Mukuro loves Makoto. She always had. He'd always smiled at her and murmured a hello as they walked past each other in the street. He didn't love her back, Mukuro knew that. He was either in love with that mysterious Kirigiri or that prince Togami. She doubted he would miss her when she died but there he was, frowning sadly at her picture pinned on the village board.

Mukuro loves Makoto. So she thought it only right for her to haunt him. She couldn't bare to watch over her younger sister, Ryoko. To see her laugh, smile. No. It would be much more bearable to watch Makoto, see the smiles he offered to everyone he saw, see the way he adored Kyouko.

Kyouko. She could see Mukuro. She hadn't looked surprised when she first got sight of her, simply blinked and turned away. Kyouko was investigating Mukuro's murder. Mukuro was half sure she would outright ask her who murdered her if it were not for the state of Mukuro. Lips sewn shut, blood slipping through the cracks. Bruises littering her cheeks and bare arms. A red smile stretching across her neck. Spirits are dressed in what they died in so Mukuro is wearing a stained white dress and dirty white tennis shoes. She had been on a picnic with Ryoko. Ryoko had kept frowning though, worried about where her twin, Junko, was. Mukuro knew all too well where Junko was. Is.

Mukuro was frowning right now. Standing in what she thought was a protective stance, in front of Naegi. Kyouko barely spared her a glance which Mukuro was glad of. Byakuya had taken off his crown and was pinching the bridge of his nose, just below his glasses. His eyes were closed and everything in the library was silent.

The silence made Mukuro nervous.

Kyouko was the first to break the quiet. "There are no survivors?" Byakuya nods.

"Well, you said it was an accident, right? Maybe he didn't want this to happen so he isn't a bad guy-"

"We can't let someone prance around with a demon, Makoto," Byakuya snaps. Makoto quiets down and stares at the floor and Mukuro glares at Togami. Was he always this much of a dick?, she thinks, how can they bear to be around him?

Kyouko pushes a strand of hair out of her face. Makoto watches the movement and Mukuro's heart hurts. "Let him come to us," she says.

Byakuya sneers at Kyouko, "Why would he do that? And why would he come to us?"

"Because I'm supposedly the strongest witch alive," Kyouko replies calmly, "And he'll be wanting help with his demon." Makoto and Byakuya don't appear surprised at this revelation but Mukuro is pretty sure she's now staring. It was her?

"How would he know this, though?" Makoto asks from beside her.

"If he was from the Kuzuryu clan he will be more than aware," Kyouko says confidently. She sits up suddenly and offers Byakuya's crown to him. "Now, I have work to do. Is there anything else you need to warn us about?"

"Yes actually. Have you heard about Junko Enoshima?" Mukuro tenses. Kyouko doesn't miss the movement. "Rumour has it that she trying to bring about the end of times," Byakuya grabs his crown and sweeps out of the library.

"You already knew that, didn't you," Kyouko says.

"W-What?" Makoto jumps. But Kyouko isn't looking at him. She's looking at Mukuro. And Mukuro nods.

Mukuro can't tell her what she knows. But she can show her. Mukuro reaches out a bloody hand. She can hear Makoto behind her, asking "What's wrong Kyouko?" but he sounds miles away. Mukuro brushes a finger over her tattoo and Kyouko crumbles.

/

Fuyuhiko was once told that his stubbornness came from his mother. That is inability to admit defeat came from her. Everyone in the Kuzuryu clan talked about her as though she was a gift from God himself that Fuyuhiko thought that she had to be good and loyal and just. It was when he was eleven he realised she was a bitch. Her inability to back down, to admit defeat had gotten herself and thousands killed. Fuyuhiko then vowed that everything she done wrong, he would do right. That he would be a better person than she ever was.

But it was at times like this that Fuyuhiko worries that he is becoming just like her.

Fuyuhiko had yelled himself raw and is now silent as he walks down the dusty road. The demon trails after him, five feet behind. Fuyuhiko had ordered them to leave him alone sometime before, voice cracking from overuse but they had simply said that they could not. Now they were only a little behind and Fuyuhiko didn't feel any better.

He had woken up hours ago to find everything gone. And everyone dead. They were scattered around, some of them slouched against walls others sprawled out on the floor. Fuyuhiko himself had been laid out flat on his back on a elegant bed in an empty room. Fuyuhiko had looked the mansion for ten minutes for his sister before escaping into the forest surrounding his home. He gave up on acting nonchalant in his search and had shouted himself hoarse and he felt his lungs closing up and he just could not breathe and he was forced to grab his inhaler. He kept going and only stopped when he saw them. The demon he was contracted to. They didn't look like a person. Just black smoke with red eyes ominously bright in contrast and a silver sword dangling from what he assumed was a hand.

He had then started screaming at them asking where his sister was and what the fuck did you do?! They had replied that hadn't 'encountered any of your siblings, Young Master' and' they were a threat to you, they wished to harm you.'

Fuyuhiko had wanted to cry but held the tears in like he was taught and turned and walked away. And now they were trudging down a seemingly endless road surrounded by tall trees. Fuyuhiko glances over his shoulder at them and choked on a breath. His mother was walking behind him. Fuyuhiko was about to shriek or do something completely embarrassing like wail when he saw his mother had crimson eyes. It wasn't his mother, it was just the demon.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Fuyuhiko growls as he stops and fully faced the demon.

They blink in confusion. "Demon's must settle in a form. I found a picture of this women. Does this shape offend you, Young Master?"

"Yes it fucking does, stop it! And don't call me 'young master' or whatever," Fuyuhiko snaps before turning back round and resumed walking again.

When Fuyuhiko looks around again after a while the demon had a form. Silver hair brushed over one shoulder, ripped, black skinny jeans and black a vest, their sword was strapped to their back. Fuyuhiko felt a hot flush burn his face. "So, are you a girl now?" He asks, turning back to the road to avoid looking at her.

"I have no gender," they replied.

Fuyuhiko nods. After tense silence he asked, "Do you have a name?"

"Not that I know of," they say, thoughtfully.

Fuyuhiko nods again. More silence. Then they break the silence. "Where are we going?"

"To the strongest witch alive."

"Why?"

"Because they'll be able to help me find my sister and with you."

They frown. "You do not know how to deal with a demon? Then why did you summon one?"

"Because we were meant to sacrifice you, ok," Fuyuhiko says, sharply. "Stop asking question already."

The demon ignores him. "What were you trying to do that would need a demon sacrifice?" They ask.

Fuyuhiko rolls his eyes in irritation but still answers, "There was this rumour going around that this girl, Junko, was trying to bring about the end of times."

"End of times? And why would you do something so dire over a rumour?"

"See how this world? It's actually a cage for these two twins, Pugna and Iactus."

"Defeat and Shot."

Fuyuhiko nods. "It's Latin. Anyway, there are seven keys that keeps the twins locked away. Something sentimental, something belonging to an angel, something metal, something dirtied, something sacred, something stolen, and the last key; something hopeful. If someone were to get all the keys and free the twins it would be an outright massacre."

"That doesn't answer my second question," the demon replies. They were standing next Fuyuhiko now, but he didn't comment on it.

"She already has a key," Fuyuhiko says and no one breaks the long silence after that.

[ And thy screamed ]

| A scream one could hear for miles |

[ A scream of betrayal for thy son ]