"Please keep in mind that these memory restoration treatments are still experimental." Dr. Kimura, the Future Foundation's lead scientist, turned to face the six survivors of Hope's Peak, holding a stoppered container of pills. "We've done our best under the circumstances, but I'm afraid the process may be a difficult one."

"It's a little late to expect us to back out now." Byakuya settled himself on one of the six narrow cots crammed into the too-small medical wing.

The others tried to hide their anxiety as they drifted to the rows of cots on either side of Dr. Kimura, but it wasn't hard for Byakuya to see through them. Yasuhiro twitched like he wanted to bolt for the door, and beside him Hina drummed her heels against the cot's thin wire frame, sending tremors through the flimsy object. Kyoko's expression might be blank, but that in itself was a telling clue. Toko, who had wormed her way to one of the cots beside Byakuya, kept sweating and muttering to herself, though he made a point not to listen to what she was saying. And on his other side –

"You're sure we should do this all at once?" Makoto asked, leaned forward and skewering the doctor with his surprisingly intense stare. "Wouldn't it be better if one of us tested it out first to make sure it's safe?"

"Yes, but who would do it?" Kyoko pointed out. "Are you saying you're volunteering?"

"A single volunteer wouldn't help," Dr. Kimura said before Makoto could answer. "The most likely risk with the treatment isn't that it will be unsafe – it's that it might be completely or partially ineffective. Triggering memories is a difficult business. But in our past work, we've found that the treatment is more likely to succeed when used in a group setting. That's why we'll be doing this over the course of five days. After every dose of the memory restoration treatment, you'll report on your recovered memories to one another. Ideally, the exchange of shared memories will spark further recollections."

"How long will it be until we see effects?" Byakuya asked.

"The first memories should start returning with the first treatment." Dr. Kimura began filling six small glasses of water at the medical wing's sink. "The treatment works by weakening the barrier preventing you from accessing your memories while you sleep, allowing moments when you felt strongly about something to cross through to your conscious mind."

"Well, I think we all know what moments we would have felt the most strongly about," Kyoko said. "Should we be prepared to face our memories of the Tragedy when we wake up?"

"Not immediately," Dr. Kimura said. She placed the cups of water on a tray and began walking from cot to cot to distribute them with the medication. "If it works as we expect, you will begin with the more innocuous memories. Traumatic memories do have strong feelings associated with them, but that will work against you in this. The mind doesn't want those memories back, so they will most likely be some of the last you regain."

Byakuya took the cup of water and pill, examining the medication critically. "And what if it doesn't go as you expect?"

"If you're asking about a worse-case scenario, the Foundation has had a great deal of experience in dealing with people who are suffering a trauma-induced breakdown," Dr. Kimura said, as matter-of-factly as if she were commenting on supply stockpiles. "But as I said, that is a highly unlikely possibility." She looked around the group. "If you don't wish to go through with the treatment, say so now. After the first dose, you'll need to see it through to completion."

Byakuya let his gaze roll around the group, looking to see if any of the others showed a faltering resolution even as they did the same. He kept his face steady and unblinking under their eyes, determined to show no weakness here, especially when no one else did.

"All right," Dr. Kimura said at last, when no one spoke. "Now, take the pill when I instruct you, and then lay back on the cot so that it can take effect. It will keep you unconscious for approximately twelve hours, while you experience some portion of the memories you've lost. Once you've fully processed the first set of memories, I'll give you another dose. We'll repeat the procedure until you've had all five treatments."

She looked around the room and gave a single sharp nod. "All right. Please take your treatment now."

Byakuya swallowed the pill quickly, watching as his classmates did the same. His gaze flitted around the group, seeing anxiety, stoicism, determination, all the things he expected. And just before the treatment kicked in and dragged him into unconsciousness, his eyes settled on Makoto. Maybe it was drug-induced delusion, but it seemed like Makoto's last act was to shoot him a hopeful smile.

Not a bad last sight, was the last thing Byakuya consciously thought before falling entirely unconscious.

He remembers the hallways.

Nothing like the echoing caverns in that mockery of a school Monokuma inflicted on them – these hallways are filled with students, crowded with laughter and life. He moves through them elbow to elbow with the best and the brightest of the world. These hallways are full of so much potential it makes the air sing.

He remembers walking.

The students joking and laughing in the hallways might be a thousand shades of hope for the future, but they aren't the ones he's looking for. He has something special in mind, something that shines brighter than any of the others. There is something here that is more valuable than anything the others represent, something that brings light into parts of him he had never known could feel it.

He remembers emotions.

The starburst in his chest when he finds his target tucked snugly in the middle of another group. In the memory this person shines like a beacon, like a lighthouse guiding him home. And the person, this brilliant person who pours light and joy into the world just by being nearby, this person turns to greet him with a smile he would walk through fire to reach.

He remembers.

Byakuya's eyes shot open in horror as he slammed back to consciousness, Makoto Naegi's face burning in his memory.