggle of giggling freshman, “for free. I hate this shit.”

Kazuichi nodded, “I don’t even get to remodel the cars! I just wash them, that’s so lame!”

“Duh - yeah, I wanna get paid!” Junko scoffed, rolling her eyes, “What am I? Twelve? I don’t do this shit for nothing!”

Mukuro sighed quietly, practically elbow deep in the dirt, “You don’t do anything…”

“The hell did you say to me, you fat, ugly, skank?” the blond pressed a stiletto boot into her sister’s back, shoving her face-first into the flower beds Mukuro would now have to redo.

“So,” Tsumugi Shirogane held a mic to her mouth as she stared into the camera, “with so many students demanding a raise in wages, which would mean any wages at all, let’s get to the core issue of why these students feel that their work is so reward-worthy.”

A few feet away, Mikan was watching the hostess of the documentary with nervous eyes, her heart racing as she turned to Rantaro, “Oh my God, is she g-gonna ask us questions? I’m n-not good at speaking. I-I’ll stutter and mum-mumble and she’ll ask me to re-repeat myself, oh God…”

“Hey,” Rantaro gave the girl a small smile, carefully setting his hand on her shoulder, “it’ll be okay. I can do most of the talking, if you want?”

Mikan nodded shakily, fingers intertwining and scrambling apart repeatedly, “Th-that would be p-preferred, tha-thank you…”

As Tsumugi crossed towards the students, she stuck a microphone into Rantaro’s face first, thankfully. Quick to the point, she asked him the question of the segment, “Why, exactly, do you think your work is worth the funding of payment?”

“We do basically the same amount of work that the ordinary school nurse does under regulation and we’re certain our efforts are worthy of payment,” in order to avoid the awkwardness of Tsumugi having to ask Mikan, he gestured to his partner in nursing, “We both are.”

Nodding, Tsumugi moved to place the microphone into Mikan’s face anyway, “And your thoughts?”

“Uhhhh,” Mikan froze up, patting the tips of her fingers into each other, “y-yeah?”

“Yeah, what?”

“Yeah with Rantaro…”

Tsumugi blinked at the girl, standing there for a minute before slowly nodding and turning back to the camera to continue her segment.

Mikan turned to Rantaro with wide eyes, tears already bubbling at her waterline, “Oh my God… I just did that… I just- I - oh my God…”

Rantaro nodded, crossing his arms with a pitying smile, “Yeah, that was pretty bad.”

A loud, resounding thud was the opening sound of the shot, a girl landing flat on her back on a gym mat is the scene. The gymnasium is filled with a multitude of students in fighting stance - a tall girl with red eyes and a short boy with blond hair standing at the front.

Tsumugi narrowly dodges stray hits and flying bodies being tossed over shoulders as she approaches the two senior students. She judges how confrontational they both look and decides to not hastily jam her mic into either of their faces as she asks, “And what is the program you two have picked up for your required credit?”

Peko doesn’t look away from the students as she answers, “Self-defense.”

Fuyuhiko nods, “Any-fuckin’-body can sign up but most of these kids are girls and LGBT+. They’re who mostly comes.”

“Which is a whole different problem on its own,” Peko added, “The fact that they feel the need to learn self-defense rather than trust that nobody will try attacking them for simply walking down the street is rather saddening.”

“Oh, well that’s incredibly noble of you,” Tsumugi breathed out, slightly surprised - she hadn’t expected such mean-looking students to care so much

“Someone has to beat up scumbags,” the taller of the pair shrugged, “My arms were getting tired.”

“Right…” Tsumugi nodded, “uh, you two share this gym with another group, correct?”

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” Fuyuhiko glanced to one of the clocks encaged on the wall, “They should be back in- “

“We’re here for the gym!” a voice boomed out in the space, “Move out!”

“No!” Fuyuhiko shook his head, charging towards the pair and the volleyball team they were coaching that day, he jammed a finger into the girl’s shoulder, “You asshats are always too early! Peko and I got another ten minutes, at least!”

“Well, they need the gym now!” Akane gestured to the team, which was awkwardly standing around and waiting for the approval of Nekomaru and Akane to spread out to the gym, “‘Sides, it’s just five minutes!”

“Eight, now,” the blond crossed his arms, “They continue, you guys wait your turn.”

Seeing no soon-to-come resolution from the pair, Nekomaru moved past Fuyuhiko and Akane as they argued and towards Peko at the front. He rubbed the back of his neck, “We really need the gym right now. You can take our last ten minutes tomorrow if that’d be fair.”

