Possibilities

What IF 3 – New Game Minus

Makoto Naegi wasn't sure how much more strangeness he could deal with. Being chosen to attend Hope's Peak Academy was one thing, being locked inside by a monochromatic bear was another, and now there was the new revelation sitting with the rest of the Ultimates in the dining hall. How long had he been unconscious again? Because at this point, he wouldn't have been surprised if Mondo had knocked him out for twenty years.

"Sakura and Aoi found her in the nurse's office." Sayaka explained. "But she hasn't said a word to us one way or the other."

If the new girl was bothered by Sayaka's off-hand referral method, she didn't voice it, instead gazing listlessly at Makoto with one steel-grey eye. The other was covered in bandages, as was the rest of her, a standard Hope's Peak uniform resting over the bindings in a parody of school life. What little skin could be seen around the eye and mouth justified the protection, inflamed and bruised in a terrible mix of red and purple. The standout was her right hand, for while it was as damaged as the rest of her, it carried yet another mystery – a wolf's head tattoo, said hand currently wrapped around a glass of water, each little sip causing her to wince and flinch as though struck every time she went to drink.

"Most likely because she's working for Monokuma."

For some reason, it wasn't a surprise to Makoto that Byakuya was suspicious of her. He didn't much seem the type to welcome strangers with open arms. The room ignored him, the other students having heard his complaints already.

"So yeah, that's what we've found. For the time being, we're… "

Sayaka would have concluded herself, but was distracted as the bandaged girl rose to her feet, taking shaky, uneven steps to the front of the room, stopping in front of Makoto. The scarred mouth worked emptily for a moment, before a rusted name choked out, her voice a smoky rasp.

"Ma…ko…to."

Even so little was the limit of her strength, and Makoto was left scrambling to catch her as her legs gave out, grabbing her in an awkward hug to lower her gently to the floor.

Unsurprisingly, the one point of recognition was all it took for Makoto to be assigned as her caretaker, combined with the new suspicion that he too was working for Monokuma and that the two should be left kept together so that they could monitored if need be, thanks to Byakuya. But while the two of them were made semi-pariahs within the small group of former students, Sayaka continued to hang around as his assistant, which made up for things a little, and made helping Mukuro (that was the name on her student I.D., but with no talent to go along with it) with bathing and dressing much easier than it would have been otherwise. He probably would have died of a heart attack from being in the same bathroom as either one of them, and the last thing he needed was for Monokuma to have an excuse to do… whatever it was he had planned for anyone who followed through on his sadistic killing game. As for Mukuro herself, it was quickly revealed that she had no memories of anything other than her own name, and was unable to explain why she'd been attracted to Makoto that first day. Not that it stopped her from following him around like a well-trained dog, even waiting outside when he needed to visit the toilet. Or from sending Leon running to a different seat during the first breakfast assembly with little more than a glare, least he dare sit near Makoto when she could instead. If only she was as effective in scaring Monokuma away when he came to visit, taunting them with visions of videos. As it was, all she could do was cling to his arm as he was sent off to scout out the situation by Mondo, taking shaky but determined steps out of the canteen, Sayaka not far behind.

"Mukuro, you don't have to come with us if it's too much trouble for you. Things may be a bit tense at the moment, but Makoto and I will be just fine together."

A small shake of the head, brushing hair against hair.

"I need… to make myself… useful."

Her other arm was suddenly pulled up, Sayaka folding herself into Mukuro's side.

"All right then. Onwards and upwards!"

What little of Mukuro's face could be seen fell into a soft frown and she, and by extension Makoto, were dragged off in the general direction of the A/V Lab.

Mukuro didn't remember anything about herself. Even her name had been obtained from an outside source, leaving her only with the name she'd spoken on the first day. Makoto Naegi, the Ultimate Lucky Student, according to the files on her student I.D. As sole memories went, it was good enough for her. Unlike the others, Makoto didn't shy away from her or accuse her, and even if he wasn't forced to help her get around she suspected that he would do his best to help her anyway. Sayaka was nice as well, but Mukuro couldn't help disliking her, just a little. Every time she came over to help her dress or clean, it struck a spark in her chest, comparing that flawless porcelain skin to the raw red scar tissue of her own body, seeing how easily and cheerfully she could talk without speaking in a rasp that burned the back of her throat with each word. At least she'd done the proper thing and run off to collect the rest of the Ultimates, leaving her and Makoto with the box of disks. He withdrew two, holding out the one that bared her name.

