A/N: Nothing to reply to yet, moving on!
Double or Nothing
Interlude Zero: Rebirth
Chapter Two: True Colors
While I do appreciate the fact I'm not being outright choked, the knee on my chest does nothing to alleviate my fears that this mystery girl might possibly just hurt me.
No, wait, not a mystery. I did glance at her hospital records before getting unceremoniously tackled to the floor, after all. She looks exactly the same in her photo as she does in real life, waist-length pink hair with the purple streaks and all, tied in two high pigtails down either side of her head.
"How am I not dead? Why am I still alive? Do you know what you have done?!" She asks furiously, driving her leg further into my sternum.
"Calm down, miss." I say without the slightest ounce of fear, Mana's declaration of protection still fresh in my ears. The comfort of the scrunchie is soothing as I continue, "You did die, once, but we've managed to bring you back to life."
"Oh. How convenient. In that case, give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right now, pretty boy," she grins ferally, and I can start to feel the nails of her hands dig into my throat.
Without anything else to lose, I state confidently, "Because us natural brunettes have to stick together!"
This causes her to flinch, and as she grabs a clump of her hair to check its colour, the pressure on my windpipe lightens up, and I take in cool, sweet air. Having confirmed that, no, she is still rocking the pink 'do, she turns back to me and laughs cruelly, before grabbing my gown and pulling me up to eye-level. The two of us stare each other down, before she sneers, "For a moment, I thought you had actually found out that I have brown hair! That was a very good bluff, but it won't save you!"
I focus on her ocean-blue eyes, with what must be the smuggest (is that even a word? I don't remember) smirk present on my face. "Does the weather feel a little chilly to you, Mikako Sanada?"
At this point, I'm beginning to appreciate Mana's foresight in giving me something to wear when I woke up—for the second time, at least.
As for Mikako, I can see the puzzle pieces in her mind fall into place, and I can almost hear the audible 'ding!' that follows when she realizes where I've been looking to make that conclusion. Looking down onto her own body, her eyes widen, and I take the chance to hold up the hospital gown in my right hand. "Would you like to put this on before we continue our conversation?" I ask pleasantly. "A Cosplayer such as yourself only looks good when they're actually wearing anything—"
THWACK!
SUBJECT CONFIRMED: MIKAKO SANADA - SHSL COSPLAYER
AGE: 16
As I finish buttoning up the hospital gown, I brush away a few strands of distinctly pink hair.
"Better?" I ask, as my cheek throbs painfully again.
Mikako fluffs her pigtails, smacking me in the face with them. "Much," she scoffs, still very much annoyed.
"I deserved that." I acknowledge.
"Of course you did! It's freaking common courtesy to tell someone right away that they're naked instead of waiting until they flash someone like a cheap hooker!" she yells, turning around to face me.
It's also common courtesy not to attempt murder within ten seconds of meeting someone. "Look, we got off to a bad start." I hold out a hand, expecting it to be swatted away. "I'm Mikuru Yuki, the Super High School Level Aide."
She glares at my hand reproachfully. "You already know who I am, so what's the point?"
I say nothing, keeping my hand outstretched.
A few tense seconds pass before she takes it. "Mikako is enough. Now, where the hell are we, and why am I still alive when I killed myself?"
Pointing at the insignia on my hospital gown, I rattle off the Doctor's greeting from memory. "Welcome to the Sanctuary Memorial Hospital, where the best response to anything the doctor asks is SMH."
"SMH?" She looks at me as if I was the one who had slapped her instead.
"Don't even ask." I shake my head. "Anyways, as for how you're alive, the people in charge won't really tell me the full procedure, but we've basically restored you back to life, memories and all. Which reminds me: how did you kill yourself?"
I reach out, grab the clipboard from the table and check over her papers. "Your last cause of death is recorded as exsanguination, but after that, uh, impromptu body check-up, I don't really see any scars that I need to check over."
"...That's none of your business." She releases my hand and looks away. "Is that all you needed to do?"
"Currently, yes. You're advised to minimize physical activity for now, so as to give your bodies and minds time to re-adapt to the world of the living. As such, I recommend you try not to kill anyone else, thanks."
"Hmph. No guarantees." She puffs up her cheeks.
Maybe I should cheer her up at least. "For what it's worth...I'm glad that you're alive, Mikako." I say with a smile.
She continues to look away, but a faint blush colours her cheeks. "...Baka."
Eh, close enough.
The soft rustling of curtains to my left alert me that Mikako isn't the only one who has woken up. As I get up, her head cranes back. "Where are you going?"
