Mukuro knew she couldn't get it past her sister. Even before Junko had taken over the school's cameras, she'd always known what her sister was doing. "Call it twintuition!" she'd said once. She'd been in one of her cocky moods, smiling far too broadly, and had for once been willing to share her cheer with Mukuro.

This time, Mukuro wasn't so lucky. "I can't help but notice you're giving Makoto Naegi a toolkit," Junko said. "I thought we'd agreed she was to be treated according to her assigned gender. How do you expect her to feel despair if she believes her identity will be shown any respect?"

She peered at Mukuro over her glasses. (They were unnecessary, of course. Junko's eyesight was as flawless as the rest of her.) Mukuro did her best to stand her ground, as if Junko was just another enemy general and not Mukuro's entire world.

"From what I know of Naegi, he doesn't seem to feel despair about his gender. If anything, he sees it as a nuisance. If we treated him like a girl, he would likely complain about it to the other students. I thought that making Fujisaki feel even more isolated..."

Junko's expression had gone from strict to downright forbidding, and Mukuro's voice died in her throat. "You thought? How strange. I thought I was the Mastermind here. Seeing what happens when you try to make decisions, that arrangement seems to be ideal. If I didn't know better, I'd suspect you weren't thinking about despair at all."

Mukuro knew better than to say anything that might make Junko angrier, but she couldn't stand the disappointment in Junko's eyes. "Despair always comes first," she recited. "I'll get a sewing kit for Naegi immediately."

"Not so fast, Mukuro-chan! You're right that Naegi-chan is disgustingly hopeful. Do you really think Fujisaki-chan's despair will be greater than hers?"

Mukuro froze. She knew her... affection for Naegi was just a distraction. She shouldn't have acted on it as much as she had. Junko had to come first, always, even if that meant Mukuro had to ignore her own desires. Her time with Fenris had been good practice for that.

And yet. "I do," her traitorous lips said. She kept her face as blank as she could, trying not to reveal her inner turmoil. If Junko were to learn of her weakness...

"Okie-dokie! I trust you, Mukuro-chan!" Junko said. "But I already fitted her door with a lock, so you'll need to remove it. Now, I'm going to go play with our dear headmaster. Have fun!"

She smiled sweetly and left. Mukuro almost sank to the floor in relief, but she had work to do. She'd never tried to remove the lock from a door, but she was the Ultimate Soldier. She could figure it out.

(As it turned out, the skills didn't transfer over. Somehow Mukuro managed to put the door back in its frame at an angle. The misaligned door was almost as hard to open as if it had been locked in the first place.

Junko had brushed it off with a comment about supposed Ultimate Good Luck. Mukuro suppressed her sigh of relief. Maybe, just maybe, she could pull off this ridiculous balancing act.)