"You know, if you want to, that is. Monokuma could have put anything on these."

But she did want to, unwinding some of the bandages about her ears to hear better as they put on headphones. The scene opened on the back of a lone faceless soldier, her short black hair pristine even in the midst of the desert. She moved from building to building, taking single shots with her rifle and landing true each time, a trail of dead men left in her wake. As she reached the last one, the picture began to break apart, waves of static interrupting only to cut away to a roaring bonfire, the same soldier screaming in pain as the flames ate away at her. The static cut in again, and now she was tied to a post, being hammered by thousands of baseballs. Mauled by sharks. Pounded by an excavator. Left out to freeze on a lonely street, her uniform naught but rags. As the camera slowly panned up, Monokuma's voice piped in.

"You're probably wondering how all this relates to you. If this girl is even you to begin with. Well, if you want your memories back, do your old pal Monokuma a big favour…"

The scene cut back to the battlefield, the soldier standing over a begging enemy. She cocked a pistol, aimed it at the man's head.

"And do what you do best."

The screen went black with a gunshot, and Mukuro was left staring, open-mouthed. She was left further shocked as Makoto's fist suddenly smashed the console next to her, his eyes wild and away from the room.

"I need to escape. I have to get out, right now! I need to make sure everyone's safe!"

"Mako…to."

Not thinking, she reached out and grabbed his hand and he bolted like a startled animal. A seed of displeasure took root in her, crushing her own confusion over her DVD. Makoto still had his memories, so whatever he'd been shown had to have been powerful indeed, to turn the passive, friendly boy so crazed. For the first time, she truly began to feel the same hatred towards Monokuma that the others had shared from the beginning. Misguided as her action was, it seemed to work a little, Makoto finding a small smile for her to try and calm them both.

"Oi, if you two need a moment, do it outside so we can see what the hell that bastard left for us."

The two jumped in surprise as Mondo elbowed in with the rest of the class, ready to watch their own personal despair.

They went to bed in various states of shock that night, and Mukuro was no exception, thankfully aided by Sakura in place of Sayaka, after the idol had panicked and fled the room. The girl in the video kept coming back every time she closed her eyes. Her face had been blurred but they looked the same size, and Monokuma had directly ordered her to kill as if it were natural to her. And if that was the case, then her burned and ruined body was from enduring some sort of terrible ordeal, one that had been so shocking that it had purged everything from her. Did that mean that she still had enemies waiting for her outside the academy walls? Or was she here because of said enemies? She sighed as hard as her damaged lungs would let her, and ended up having yet another coughing fit. Staggering over to the bathroom to hack up in the sink, she finished by wiping the debris with a loose bandage. New job done, it was unravelled into the bin, leaving her face to face with the charred girl in the mirror. The soldier girl had been completely unmarred other than a spree of freckles across her cheeks, but Mukuro could only be so lucky. Unbidden, Sayaka's face appeared out of the corner of her eye, and she slapped her palm against the mirror to crush it. She renewed her bandages quicker after that, keeping the thought out of her head. It wasn't fair to Sayaka, just because she was cute and girly and Mukuro… wasn't. It hadn't been her who'd put her on a pyre after all, and she wouldn't exchange the experience to anyone else. Just as she was about to try and sink into bitter sleep, there was a knock at the door. Mukuro didn't answer. Nightime rules were in full swing, including the one the students had made not to go out after it was announced. That aside, no-one talked to her aside from Makoto and Sayaka, the suspected allies of the mastermind. So for anyone to visit her at all put her on edge, especially with the knowledge that the rest of the students had received the same message as her: kill a classmate and we'll give you something you want. With no answer, all she could do was wait until there was a soft sound by the door, leaving a white something at the foot. It was a piece of notepad paper, the same as the one besides her own bed, folded in half with a message inside.

Mukuro

Please come to my room, I need to talk to you about the video messages. Just us, alone. Don't worry about being in your pyjamas, I know it's hard for you to change. Oh, and check the nameplates to make sure you get the right room, okay? It'll be unlocked.

