Work Text:
"Something huge is coming," Junko says the moment Mukuro opens the door. "Earth-shattering. World-changing!"
Mukuro is unsurprised to find her sister lounging in her room, but the gleeful smile on her face has a more manic tint to it than usual, which means that Junko's pronouncement might not be an exaggeration this time.
Mukuro closes the door carefully behind her. "Earth-shattering? World-changing?"
Junko giggles and whispers low and intent, like she's sharing the best secret in the world: "Despair."
It's almost a password between them, a holy word, a symbol of the mutual goal that they have always striven toward together. Mukuro quirks an eyebrow, intrigued. And then Junko stands, leans close, and whispers in her ear a true secret -- if not the best, surely the biggest in the world.
By the end, Mukuro's head is reeling. The whole world… "Despair," she murmurs in response, and Junko laughs in delight.
* * *
Class seems so pointless now that she knows what's coming. It's just mindless busywork to bide time until the end.
Mukuro has never been a truly exemplary student. She's always done all her work dutifully, but she has no passion for classroom knowledge. Still, never before has class time engendered such acute boredom and frustration inside her, and it takes all of her considerable willpower to keep her hand moving, scratching down line after line of notes without taking in a single word.
Suddenly there are no more notes, and she blinks, briefly disoriented. A shadow falls across her desk.
"Ikusaba-san?"
She looks up into the hesitantly smiling face of Makoto Naegi. She stares.
When it becomes clear she isn't going to offer any sort of reply, Naegi barrels on. "It looks like everyone else has already partnered up, so…"
Mukuro glances around the room. Sure enough, her classmates have sorted themselves into pairs, huddled over their workbooks. Junko appears to have commandeered a mildly put-out Kirigiri and is serenely copying the other girl's answers.
"I work alone," she says.
"Ah." Naegi scratches the back of his neck, and his smile turns sheepish. "I really don't, though, so… would it be okay if we worked together just once?" He laughs weakly. "Sorry to be a burden."
In the year and a half she's been at Hope's Peak, Mukuro is fairly certain no one has asked to be her partner in… well, anything. Except Junko, but Junko doesn't really ask for things. Mukuro isn't quite sure how to feel about this.
After a moment's silent contemplation, she moves some of her books aside to clear a place for Naegi to join her at her desk. He smiles at her again, more cheerfully this time, and takes a seat.
They work together quietly, conversation light and devoted solely to their task. Mukuro is surprised at how quickly they manage to make it through the problems together. When they finish, Naegi stretches his writing hand and offers her yet another smile.
"That wasn't too bad at all. We work pretty well together, don't you think?" He stands. "We should be partners again sometime."
"Maybe," she says, but he seems to take it optimistically. Naegi heads back to his seat, and soon their teacher resumes lecturing.
* * *
Mukuro is not a fan of sports festivals. She participates obediently in PE class, but all the camaraderie of competition makes her uncomfortable. So she finds herself standing on the sidelines, watching her classmates enthusiastically give their all, hoping to come out on top.
She is not alone in this, however. Touko Fukawa sits nearby, watching the festivities with an expression that could reasonably be called contempt.
They sit in silence for a long time, watching event after event go by. Mukuro notices Fukawa fidgeting now and then.
The festival is nearly over when Fukawa finally speaks. "It's so stupid, isn't it?"
"Mm," Mukuro replies noncommittally.
Fukawa continues regardless. "In festivals like this, everyone always pretends we're all a big team. Like we're all friends." Her scowl is impressive. "But it's all about winning some stupid little bit of recognition. Tomorrow it's like it never happened." Her hand clenches into a fist. "They think people can just forget how they've been treated on a day like this? I know what they all think of me."
Mukuro isn't sure what she thinks of Fukawa, let alone anyone else, but she finds herself nodding anyway. "Yeah," she says. "It's pretty stupid."
"Why aren't you out there, anyway?" Fukawa is suddenly looking straight at her. "There's no way you'd prefer sitting over here with someone as stupid and ugly as me."
Mukuro raises an eyebrow at that. She looks out across the field, where her classmates are gathered together, laughing. She tries to imagine being a part of that… but try as she might, she can't. The best she might manage is sticking awkwardly close to Junko and trying to ignore how screamingly obvious it is that she doesn't belong.
"Honestly?" she says. "Yeah. I think I'd rather be over here."
Fukawa seems surprised and a little suspicious of this, but she nods. They fall silent once more as they watch the festival come to a close.
* * *
Mukuro isn't sure why she should be the one to approach Yamada about turning their mascot into a reality. Junko is much more comfortable with their classmates than she is, and she assumes that their classmates are also more comfortable with Junko than they are with her. But Junko has other things to attend to, and Mukuro knows how to follow orders better than just about anything else.
She finds him in the art room, where he seems to spend most of his time. "Yamada-kun?"