Thinking over the proposal, Peko nodded before picking up the whistle from around her neck and blowing into it before calling to the self-defense class, “Alright, dress out and head home! Remember what you’ve learned and stay safe! Tomorrow, we’ll be meeting out by the baseball field!”

Fuyuhiko sighed, clenching his eyes shut to avoid looking at Akane’s smug grin, “You’re lucky Peko stepped in or I would’ve laid your ass out on the mat.”

“Whatever you say, baby face,” the girl snickered, strolling by to join Nekomaru’s side.

“What did you call me?!”

Tsumugi looked to the new faces, “Do you two fight like that often?”

Akane nodded confidently, “Constantly!”

Sighing, Nekomaru lowered his head, “That’s not a brag.”

“And you two do what around the school?”

“We pick up the school’s teams when the coaches are busy,” Akane pat her outrageously buff partner’s back, “You should see coach Nekomaru out there! He’s like a pro!”

“Well, that’s certainly something!” Tsumugi giggled, “And I can assume you two want to be paid for your efforts?”

“We’re supposed to be paid for this?!”

“Oh my God, leave us alone, you guys are so mean, assholes!”

“Don’t say that, we’re on school grounds! A teacher could walk by at any time!”

“Can you two please be quiet? They’re not even responding to you at this point.”

“We must focus on this column entry!”

“Y-yeah… so s-stop bothering us…”

Tsumugi hesitated, looking at the camera with furrowed brows, “Do we even want to go in?”

The camera shifted with the director’s nodding, the girl sighing loudly before quietly agreeing and pushing the door open to see a classroom with only five people in it. A short boy with untamed purple hair being held back from clawing at the back of a girl with long braids and glasses by another boy with greenish hair… God, what color was that?

Another girl looked up from the desk she was sitting at, “Are you here for the documentary on student payment for their work efforts involving school credit?”

“Yes, I am,” Tsumugi was incredibly tempted to lie, say she got lost, and run out - but she didn’t. Instead, she asked them to introduce themselves.

“Kyoko Kirigiri,” the girl at the desk introduced herself with a solid nod before returning to her work.

The boy holding back his friend finally managed to calm the purple-haired one down before shyly waving, “Shuichi Saihara,” to prevent the other boy from talking, Shuichi clapped a hand over his mouth with an exhausted look, “This is Kokichi Ouma. Us three solve ‘mysteries’ around school, it’s mostly just stolen items. They,” he pointed to the pair on the other side of the room, “write the school newspaper.”

Kokichi managed to release himself from Shuichi’s grasp, immediately rushing towards Tsumugi and grabbing her long skirt between his hands and throttling her, “Help! They’ve kidnapped me! I’m being held against my will!”

“Ah!” Tsumugi screamed, looking up to Shuichi, “What is he talking about?!”

“He’s a liar,” Kyoko piped up, “He’s annoying but he gets the job done quickly so I haven’t kicked him out yet.”

The girl across the room huffed, “C-can you s-shut up over there? And you,” she pointed at Tsumugi, “hurry up and get over here s-so we can get b-back to work…”

“Right,” she nodded slowly before going over to the pair, “You two write the newspaper, that must include some interesting stories.”

“N-not really… I’m T-Toko Fukawa. That's Hi-Hifumi Yamada…” she gave the boy a side-eye, “Don’t say anything w-weird…”

“Never!” he cheered, turning to Tsumugi, “I am Hifumi Yamada- “

“Yeah,” Tsumugi sighed, already rather exhausted with his loudness, “Toko already introduced you.”

“But you may call me by my online dubbing - The Alpha and The Omega!”

“Alright,” Tsumugi dryly replied - he didn’t seem awful, but he definitely wasn’t for her.

“Wait!” Kokichi whined as the girl was leaving, grabbing at the tail of her skirt, “Didn’t you hear me earlier?! These creeps kidnapped me! They’re gonna kill me!”

“Stop talking,” Kyoko mumbled.

Shuichi sighed, running his hands through his hair, “Please, Kokichi, you’re giving me grey hairs and I’m barely eighteen…”

Tsumugi rubbed over her eyes, exhaustion ringing over her, “Me too and I haven’t even known you for ten minutes.”

“No more crazies… no more crazies… no more crazies…” Tsumugi repeatedly murmured to herself as she rubbed her temples. Finally taking notice of the camera pointed at her, she hissed, “You better cut that.”

Once again, there was the motion of a nod from the director before following Tsumugi around to the back of the elementary school neighboring Hope’s Peak to find two more groups. This time, however, the two groups were working together extremely well and weren’t fighting whatsoever. Who knew how refreshing it could be to not hear yelling for five minutes?