"To do my job. You're welcome to watch if you'd like." Seeing as how she probably has nothing better to do, I extend the offer, and have it accepted as she gets up.
We skip a bed and walk to the second one down the line. I pick up the clipboard, and as the two of us look over it, Mikako's eyes light up in recognition.
"The Famous Screenwriter Miyako Fukugami is here?!" She can barely contain her shock and/or excitement. "I didn't know people could even have the gall to kidnap her for a Mutual Killing Game!"
I raise a quizzical eyebrow. "Mutual Killing what now?"
"You...don't know what a Mutual Killing Game is?" She shakes her head. "Urgh, nevermind, you'll figure it out sooner or later. I just can't believe that she, of all people, could get caught up in the same mess as me!"
"Well, then let's go say hi." I pull back the curtain, and am greeted with a most interesting sight.
Whoever this 'Famous Screenwriter' is, she certainly is rather pretty. A flawless skin complexion sets the look for a gaunt face, framed by black locks of hair that contrast greatly with the white sheets. Her eyelashes are surprisingly long, and as she blinks, I make out their brown irises.
What draws the most attention, however, is not her face, but the ugly bruise that surrounds her neck, as if she had been strangled with a rope of some sort. I check my notes. 'Cause of death: Intense pressure on windpipe, resulting in choking.' Ouch, she probably didn't go into the night peacefully.
"Ms. Fukugami?" I prompt.
As her eyes continue to flutter open, she takes one look at us both, before sighing, "...Oh, I'll be damned. I should have picked a higher fall."
"Sorry, but what was that?" Mikako asks, curious. Considering the volume, I'm not surprised that she didn't pick up on it, but I did, and now I feel like there's a new layer added to this garden of mystery.
The plot thickens.
SUBJECT CONFIRMED: MIYAKO FUKUGAMI - SHSL SCREENWRITER
AGE: 19
"Yes, I'm Miyako Fukugami," she reintroduces herself when I prompt her again. "I was, or I am, the Super High School Level Screenwriter...And my fans like to take that and run with it."
"Famous Screenwriter Miyako Fukugami, I presume?" I rattle off.
She smiles. "Yes. How'd you know?"
I point over to Mikako with the clipboard. "You got a fan."
She looks just a tiny bit disgusted. "I don't approve of the hair, but it's nice to meet you, miss…"
"Sanada." Mikako frowns at the jibe towards her hair. "Mikako Sanada, Cosplayer, which is why I dyed my hair in the first place. As for this guy, he's Mikuru Yuki, the Aide of this establishment."
"A pleasure." Unsteadily, she gets up to a sitting position, propping herself up, as the blanket unceremoniously drops from her shoulders. For the second time today, I am greeted with a pair of breasts.
I don't even stop the sarcastic side of me from facepalming inwardly at my 'good' luck. I bet any other man would kill to be in my place right about now.
She notices the stares coming from the both of us, and looks down. "Oh my," she breathes. "Not that I'm complaining or anything, but someone seems to have removed my layer of powder."
"Um...Famous Screenwriter Miyako Fukugami? Aren't you a little more concerned that your...you know, those are on full display?" Mikako brings her hands up to her own chest and squeezes the air.
She looks down again. "No? Why would I be? Are you people supposed to be surprised that I have breasts or something? I'm more concerned about…" she looks sharply at me. "What color are my eyes?"
"Brown." I reply immediately, curious as to why it matters.
Her face falls. "...Oh dear. If you're an aide, would you mind aiding me by procuring some red contacts? Please and thank you, protagonist-chan." She pauses. "Hmm. I'm unsure about how correct the initial assessment is, but I'll reevaluate later. For now, protagonist-chan."
Mikako and I trade glances. "Uh...You're talking to me?" I ask curiously.
"Yeah, that's right. Now, the contacts." She holds out her hand. "Please, this is humiliating."
I cross my arms. "Miss Fukugami, I may be an aide, but I can't help you right now. See, I can't get you any red contacts unless my superiors allow it, and right now, my only order is to ensure that you're adapting to your revived body well. You're gonna have to wait a while."
She pales even further. "Shit. Shitshitshit—wait, you didn't hear that." She takes a deep breath in. "I'm fine. Alright. Who are your superiors? FBI? Interpol? China?"
"SMH."
"...Excuse me? Are you connected to the North Korean government then?"
I shake my head. "We're not a crime-fighting organization or a government agency or anything of that sort, really. Just the Sanctuary Memorial Hospital, where our apparent business is necromancy."