He looks up and blinks at her before adjusting his glasses. "Ah, Ikusaba Mukuro-dono!" he says. "What a surprise! I don't think I've ever seen you in here before. Did you need something?"
Mukuro steps into the room. "I've heard you're pretty good at making models and things."
"2D may be my passion, but I've poured my experience points into all forms of art!" There's a glint in Yamada's eye. "Cosplay and figures are all part of the scene, after all! It's no good to limit yourself to just drawing!"
Mukuro nods because Yamada seems to expect her to, even though she's not entirely sure she managed to process what he just said. "Well, Junko and I have been working on something, and we thought you'd be just the guy to help us." She removes the rolled up sketches from under her arm and spreads them out in front of Yamada. Junko's work is surprisingly meticulous, with diagrams of joints and other interior mechanisms in addition to the surface design. Junko always did have an eye for detail.
"Hmm, a bear?" Yamada studies the design intently.
"We thought he could be sort of like our school mascot. Hope's Peak doesn't really have one."
Yamada grips his chin, still considering the design. Then he smiles. "He has a lot of personality! I like him!" Yamada leafs through some of the more intricate drawings. "There's a lot of detail here. I've never worked on anything this complex before. You want us to have a mechanized mascot?"
Mukuro shrugs. "We're the students of Hope's Peak Academy. We shouldn't settle for what everyone else has, right?"
"Ohoho, a challenge!" The glint has returned to Yamada's eye, and he leafs through the pages again with intense focus. "The Legendary Hifumi Yamada could never back down from a challenge. I'm going to start on this right away!" He reaches out to grab a notepad and begin to pen down a list of materials.
"Thanks, Yamada-kun. If you need anything more, just let one of us know." Pleased at how well things had gone, Mukuro begins to turn for the door. Her gaze is caught, however, by a set of figures standing on a shelf in the corner. When she takes a step closer, she sees that they resemble her classmates. Each one is quite detailed.
"Do you like those? I made them last term for a class project. I think the resemblance is masterful!"
As she sweeps her eyes over the figures, Mukuro spots a miniature representation of herself. She picks it up carefully. It really does look just like her, from her clothes to the expression on her face to the alarmingly accurate reproduction of her rifle strapped to the figure's back. "That's my gun. How did you even know about that? I can't keep it with me while I'm at the school."
Yamada waggles a finger. "True commitment to accuracy is the mark of a great artist. I always make sure I find the best references."
Mukuro is a little skeptical of a doujin author's 'commitment to accuracy,' but the figure really is well-made, and Yamada hadn't done anything weird like exaggerate her bust, which was the sort of thing she expected from a guy like him. She runs a finger over the little rifle. She finds herself missing the real one a little.
"If you like it that much, you can take it!" Yamada tells her cheerfully. "It only seems right that you have it anyway, doesn't it?"
Mukuro glances at him. "Really?"
"Absolutely!" He returns to his list. "And don't worry about this mascot; I'll do a truly legendary job! Just wait and see!"
Mukuro hesitates, then tightens her grip on the figure slightly. "Thanks, Yamada-kun. Let me know how it goes, okay?" With that, she strides to the door and leaves Yamada to his work.
* * *
Mukuro can't remember a time when she needed more than five hours of sleep. It was always a great advantage out on the battlefield, but at Hope's Peak it simply leaves her with a lot of extra time to herself.
She prefers to spend her early mornings training, running laps around the gym to keep her agility up, practicing her pressure point jabs in the weight room on a dummy she'd smuggled out of one of the science labs. It isn't the same. Before she came to this school, her experience came in the midst of battle. When she ran, she ran for her life. When she fought, she fought to kill. She's surely losing her edge, here in the civilized world.
Lost in her frustrated thoughts, Mukuro trains until her body aches, losing all track of time. She only realizes how long it must have been when she hears the click of the weight room door opening and finds herself no longer alone.
No matter. She runs her routine to completion, bouncing on the balls of her feet, hitting each pressure point with perfect precision, finally ending with a jumping kick to the side of the dummy's neck and a graceful landing.
"Very impressive, Ikusaba-san."
Mukuro isn't surprised to hear the voice of Sakura Oogami. She turns, feeling the sweat dripping down her back from the exertion. "Thanks," she says as she stretches out sore muscles.
Oogami begins her own stretches a comfortable distance away, respecting Mukuro's space. "I had thought it rather odd that I had never seen a soldier such as yourself doing any training. Now I understand." Oogami stretches both arms above her head before bending easily to touch her toes. For someone so huge and muscular, she moves with surprising grace. "I thought myself a dedicated warrior, rising to train early each morning. But you have been besting me all along, training before the morning sun is so much as a thought beyond the horizon."
Mukuro shakes her head. "I just like the solitude. And I don't sleep much." She rolls her shoulders.