Makoto

First thought: Makoto had incredibly girly handwriting. Second thought: why not talk to her in the morning? Third thought: Her, Makoto, alone, pyjamas. She shook the last one out and focused on the second. She'd only known Makoto for three days, but it only took three minutes to see that he was an incredibly open person, not the type to hold secret meetings in the dead of night. But then again, how frenzied had he become over his message? Maybe enough to only want to keep things within their group for now, whatever it was he wanted to discuss. Fourth thought: she hoped no-one else saw her enter his room. Suspicions were high enough as it was.

It took her a while to make her way over, peaking around corners and limping with each step. She'd sleep in once this was done, do her best to accelerate the healing process so that she didn't bother the others by having to lean on them to walk anymore. As promised, Makoto's door was unlocked, and she made her way in after one last paranoid look around. Which wouldn't help the idea that she was a spy of some kind, but it put her at ease if nothing else. What didn't put her at ease was Makoto's absence. She checked the note again. Definitely his room, there was the sword that Sayaka had them run around after for his protection. Worthless thing wasn't even sharp. Panic blossomed in her chest, but before she could worry further a manic cry came charging at her, armed with a knife.

Time began to slow as everything sunk in at once. The girly handwriting and the odd message, Sayaka's flight from the A/V room and her monopolising of Makoto for the rest of the day. Her general interest in the most defenceless student. The Ultimate Pop Sensation, running at her. She'd high-jacked Makoto's room somehow, or worse…

The despair held her for a second, replaced with a new kind of burning inside her. As Sayaka lunged at her, she was coming at a crawl, and Mukuro knew exactly what to do, and knew in that moment that she and the girl in the video were one and the same.

Step one: grab the wrist, push upwards to create space. Step two: kick attacker firmly in the groin. Step three: push in, break wrist. Her body moved automatically, all burns, scars and pains forgotten as Sayaka screamed, the knife flying across the room to embed itself in the wall from the sheer force of anger behind the disarming. She went to run to the bathroom but Mukuro was ready, grabbing her flailing arm, planting a foot into the back of her knee and driving her to the ground, the already broken arm pinned between the girls, one crying, the other steaming.

"Where is… he?"

Sayaka kept crying. Mukuro twisted the arm.

"Makoto. Where. Is. He?"

"In my room, he's in my room! Please don't kill me!"

Mukuro pulled the idol up, keeping her arm between them both to have her lead and hold her in place should she try to run. She withdrew the knife with her free hand, keeping it loose beside her.

"Lead on."

Her raspy voice must have as that of Cerberus to Sayaka, doing her best to get next door as quickly as she could while keeping the rest of her arm intact. If not for the soundproofing in each room, the whole academy would have been awoken by her tear-stained begging as she pounded on the door with her remaining good hand. It took ten heart-stopping minutes before it opened, a sleepy yet terrified Makoto opening up to the mess. Before he could misinterpret the situation, Mukuro threw Sayaka to the ground and the knife down the hall, where it would lodge into Sakura's door and be named Excalibur by Hifumi for its refusal to be removed. Not that anyone present cared about that, as Mukuro threw herself into Makoto, pulling him into a tremendous hug.

"Mukuro? Sayaka? What's going on?"

"Explain later, hold forever… now."

"You know; I'm really disappointed in you all. That was the worst attempted murder I've ever seen, and you Mukuro, didn't even have the decency to get stabbed even a little. What's one more scar on your ugly body, huh? Well, I'm sure you've all got a lot of finger-pointing and sabre-rattling to get to, so I'll leave you to get all Lord of the Flies up in here. Toodles!"

"I hate that bear."

The morning had been eventful for the students not involved in the midnight attack, having awoken to two open doors, one with Mukuro sitting at the foot of Makoto's bed like a gargoyle, and the other with a whimpering Sayaka in a makeshift armbrace. And while no murder had occurred, Sayaka's attempt had been enough to splinter what little camaraderie had existed. There were only five at breakfast after Monokuma's assembly to 'explain' the events, and most of them refused to look at Mukuro at all, let alone speak. Finally, Makoto broke the silence.

"I think my family's been killed."

The shocked expressions were all he needed to go on.

"In my video, they were seating in the living room, on our old sofa. They were congratulating me on entering Hope's Peak. And then they were gone, and the room was wrecked, and Monokuma was taunting me to kill someone and escape."

He took a breath, drew in a mouthful of tea and continued.