She exhales. "Oh, thank the elder gods. I thought I was screwed." Crossing her arms over her own chest, she looks at us curiously. "Second question, then. How am I still alive?"
Before I get the chance to answer, a loud thump startles the three of us. Turning around, I see that someone has fallen out of their bed—someone has fallen out of their bed.
"Uh oh. I'll explain later, Miss Fukugami. For now, I gotta attend to someone else. Sorry." I apologize, before running off to check up on the new patient. I reach their side as they shift from lying on the floor to a kneeling position.
"Ugh...This feels worse than that time one kid Matthew beat me up in eighth grade." The young man gingerly places a hand on his face, expecting it to just fade away or something. "What even is this place, and how am I not dead?"
"Actually, you did die," I helpfully add. "You just got revived."
He blinks, before putting a finger to his right eye. "Well, that certainly explains a lot. I'm Nicholas, by the way. Nicholas White."
I read down the information provided for me on his factsheet. "The ex-Ultimate Commander, ex-Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, ex-boyfriend to one Hikaru Momoko—" he flinches when her name comes up. "Huh, I wonder who that was to be important enough to leave in, because I don't even know the name. Anyways, there's an addendum here coming from management that due to the title of Super High School Level Commander belonging to someone who is, mind you, still alive, they've requested for you to change your title to the Super High School Level Observer."
"Observer…" he rolls the word around his tongue, and shrugs. "Cleared."
SUBJECT CONFIRMED: NICHOLAS WHITE - SHSL OBSERVER
AGE: 19
Before I can continue, the next curtain over swings open, and a blond-haired guy looks out. "No suh, Nick, is that really you?"
"Seymour?!" Nicholas shoots up so fast I swore his head went 'crick!', "Yes suh, it is you! What are you doin' here?"
"Same thing I could ask you. Wait, Nicholas, put some clothes on, eugh." He ducks his head back in. "You of all people should know by now that I don't swing that way."
Nicholas takes one look at his bare body, before looking up. I dangle the hospital gown over his head, tilting my head as I smile for maximum effect. "You aren't just gonna give me that, are you?" He guesses.
"I will, actually." To prove my point, I pass him the gown. "You've got long enough arms that you can do it yourself, so I'll just talk to your friend over there in the meantime."
As Nicholas mutters his thanks and removes the clothing from its plastic wrap, I pick up the clipboard attached to the next bed and give it a quick read-over. Satisfied that the information matches up with what I've seen so far, I pull open the curtain. "Mr. West?"
"That's me." Seymour replies, before crossing his arms. "I overheard what you and Nick were saying; to make it clear, I've died and come back to life, is that right?"
"It sure is. While I don't know the specifics myself, we've revived a select bunch of students, including you and Nicholas, whose bodies were recovered from the same location, it seems." I flip through the notes. "You were...are the Super High School Level Journalist, is that correct?"
He looks at me blankly. "Super High School Level? Must be the way the Japanese refer to their titles. But yeah, I'm the Ultimate Journalist."
SUBJECT CONFIRMED: SEYMOUR WEST - SHSL JOURNALIST
AGE: 17
"I was locked in a city with Nicholas up north. I don't remember why or how, because it's been two years since we were kidnapped, but we were forced to take place in a Mutual Killing Game for our lives. Me, Nick, Rina, Tennoyama and Annie...We were all that was left."
There's that group of words again...Mutual Killing Game.
"He's telling the truth." Nicholas comes up to our bed. "Do you remember how you died, though, Seymour?"
He grimaces, and bares his chest to show a very splotchy bruise, right over his heart. "Shot. Someone took a snipe at me while I was changing, which probably explains why I'm naked right now."
"Nope." I interrupt. "You all arrived here in SMH without clothing. Just like those two."
"Those two?"
It is then Nicholas and Seymour follow the direction of my pointer finger towards Miyako and Mikako, who have approached our location—though Miyako is relying on the Cosplayer to keep her steady. Luckily, she's wearing the hospital gown; Mikako must have helped her put it on.
"You were supposed to rest, Miss Fukugami." I chide, getting up.
"Not when I have questions, protagonist-chan." Turning to the two men, she addresses them. "West-san, White-san, may I ask what this...Mutual Killing Game entailed?"
"Oh, er..." Nicholas scratches his head. "Well, we were trapped in a city, and forced to live together. Not only that, we had to play a sadistic game where the only way to leave the city was to commit murder."