"Still, you have my admiration, Ikusaba-san." She looks at Mukuro seriously. "If you ever wish to break your solitude, I would be honored to spar with you."
Mukuro isn't expecting that. The offer certainly means a lot coming from a woman as powerful as Sakura Oogami, but praise has always made her a little uncomfortable. "You're a more than worthy opponent," she says after a moment. "I'll think about it."
Oogami nods and finishes her stretches. "I hope you will. I'll be looking forward to it."
Mukuro nods in return and leaves Oogami to her own training.
* * *
During the winter holiday, the school nearly empties. The halls are eerily silent, empty of the student chatter and hurried footsteps that usually fill them.
Mukuro doesn’t have anywhere else to go, though, so she stays in the dormitory. Junko is off in another city for a series of photoshoots, so it's not only boring, but it's a little lonely too. She feels restless.
When she goes down to the cafeteria to make herself breakfast one morning, however, she is surprised to find Kyouko Kirigiri sitting there, drinking a mug of tea.
"Kirigiri-san," she says. "I thought everyone had gone home."
"Mm," Kirigiri responds. "Ikusaba-san." She takes another sip of her tea. "I knew someone else was here. It makes sense that it's you."
Mukuro isn't quite sure what that's supposed to mean. "Well, I guess it makes sense for you to be here too," she says. "Your dad's the headmaster, right?"
Kirigiri tenses a little and looks away. "The headmaster isn't at the school at the moment."
Mukuro's eyebrows rise. "Yeah?"
Kirigiri doesn't say anything more, though, so Mukuro heads on into the kitchen to put her breakfast together. She half-expects the other girl to be gone when she returns, but Kirigiri's still sitting there, and she looks at Mukuro with a contemplative expression.
Mukuro sits down across from her. "So, what you said before. It makes sense that I'm staying here over the break?"
"I made sure I knew what I could about each student's background before I came here," Kirigiri says. "It's basic diligence."
"So you know I don't have anywhere to go, then."
Kirigiri has the grace to flinch a little. "…Yes." After a moment, she adds, "I'm sorry."
Mukuro shrugs. "It's been almost ten years since my parents died. It's hard to feel sad about people you can barely remember." Anger, though… Mukuro doesn't mention it. But she thinks about her promise to make the world despair.
Silence falls between them for a few minutes as Mukuro eats her breakfast. She's nearly finished when Kirigiri speaks again.
"My mother died when I was young," she says. She looks down at her tea. "I don't usually tell people about that."
Mukuro guesses it's Kirigiri's way of apologizing for dredging up the past. "Sorry," she says.
Kirigiri plays with her mug, staring down at her hands. "When the human body is wounded, it attempts to reconstruct itself. However, when wounds take a while to heal, the fiber composition of the new tissue becomes different from the old, and generally less functional. These are what we call scars." She looks at Mukuro seriously. "In the case of severe wounds, or wounds that are not properly treated, scars become more pronounced. And though with time and treatment, those scars may come to blend in better with normal tissue, the underlying difference in structure does not change. The scar is still there. It never goes away."
Mukuro blinks at her. But she thinks about her anger, and the promise she and her sister made so long ago. "I… think I understand, Kirigiri-san."
Kirigiri nods at her and drinks the last of her tea. Mukuro's breakfast is likewise gone. Together they stand. Kirigiri reaches to collect Mukuro's plate, and Mukuro lets her. "Have a good break, Ikusaba-san."
Mukuro nods. "You too, Kirigiri-san."
Kirigiri heads to the kitchen to rinse their dishes, and Mukuro returns to her room.
* * *
The feel of her rifle slung across her back relaxes Mukuro. At least she has the weekly lab tests to stretch her skills, and the state-of-the-art firing range that was constructed on-campus just for Hope's Peak's gunslinging students is better than anywhere else in Japan.
It's still not the same. No one in this place understands what it's like to be out on the battlefield, living and dying by every action and reaction, every choice taken, every shot fired. If they think they can understand what makes her a Super High School Level Soldier without giving her a war to fight, then Mukuro thinks they're all idiots. But at least for a little while, with her gun in her hands, she feels grounded.
She loiters, briefly, in the lobby of the research building, wanting to delay the moment she must return her gun to its locker for as long as she can. She closes her eyes and breathes slowly, letting memories of old battles wash across her mind.
"Mmmf m hmmfmm?"
Mukuro's eyes snap open, and she's nearly grasped her gun before she realizes that the sound is only Aoi Asahina with her arms overloaded and her mouth full. She forces her hands to drop to her sides. "What was that?"
Asahina awkwardly maneuvers her bag and the box she's holding into one arm so she can use her other hand to pluck the doughnut out of her mouth. "I said, 'want a doughnut?'" With a little more shuffling she manages to open the lid of the box, revealing a large selection of the pastry in question. "I'm always so hungry after I swim for the researchers, so I brought along a snack."