"And if that's what I saw, then I don't need to make much of a jump to what was on everyone else's disk as well."

"It doesn't… excuse her."

"I know, but it makes it understandable, and that's what we need to right now. To understand one another, so we'll know how we might react when Monokuma tries to bait us again. Sorry Mukuro, but I'm going to try and talk to Sayaka again. Even if she was using me, I won't accept it until I hear directly from her."

"Call me… if she… attacks again."

"Don't worry, there'll be no need for that. I'll see you all in a bit, okay?"

With the speechmaker gone, the room returned to awkward silence.

"Mukuro, where did you learn Krav Maga?"

Mukuro blinked in surprise, not expecting to be addressed, and not by Sakura at that.

"I don't know. My video… showed a soldier… being tortured, and… I think… it was me. Before… I forgot."

"Wait, so you didn't have your family threatened?"

Aoi this time, inspired by her larger friend in spite of her fear.

"No. Monokuma's holding my memories hostage in place."

"Man, that's just as bad! My brother's a dork, but at least I can remember his dumb face. He must really hate you."

The end of the table shook with a bang, Kiyotaka rigid on his feet.

"That's it! I know how we can create the harmonious atmosphere that we've been missing!"

"What, by watching everyone's families get threatened? That's probably going to do the opposite. No offence Mukuro."

"None… taken."

"Ah, but don't you see? We can see Makoto's family, and your brother and Mukuro's… well, we'll take a vote on the torture if it's all the same to you, and in doing so we'll know who's waiting for us outside, and that will create understanding!"

"That sounds like a great idea."

Heads turned back to Makoto, smiling sadly. Things with Sayaka had clearly gone poorly.

"We've all got our disks, right? Let's gather up the others in the A/V room and watch together."

With a unified nod, the group rose and began to scatter, with the exception of Makoto, holding out a hand for Mukuro, which she gently turned away, rising on her own shaky legs.

"I'm going… to do my best… not to bother you."

"If you'll feeling up to it. Call me if you fall over, okay?"

"Don't… worry. There'll be… no need."

She found herself outside Sayaka's room again, waiting until the others had spread about like dandelion seeds before she made her move. She knocked once, and slipped a note under the door.

That they'd managed to get everybody but Byakuya, Toko, Kyoko, Celeste and Sayaka was an act of hope so strong it should have been classified as a miracle, one Mukuro attributed to Makoto's smile and Kiyotaka's sheer pig-headedness. They started on Makoto's and were halfway done when a piece of paper fell into her lap.

"That was in poor taste." Sayaka complained, still watery-eyed as she took a seat besides as Chihiro's father cheered her on, the tiny girl breaking out into tears and receiving no less than four handkerchiefs from the boys.

"Fair's… fair."

The note had contained two items: an apology and forgiveness. Not that Mukuro felt either very strongly, but she recognised her place in the morning's unpleasant atmosphere. Besides, it was what Makoto would have done. Sakaya offered her disk next, and by the time the idol group had vanished off the screen the looks of pity outweighed the few of worry at a repeat performance. That, and the general consensus that having Mukuro as your enemy was punishment enough. Finally, it came to Mukuro's disk, and by the end of that a quiet anger had settled, turning Mukuro's stomach at the idea that the plan could have backfired, making her the villain of the piece. She reached out and squeezed Makoto's hand as, unsurprisingly, Mondo gave the anger a voice.

"Oi, Mukuro. When we get around to taking this bastard down, you get first swing."

High above, Junko Enoshima snorted.

"Yeah, because that worked out so well for you last time."

"I'll take away even more of your memories like I did that to that irritating detective girl. You'll just be a poor little girl with no memory at all. After everyone reintroduces themselves, they'll walk around the school grounds and eventually find a flat-chested girl with amnesia, covered in bandages with a Fenrir tattoo on her right hand." – Monokuma, Danganronpa IF

Omake

The second trial was upon them and with it a new temptation. Unlike the others, Mukuro held the envelope containing her greatest secret with some hope. Having a secret at all was a clue to who she was before after all. And so, she unfolded it, biting her tongue to prevent an outburst like Toko's squawk. Makoto leaned in as she read it.

"He knows about my late bedwetting. What's yours?"

"Mukuro Ikusaba… has amnesia."

"These are the worst secrets ever."