Unraveling the Predictive Timeline

Wrapping my body in a long towel, I emerged from the bathroom, a light, ethereal mist rising from my skin.

The sensation after a shower truly diverged vastly from the sluggishness before it.

A surge of renewed vigor instantly coursed through my body, while my mind attained a state of perfect clarity and exhilaration.

To circumvent any unnecessary hassle, I retrieved the hairdryer, which had remained untouched until this moment.

The reason for my prior neglect of this appliance likely stemmed from my days as a boy, when short hair made using a hairdryer seem an utterly superfluous chore.

I would often ponder if those who meticulously blow-dried their hair daily ever considered the sheer waste of time.

Yet, from this moment forward, I could genuinely appreciate the unparalleled convenience a hairdryer offered.

A girl’s hair, being quite long, demanded considerable time and effort for mere towel-drying, a cumbersome process the hairdryer effortlessly resolved.

It became clear that to truly grasp another’s perspective, one must first actively immerse themselves in that very experience.

Just as my hair approached dryness, a sudden realization struck me: my hair tie had been left behind in the infirmary.

‘Never mind,’ I thought, ‘it’s too late now; I’ll retrieve it tomorrow when I have the chance.’

With my hair dry, I slipped into my underwear and immediately sought refuge beneath the covers.

‘Hmm…’

Sleep remained elusive.

Sitting up, I leaned against the headboard, my vacant gaze fixed on the empty space before me.

‘This is insufferably dull!’ I lamented inwardly.

‘Normally, I’d be at home, losing myself in games to while away the hours!’

Yet, the current surroundings were utterly drab and monotonous, and I felt as though prolonged exposure would surely drive me to distraction, if not outright madness.

‘No, this won’t do!’ I resolved.

‘I absolutely must find something to occupy myself.

Simply sitting here, lost in thought, is even more time-consuming than copying notes!’

My eyes settled upon the notebook resting on the bedside table.

With a stretch, I reached for it, bringing both the notebook and a pen closer.

As if recalling a crucial detail, I swiftly turned to the second page, where my earlier deductions were meticulously recorded:

1. I can predict deaths occurring no less than eleven hours into the future.

2. The subjects of these predictions are individuals I know.

3. The ability can only be utilized while in a non-conscious state.

4. Currently, the only verifiable form of prediction is auditory.

Intending to update and refine these points, I endeavored to recall the details of the most recent predictive incident.

Concerning the first point, during my last prediction, I had fallen asleep around 9:30 PM and was abruptly startled awake just before 11:00 PM.

Opening my student ID once more, I reviewed the previous Monokuma file, which stated that Amemiya Wakaba’s death had occurred around 10:45 PM.

This implied that within a mere ninety minutes of sleep, I could foresee a death event slated for an hour later.

This aligned with my first deduction.

However, I then recalled Takahashi Aki’s time of death, which was approximately 2:00 PM, a timeframe separated by more than half an hour from when I had awakened from my coma.

If I possessed the capacity to predict Amemiya Wakaba’s demise, then logically, I should have also foreseen Takahashi Aki’s.

Why, then, had I failed to predict Takahashi Aki’s death during my period of unconsciousness?

Could there be a fundamental flaw in my reasoning?

…

It was premature to jump to conclusions, I decided; a more thorough consideration was warranted.

First, I recalled falling into a coma around 11:30 PM last night, meaning a fourteen-hour span elapsed until my next awakening.

Given this, my predictive range would therefore be established between eleven and fourteen and a half hours.

But what if the activation time of my ability proved to be entirely random?

Following this line of reasoning, the ability’s trigger point would fall within the first three hours of my coma, rendering any prediction of Takahashi Aki’s death utterly impossible.

Upon further reflection, however, no evidence currently existed to substantiate this particular hypothesis.

Could it be, then, that my ability required a specific duration before it could be triggered?

As a seasoned PvP player of fighting games, I could readily conceptualize this as a ‘skill wind-up’ (TL Note: A gaming term referring to the delay or preparation time before a character’s action or ability takes effect).

Assuming the validity of this hypothesis, my ability’s timeline could then be segmented into three distinct phases: a blank period, an activation period, and a prediction period.

On a fresh page, I sketched out the first timeline, specifically charting Furuhata Jun’s death.

Furuhata Jun’s timeline, however, merely indicated that the activation period did not exceed eleven hours, leaving the precise durations of the blank and prediction periods entirely unknown.

Beneath it, I then charted a second timeline—Amemiya Wakaba’s death.

This particular timeline spanned a mere ninety minutes, from which I deduced that the activation period was, at most, seventy-five minutes, consequently establishing the prediction period as a minimum of fifteen minutes.

At first glance, this ability of mine seemed to diminish considerably in its perceived value.

‘What a goddamn useless ability!’ I cursed internally.

‘So many limitations, and it even comes with a wind-up period!’

Irritated, I swept my bangs aside with a frustrated hand, my body growing restive and warm.

After allowing myself a moment to regain composure, I redirected my focus back to my analysis.

Observing Furuhata Jun’s timeline, my prediction period appeared quite extensive, leading me to deduce a minimum prediction duration of 9.75 hours.

Finally, I sketched a third timeline—Takahashi Aki’s death, which spanned nearly fourteen and a half hours.

Since I demonstrably failed to predict Takahashi Aki’s death, I could infer that my prediction period was definitively less than 13.25 hours.

Still, one unresolved question lingered.

What was the exact duration of the blank period on Takahashi Aki’s death timeline?

If the length of this blank period could be ascertained, the precise duration of the prediction would, by extension, become self-evident.

Was it conceivable that this blank period represented a second, distinct activation phase?

An initial activation period, followed by a prediction period, which upon its conclusion, segued into a second activation period, and subsequently, a second prediction period.

Should I remain in a continuous non-conscious state, these two periods would invariably spiral into an endless loop.

Of course, it was equally possible that I was simply overthinking the matter.

It was noteworthy that while Furuhata Jun and Takahashi Aki had died after I had awakened, Amemiya Wakaba’s death had occurred during my sleep.

In light of these observations, I refined my first deduction as follows:

1.ⅰ. If this ability requires no activation time, then the predictive range broadly spans between eleven and fourteen and a half hours.

ⅱ. Should this ability necessitate an activation time, the predictive range would then fall between greater than 9.75 hours and less than 13.25 hours, with the activation time itself not exceeding 1.25 hours.

Next was the second point: the subjects of these predictions are individuals I know.

This point consistently aligned with all previous predicted subjects, indicating no apparent flaws, so I moved past it.

Then came the third point: the ability can only be utilized while in a non-conscious state.

This particular point… proved difficult to definitively assess.

For ‘non-conscious state’ encompassed both a comatose condition and a state of sleep.

This compelled me to further analyze whether the ability could, in fact, be employed while in a comatose state.

‘Ugh, my head!’ I groaned, ‘Why is this so utterly mind-numbing?!’