Mukuro eyes the box. "No thanks."
"Really?" Asahina takes another bite of her doughnut. Her eyes close in bliss as she chews. When she swallows she continues, "I know they're not good for me, but I'm allowed one weakness, right? Swimming takes a lot of energy!" Asahina peers at Mukuro. "You're not watching your figure are you? I don't think you need to. I know it must be tough having a sister who's a model and all, but you look good too, Mukuro-chan!"
Mukuro has no idea how to respond to this. She settles on saying, "I'm not watching my figure."
"Oh, well that's good!" Asahina replies with a cheerful smile. She bites off another piece of doughnut, and then finally appears to notice Mukuro's rifle. "Mm!" she exclaims, then quickly chews and swallows before continuing. "Is that your gun?"
The answer is blindingly obvious, but Mukuro replies anyway. "Yeah."
"I've never seen you with it. I guess they wouldn't let you keep it all the time, huh."
"They don't," Mukuro confirms, and a little regret seeps into her voice. She can't tell if Asahina notices.
Asahina pouts a little. "That's no good. I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't be near the water all the time. It'd be torture!" She finishes off her doughnut. "Well, I bet it'd be pretty cool to see you in action. Hey!" Asahina's eyes go wide as an idea occurs to her. "You think I could watch one of your lab sessions sometime?"
Mukuro blinks. "Well, I don't think they'd stop you…"
Asahina grins. "Great! I'll be looking forward to it." She offers Mukuro the box again. "Are you sure you don't want one?"
Mukuro hesitates for a moment. Then she reaches out and takes a doughnut. "Thanks."
"No problem! I'll see you around!" Asahina juggles her belongings once more and heads out of the building.
Mukuro contemplates her doughnut. Then, tentatively, she takes a bite. Not bad. Chewing thoughtfully, she heads off to return her rifle to its locker.
* * *
Mukuro has contacts in all corners of the world -- one of the few perks of the wandering life of a mercenary. Junko has others, obtained in ways Mukuro chooses not to ask about, and between them they have more than enough strings to pull for their purposes.
The mahjong parlor is low-key and half-hidden from the outside. She's heard rumors of yakuza ties, and upon stepping into the place, Mukuro immediately believes them. There's a subtle current of danger in the air that jolts like a live wire through Mukuro's Super High School Level senses, and she is careful to remain on guard.
But Mukuro is used to dangerous places, and underhanded deals are best conducted in underhanded settings. Mukuro finds her contacts, and they manage to hammer out the details of the truly extravagant broadcast Junko has planned. She hands over a sum of money for the equipment they'll need to properly outfit the school, and then a larger sum for the services the many people on the outside needed to boost and bounce the signal. Despair would take care of the rest.
With that settled, Mukuro makes to leave the place, but a nagging sense makes her stop. She follows her instincts, turning slowly to peer into a dark corner. There, sitting regally amidst the smoke, clearly doing a splendid job of bankrupting three tough-looking men, is Celestia Ludenberg.
It was strange to think that someone with a personal style so… extravagant could blend into the shadows anywhere, but somehow she had escaped Mukuro's notice before. It's a little unsettling.
Before Mukuro can turn away, however, Celestia looks up and spots her, surprise flashing across her face. She dismisses her opponents with a smile and a flick of her fingers, and before Mukuro can decide whether or not it would be ridiculous to run, Celestia has closed the distance between them.
"I don't think I've ever seen you here before, Ikusaba-san," she begins, conversationally.
"I'm not a regular," Mukuro responds carefully.
Celestia laughs. It's a strangely nasty sound, for all its lightness. "Oh, I'm very aware of that." She tilts her head a little, contemplative. "Still, I think you suit this place somehow."
Mukuro doesn't know how to respond to that, so instead she says, "It was kind of surprising to see you here."
"Really? I'm a Super High School Level Gambler. It makes sense, doesn't it?"
It does, but Celestia still stands out like a sore thumb among the rest of the parlor's clientele. "It seems pretty dangerous for someone like you."
"Well, that's all part of the gamble, isn't it?" Celestia's eyes flash. "Do you think I can't take care of myself?"
Mukuro moves on instinct before her mind can even process what she's reacting to. Her hand shoots out to grasp Celestia's wrist before it can so much as twitch. Mukuro peripherally sees the other girl's eyes go wide with alarm, but her focus is turned to fishing something out of Celestia's sleeve.
It's a switchblade. Mukuro blinks at it in surprise.
"I… guess those are the skills of a Super High School Level Soldier," Celestia says after a beat, though she hasn't managed to mask the unsettled look in her eyes.
Mukuro stares at the switchblade for another moment. Then she finds a chuckle bubbling out of her. "You're tougher than you look." She flips the closed knife over and presses it into Celestia's palm. "Keep it like this, though, so you can use it the instant it falls into your hand." Then she tucks it back into Celestia's sleeve and finally releases her wrist.