It seemed that the third-grade student body had been split in half between a group of two and a group of three. The two were monitoring as kids ran around the large field - the three had kids standing at canvases with just a few bouncing around one with long hair tied in what appeared to be fishtail braids.

“Aw,” Tsumugi smiled at the sweet sight, “Okay, let’s go over there.”

A voice popped up from behind the camera, “I heard about these girls from the headmaster. Those two,” he pointed over to a muscular girl picking up kids on her arms with a shorter girl trailing behind her, “are Sakura Ogami and Aoi Asahina. They go around to closeby elementary schools and set up field days for the kids,” then to the group of three, made up of a white-haired girl in a long yellow overcoat, a redhead with extremely pointy boots, and the fishtail girl throwing obviously fake hits with some kids, “They’re Angie Yonaga, Himiko Yumeno, and Tenko Chabashira. They teach kids about the arts. Except for Tenko who teaches them her made up Neo-Aikido, something about controlling emotions and all that junk.”

“Wow,” Tsumugi breathed out, still approaching the two groups, “that’s so great. They seem like a fun- “

Then, out of nowhere, Tenko suddenly tossed Angie over her shoulder, causing an eruption of cheers to burst from the children.

Tsumugi’s face fell, she turned around and nearly ran out from behind the school and towards the car. Chants of “no, no, no, no” leaving her lips.

“Oh, finally, normal people…”

The two boys in the copy room looked up at Tsumugi’s sigh.

“You must be the documentary girl?” the brunette smiled slightly, unevenly, “Sorry, I don’t know your name,” he lifted up a stack of papers, “Kyoko probably mentioned it but I was grading.”

“Tsumugi Shirogane!” the white-haired boy cheered, setting down the papers in his hands, “You’ve come to get my worthless opinion on whether or not student workers should be paid?! How incredible!”

“Sorry about him,” the shorter of the pair chuckled, “He has an inferiority complex. We’re working on it.”

“Uh-huh,” not as bland as she thought, apparently, “You two are… TAs?”

“Yeah,” the shorter nodded once again, “We work under Miss Yukizome, but lots of students everywhere are TAs, so I don’t think we should really have a say in this…”

“Especially me!” the other one butted in, “I barely help at all… I’m just garbage…”

“Nagito, you’re not garbage, and you do a lot!”

“With all respect, Makoto, the only reason you’re stuck with me is because all the other teachers can’t stand me!”

“Well, the only reason I’m here is because nobody else had a spot open.”

“Do you two just comfort each other about your hang-ups?”

“Yeah,” Makoto nodded, already pulling Nagito into a hug and patting his back, “it’s nice. Like super amateur therapy.”

“Painfully normal in comparison to the others,” Tsumugi turned to the camera, “Almost as plain as me.”

“No,” the voice from behind the camera peeped up again, “You’re still definitely the plainer one.”

“We duel-work animal care and the occult,” Sonia cheered, holding a small puppy in her arms as Gundham fed hamsters in the back of the room, “It’s quite a bit of work but we manage, don’t we?”

Gundham nodded silently.

“Does…” Tsumugi gestured to the boy, “Does he ever speak?”

“You haven’t built enough resistance to the poison that would slip from his lips, unfortunately,” Sonia shakes her head, frowning slightly, “He doesn’t speak to people unless they’re immune.”

“And you are?”

“Surprisingly, yes!” eyes lighting up at the question, Sonia nodded excitedly, “It seems that I have managed to build up an immunity to his poison without even realizing it! Is that not amazing?”

Refraining from rolling her eyes, Tsumugi merely glanced between the beautiful blond and the boy hiding his bright red face in his scarf, “It truly is amazing, yes. How wonderfully random.”

“Wanna go?” the director asked.

“Yeah…”

The camera aimed at a downcast Tsumugi, a frown depressingly obvious over her features. The voice behind the camera popped up, “Wanna try Celestia at the math club again?”

“And get told that only people she hates more than her own clubmates are theatre kids and then get called theatre kids and yelled at to get out again?” the girl grumbled, letting her microphone fall down into her lap as she sat slumped against the wall, “No thanks, Monokuma.”

“I mean, she’s not wrong,” the camera turned to show off the boy going by Monokuma with heterochromatic black-and-red eyes, half-and-half dyed hair between white and black. He snickered, “Yeah, I’m a big theatre kid. It’s unfortunate. You are, too, just let it go.”

“She might be right, but it’s still mean!”

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