There's a strange expression on Celestia's face when Mukuro pulls away. "I'll keep that in mind." She drops her hand and lets the knife slip into it, testing how it falls into her grasp. Mukuro suppresses her usual reaction to weaponry and merely keeps a wary eye on the knife. After a moment, a thoughtful expression crosses Celestia's face. "Huh. This works pretty well." She tucks the knife back into her sleeve. Appearing to make a decision, Celestia's usual benign smile returns to her face. "Why don't you come and play a game? I won't charge you, since you've helped me out."
Mukuro is more than ready to be out of this place. "Maybe some other time."
Celestia shrugs. "Suit yourself. See you in class, Ikusaba-san." She returns to her table, and Mukuro is finally able to retreat.
* * *
Mukuro hefts the bear under one arm and raps on the doorframe at the entrance to the computer lab. Its sole occupant, absorbed in some project or other, takes a few seconds to look up.
"Huh? Ikusaba-san?" Chihiro Fujisaki stands from the keyboard. "Ah, is that the mascot?"
"Yep," Mukuro says, moving aside a keyboard so she can place the bear on one of the tables. He's surprisingly heavy. "How did you know?"
"I saw Yamada-kun working on it! But he wouldn't tell me much. He seemed like he wasn't sure if the project was supposed to be a secret or not."
"It's not really a secret," Mukuro says as Fujisaki comes around to take a closer look.
"Oh wow!" Fujisaki exclaims. "He's so cute, but at the same time he looks tough." He smiles widely. "I really like him! Is it true that you and Enoshima-san designed him?" When Mukuro nods, Fujisaki claps his hands. "That's so cool!"
"Listen, I was wondering if you could help us out with him." Mukuro shows Fujisaki the sketches and schematics Junko has been working on for the past month.
"Remote-controlled…?" Fujisaki murmurs as he studies the papers. "So you want to be able to make him walk and talk? Sure, I could make him do that!" He blinks at the next sketch. "Is he… fighting?"
Mukuro grins. "It's like you said: he's cute, but he's also tough, right? Walking and talking is fine, but we're Hope's Peak Acadamy! Our mascot should blow every other school's out of the water!"
Fujisaki's eyes shine. "Yeah! Okay, Ikusaba-san, I'll get to work right away!"
"Thanks, Fujisaki-san." Mukuro turns to leave.
"Um, wait!"
Mukuro pauses. Fujisaki looks at her seriously.
"I'm… I'm really happy you included me in this, Ikusaba-san!" Fujisaki taps a finger against his chin. "I've changed a lot since I first came to this school, but sometimes I still feel like I'm no good. But looking at this cute, tough little bear… it makes me feel stronger! So I'll do a really good job on this!" He nods firmly.
Mukuro feels her grin soften into something more sincere. "I'm glad to hear it, Fujisaki-san."
He smiles and waves cheerfully after her as she heads to the door. Mukuro offers a small wave back.
* * *
A knock on Junko's door distracts Mukuro from her homework. She considers ignoring it, but soon the person on the other side knocks again, more firmly, and Mukuro sets her book aside with a sigh and goes to open the door.
Sayaka Maizono is on the other side. "Oh! Ikusaba-san," she says, surprised. "I was looking for Junko-chan."
"She went out to get a juice," Mukuro says. "Although it's been a while now."
"I see." Maizono smiles apologetically. "Do you think I could stay and wait for her? We have a project we were supposed to work on today. I don't want to wait until the last minute like last time."
Junko had said nothing of this, of course. With no good reason to refuse, Mukuro steps back from the door, and Maizono enters.
What follows is a silence that begins to grow oppressively uncomfortable. Mukuro attempts to return to her homework, although it's harder to concentrate with Maizono in the room. She wonders what sidetracked Junko this time.
Finally, she sighs and sets her book aside. "Sorry," Mukuro says. "Junko can be… a little scatterbrained, sometimes."
"It's fine." Maizono plays with the hem of her dress absently. When the silence threatens to descend again, she barrels on. "You always seem pretty diligent, though. To be honest, I was surprised to find out you were sisters. You seem so different."
"I hear that a lot." Junko hears it more than she does, because people actually talk to Junko on a regular basis, but that's an unnecessary detail.
The conversation stalls, and Maizono tries another tack. "But you always seem so focused in class, and sometimes I see you doing schoolwork during lunch. I'm envious."
Mukuro shrugs. "It's nothing special. I learned a long time ago that to keep living, you're going to have to do things that are a pain now and then. So you do what you have to to keep going."
An odd look forms on Maizono's face. "Yes… I guess you do."
"Besides," Mukuro continues, "schoolwork might be a pain, but overall, it's not even close to the worst thing I've had to do."
Maizono looks down at her lap, staring at her laced fingers. "You know," she says slowly, "most people only see the very surface of the idol business. There are a lot of tough things that happen deeper down, though." She looks at Mukuro and smiles like she's sharing a secret. "But you're right. You do what you have to do to keep going."
Mukuro nods, wondering what thoughts are traveling through Maizono's mind.
"I think I understand you better now, Ikusaba-san." She gives Mukuro a more normal smile this time. "I'm glad."
The door chooses this moment to burst open, admitting an energetic Junko. "Sorry!" she says with a smile. "Ishimaru-kun was being a pain!" She sloppily tosses Mukuro a juice can, which Mukuro catches easily anyway. It's only then that she notices Maizono. "Sayaka-chan!" she exclaims. "Are we working on that project today?" She laughs. "I totally forgot!"
Shaking her head, Mukuro stands. "I'll leave you two to get to work, then."
"Okay! I'll come by your room later, Mukuro-chan."
"It was nice talking to you, Ikusaba-san," Maizono says. Mukuro nods at her, and then she leaves the room, closing the door behind her.
* * *
Mukuro cuts across the grass on her way back to the dorms. She'll get mud all over her shoes, but she's so inured to mud at this point that it would never occur to her to try to avoid it.
"Watch out!"
Her reflexes kick in immediately and her hand shoots out. She winces at the bruising impact as something hits her palm and her fingers instinctively close around it. Much better her hand than her face, though.
She pulls the object down to look at it. A baseball.
"Damn!"
Mukuro looks up to see Leon Kuwata jogging across the grass toward her.
"Sweet catch, Ikusaba-san," he says when he gets closer. Mukuro tosses the ball back to him and he catches it breezily. "No glove or anything!"
"Mm," Mukuro responds distractedly, flexing her hand and wincing again. Definitely going to bruise.
"Good thing, too," Kuwata continues. "That hit probably would've broken your nose."
"Mm," Mukuro repeats, eyes narrowing a little at his casual, unapologetic tone. "Playing baseball all by yourself, Kuwata-kun?"
That deflates Kuwata. "Nah, man, just…" his face scrunches up, and he nearly spits the word, "practicing." He sighs, tossing the ball absently from hand to hand. "Man, this sucks. I hate practicing! It's not like I need to, anyway. But this stupid school doesn't even have a real team! Now drills and exercises are the only way I can play baseball at all!"
Mukuro finds herself chuckling. "Yeah, pretty dumb, isn't it?" She shakes her head. "The people in charge here don't know what they're doing."
"Exactly! But hey, we have enough Super High School Level athletes here we oughtta be able to get a team together, even if we're not the best." He clenches a fist. "I'd carry the team by myself, no problem! I don't even care, just as long as I could play a real game!"
Mukuro understands the feeling, in a way. "Good luck."
"Ha, thanks, Ikusaba-san." He grins. "You should totally play! With reflexes like that, I'd want you in the infield. Maybe shortstop? I dunno, how's your arm?"
Mukuro finds herself drawn into a game of catch in the middle of a muddy field. Her hand protests a little, but thankfully none of the balls Kuwata lobs her pack the same heat as that first one.
After a few minutes Kuwata stops. "Yeah, not bad! With a little work you'd be a decent shortstop." He raises a fist. "Alright! We're gonna make this happen! See you around, Ikusaba-san!"
Mukuro resumes her trek toward the dorms, still flexing her hand. But somehow, it doesn't really seem to hurt anymore.
* * *
Byakuya Togami is one of the most infuriating people Mukuro has ever met.
Which makes it all the more unfortunate that he is currently standing in front of her.
"I want to know everything about this 'mascot' project of yours I keep hearing about," he demands.
Mukuro can feel a headache coming on. She resists the urge to rub her temples. "You'd be better off asking Yamada-kun about that. Or Fujisaki-san. Or Junko. Really, I'm just the messenger."
Togami frowns. "I can get the technical details later," he says, waving a hand dismissively. "You are the person who brings others onto the project, are you not? Well, I want to be involved."
Mukuro raises an eyebrow. "You do?"
Togami sniffs. "Of course. You are creating a character that will represent Hope's Peak to the world. As a student of this school, I have a duty to ensure that the representation is fitting for such a prestigious academy."
Mukuro begins to realize that she has an opportunity for a little fun. "I don't know…" she says. "What exactly do you bring to the table here?"
"I am the heir to the Togami empire!" he says, bristling. "I have limitless knowledge at my fingertips. I have connections in the highest places. I have the capacity to do nearly anything!"
"So nothing particularly relevant," Mukuro teases.
"I must be a part of this project!" Togami says firmly, but Mukuro can hear an edge of desperation in his voice. It occurs to Mukuro that this is likely the closest Togami will ever get to begging. Suddenly he seems far less annoying and far more amusing.
Mukuro pretends to mull it over for a while. When Togami appears to be reaching the limits of his patience, she nods. "Alright. You can go check on Fujisaki-san and see if there's anything you can do for him. I'll talk to Junko and see if there's anything in your skill set that we might want to use."
Togami nods sharply. "Understood." He hesitates briefly. "I… appreciate it."
Wow, Mukuro thinks. That sounded suspiciously like a thank you. The world really must be ending. Mukuro waits until Togami is out of earshot before she begins to laugh.
* * *
Sometimes Mukuro is restless at night. It's strange, really. When she was younger, she used to wish for a bed like this one, for a roof over her head, for safety and comfort. No more scrabbling to stay alive. No more waking to the sound of gunfire. No more huddling in the rain in the first light of dawn, barely breathing, listening for the enemy's approach. But she lived that life for so long, coming to Hope's Peak had felt like the world had abruptly stopped beneath her, sending her hurtling end over end.
She stands, knowing she won't get any more sleep tonight, and dresses quietly without bothering to turn on the light. Then she slips out of her room and heads for the roof.
The stars aren't as clear as she's used to, drowned out as they are by the city lights. But she can still pick out a few faint constellations, signposts in the sky she's relied on more than a few times to guide her way.
"Ikusaba-san?"
Mukuro starts. She really must be going soft, not sensing the presence of another person on the roof. On the battlefield, she'd already be dead.
She zeroes in on the source of the voice. "Oowada-kun," she replies. Mondo Oowada is sitting on the concrete ledge that runs the roof's perimeter, one leg dangling carelessly over the side. "I didn't think there'd be anyone up here."
He shrugs. "I come up here once in a while. I like the view." He turns away from her, looking out across the city.
Mukuro follows his gaze. The school buildings aren't exceptionally tall, but Hope's Peak is built on high ground, so they can see quite a bit of the city sprawling beneath them. "Not bad."
They stay together in silence for a while. Mukuro's eyes soon return to the sky.
The silence is starting to feel uncomfortable, and Mukuro is just about to turn to leave when Oowada speaks. "I kinda miss it, you know?" When Mukuro doesn't respond, he elaborates. "The open road." He shifts and turns until he can face Mukuro more comfortably. "Sure, I can ride around this place on my bike, but it's pretty different. My gang's not here, for one thing. And I miss just being… out." He gestures at the horizon. "Not tied down to anyplace. I miss being able to just get on my bike and go as far as I want." He chuckles quietly. "Dunno why I'm telling you this."
"No, I get it," Mukuro says. "It's… why I'm up here too."
"Yeah?" Mondo gives her a small smile. Then he turns around again, looking out toward the horizon. "Well, after this, it's only one more year, right? We'll both be back out there before we know it."
Silence falls again. After a moment, Mukuro joins Mondo on the ledge, a short distance away. She swings her legs over and lets them hang as she watches the stars.
When the first pink hints of dawn start to color the sky, Mukuro heads inside.
* * *
Mukuro generally makes an effort to do her laundry at ungodly hours no sane person would choose for such a task, thus avoiding the hassle of interacting with other people. But no plan is perfect, and so it is that Mukuro runs into Yasuhiro Hagakure at four in the morning.
"Ikusaba-san," he greets congenially. "I could tell you'd be an early riser."
"I wouldn't have guessed the same for you," Mukuro says. She sets about throwing her clothes in one of the washers, hoping to get out of this encounter as quickly as possible.
"I'm not!" Hagakure laughs. "I don't think I've ever seen this hour of the morning! Something woke me up." His face turns serious. "There was a loud thump, and then my room turned icy cold." He shivers. "It has to be bad spirits. So I got out of there right away! I figure I'll go back when it's good and light out and do some warding charms. I won't sleep easy for a while, though!"
"Spirits, huh?" Mukuro pauses thoughtfully, detergent in hand. "But how do you know they're bad ones?"
"Huh?" Hagakure scratches his chin. "Well, what other kind of spirit would wake me up and make everything so cold? It felt like the hands of death were reaching for me!" He holds out his arms to demonstrate.
"Well," Mukuro says, thinking back, "this one time, I was alone in a foxhole I'd dug myself after getting cut off from my unit. It was late spring, I think, but it started getting cold. Now I'm used to cold, but it just got colder and colder until I couldn't stand it. I thought I was gonna freeze. So I crawled out of the foxhole, and suddenly I wasn't cold at all. I had a really bad feeling, so I started to crawl away from there, try to find some other cover. And then I heard a BANG!" Hagakure jumps at her sudden shout. "A grenade, right in the foxhole I'd just left. If I hadn't crawled out when I did, I would've been dead " She shakes her head. "Turned out it was my own unit. I was right in enemy territory; they thought I was a hostile combatant. Something was looking out for me that night."
Hagakure is looking at her with something like awe. "So, the cold was a friendly spirit trying to save your life?" He whistles. "I never even thought about something like that before. This changes everything!" His eyes widen. "Wait, do you think the spirits were trying to warn me about some kind of danger in my room? Now I'm even more scared to go back!"
Mukuro chuckles. "I wouldn't worry about it," she says. "I don't think you're really at risk of a grenade attack in the dorm."
"Yeah, but it could be something else! Like poison gas! Or maybe… maybe the good spirits were trying to warn me about bad spirits!" Hagakure holds his head in his hands. "Oh man." After a moment, though, he shakes his head and pulls himself together. "But thanks, Ikusaba-san. You've given me a lot to think about! If you ever want your fortune told, I'll give you one on the house!"
Mukuro isn't sure that she's done anything but give his paranoia even worse circles to run around in, but in a strange way, he seems happy. "No problem, Hagakure-kun," she says, and leaves him there, heading off to train for a while until her laundry is done.
* * *
Instead of heading to her room that night, Mukuro heads for the doors. She walks out of the building, off the Hope's Peak campus, and out into the city with no particular destination in mind.
It was all going to end. She breaths deeply, closing her eyes for just a moment. Despair. She can feel it washing over her. She thinks about the exquisite pain her despair should bring, but mostly it just makes her numb. Soon the whole world will be a warzone, and she'll be locked away from it.
Junko knows what she's doing, though. Mukuro puts her faith in that as she turns down dark alleys and backstreets, threading her way through the grimy, hidden places of the city in the dead of night. Their classmates will kill each other one by one, and the world will watch as their hopes are crushed under the weight of self-interest and paranoia. That will be truly exquisite despair, Mukuro thinks. That promise she made with her sister so very long ago would finally be fulfilled.
She walks for hours, aimless. Nothing happens to her, not even in the darkest alleys, and Mukuro can't tell if she's disappointed or not. It's been two years since she last had to really march, and she is ashamed of how easily she tires. Reluctantly, she turns back toward the school.
Mukuro slips into the school through a side door with a broken lock that no one ever bothered to fix. As she moves to begin the trek to her room, however, a light suddenly comes on.
"Ikusaba-san?" Kiyotaka Ishimaru stands at the end of the hall, looking at her with surprise. "It's three in the morning."
So she's been caught. "That late, huh?"
He looks at her more closely, concern etching itself into his features. "Did something happen?"
Mukuro glances down at herself. She does look a bit disheveled, and, to her chagrin, she's a bit out of breath. She considers trying to lie for a moment, but what point would there be? Punishment doesn't matter anymore. "I was just taking a walk."
Ishimaru frowns. "Students are not to leave the dormitory buildings after 10 p.m.," he says. "The rules are very clear on that."
Mukuro just feels tired. She sighs. "Go ahead and write me up," she says. "I just really want to go to bed."
Ishimaru's frown deepens, but to Mukuro's surprise, he hesitates. "…You've never done this before, I don't think. At least, you've never gotten caught."
Mukuro shrugs. "I don't make a habit of it."
Ishimaru purses his lips. "Do you promise not to do it again?"
The end of the world, Mukuro reflects. Despair. "I won't be doing this again, no."
"Then…" Ishimaru seems to war with himself for a moment. Then he sighs. "Go ahead to your room. Consider this a warning." He looks at her. "You seem like you really need the rest. Don't overwork yourself, Ikusaba-san."
Surprised, Mukuro nods. "Alright. Thanks, Ishimaru-kun."
Satisfied, Ishimaru responds with a nod of his own and turns on his heel, heading off down the hall. Mukuro returns to her room and collapses on her bed, falling into the deepest, most peaceful sleep she's managed in a long time.
* * *
"There!" Junko says. "What do you think?"
Mukuro stares at her reflection in the mirror. There are still subtle differences, yes, but she and Junko haven't looked this similar since they were children. "It's a little weird," she admits. "But… in a way, it's nice, too."
Junko giggles. "Are you ready?"
Mukuro thinks about the last two years, particularly the last few months. She thinks about her classmates, the world's hope for the future. She thinks about the little moments she shared with them, the ones she came to understand a little better, and the ones who seemed to understand her. Soon, they will begin to die. She hesitates.
"Oh? Getting cold feet, Mukuro-chan?" Junko asks. She embraces Mukuro from behind and meets her eyes in the mirror. "Think of how long we've been waiting for this. We made a promise all those years ago, didn't we?"
"Yes," Mukuro says quietly. "We did."
Junko nods. "We promised we would bring the ultimate despair to the whole world! And a promise shouldn't be broken." She smiles. "We'll bring such beautiful despair to everyone. You'll see. Just trust in me, okay?"
Junko has always been there. Junko has always been the one who understands her, who includes her, who shares her dreams and strives for them alongside her.
She trusts Junko. They will make the world despair, together. And it will be glorious.
Mukuro nods. "Okay." She stands, smoothes her skirt, takes a breath. Their great plan begins now.
"Let's go."