"And thereafter, get away with it in a school trial." Miyako finishes to the shock of everyone but me, now looking vaguely annoyed. "The nerve of some people, I swear. Don't they know plagiarism is illegal? Some might call the horror genre tired, but at least I don't steal people's ideas—"
Mikako frowns. "Hang on. What do you mean, stealing people's ideas? Are you saying that you made a Mutual Killing Game?"
"Of course that's what I'm saying." She grins. "And it was magnificent, if I may say so myself. Better than any single homicide I had committed by far. Everyone was so scared and the fear on their faces was just so...riveting!"
We all pause to look at her. Seymour's resting face has hardened, and Nicholas reaches for a gun he doesn't have anymore, before gritting his teeth. "Subject is part of Super High School Level Despair, I have zero backup, and my peripheral vision is at an all-time low. This cannot be good."
"...Super High School Level what now? I'm about fear, not despair, and it's certainly not my SHSL anyway—that's Screenwriter. I have an actual talent, several actually: I'm also a ballerina, a poet, a violinist, and a painter - but that's irrelevant. Point is, I don't know what you're talking about." Her eyes narrow. "Wait, are you FBI? You're upset that I killed O'Malley—well they chose to follow Black to his death! Serves them right!"
This is getting confusing. The massive jumble of names and titles thrown out mean absolutely nothing to me, yet I can't help but stare impassively at them all. They probably think it's indifference anyways.
"I'm not FBI. What I am, however, is ex-Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, and in a more physically fit state than you. Miyako Fukugami, you are under arrest for aiding the cause of Junko Enoshima and any of her related groups—" he pauses once he sees the look on her face. "...You don't know who Junko Enoshima is, do you?"
It is Mikako who interrupts this time. "That freaky fashion model? What has she got to do with all this?"
"I don't know, and I don't know who she is. And if you're ex-Keishichō, then it just means you have no authority here." Miyako states matter-of-factly, before turning her attention to Seymour, who has gotten out of his bed. "And what do you think you're doing?"
"I'm just getting some clothes on," he deadpans.
It is then I decide that now is as good as any a time to step in. "Look, I don't really care what you people are talking about or what kind of beef you have with each other, but can you save this for later? The recovery process is supposed to involve as little physical activity as possible, not to mention the placebo effect only working in a positive environment. Now, if you please, drop it."
Instead, the Mexican standoff continues, as both Nicholas and Miyako stare each other down. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Mikako staring at Seymour getting into his hospital gown, and I snigger. Perv.
"...Fine. Anyways, protagonist-chan. I think there's been a big question on all our minds now." Miyako finally turns to me. "Why are we here, and how are we still alive when each and every one of us has died before?"
I sigh, and steel myself for what's to come, knowing that I have to watch what I say carefully so as not to mention the Fujiwaras. Thankfully, the words come to me much easier than I would have thought, though I can't help but feel that this is another one of Mana's tweaks. "So apparently, someone had the bright idea to resurrect the dead…"
By the time I have finished my recapitulation, the distinct sound of coughing and general unease (not from my listening audience, mind you, I'm not that bore-inducing) indicates that at least three more people have woken up. Deciding to expedite, I send the girls off to one bed and the guys to another, telling them to ensure the students within are made comfortable until I get there. Following that, I make my way to yet another bed on the far side of my original one.
Picking up the clipboard and swishing the curtain open, I only have enough time to glance at the name of the one I'm visiting. "Hikari Taiyou?"
And for the third time that day, it is breasts that greet me. Go figure.
"Yes, that is me." The young lady replies. She's already leaning against the back of the bed, the sheets covering up her legs. Her pale-grey hair trails just slightly over her shoulders, straight and neat; her eyes are of the same colour, round and expressive, much like...well.
"My sincerest apologies." I say.
She catches me staring, and understands why immediately. "My sincerest apologies as well. I do not recall stripping down since I died, and I was not expecting anyone to open the curtain quite so soon. I cannot deny that this feels like Kunoichi 101 all over again, and not in a good way." She turns to me and smiles. "I am sorry to trouble you, kind sir, but may I ask that you find something for me to wear?"
Oh my various gods, the prayers I never knew I had have been answered.
"Of course!" I reply a little too enthusiastically, but who cares? This is the first normal conversation I've had with a girl since I woke up! "Actually, here, this is your standard issue SMH hospital gown. I'd be happy to put it on for you, if you're alright with that."
She nods, though her expression turns quizzical. "SMH?"
I shake my head. "Don't ask."
She turns around, keeping the bedsheet pressed against her bosom until we're both sure I can't see anything, upon which she lets it fall to her lap and I slip the gown onto her arms. I notice the intricate design patterned on her wrist, in the shape of a stylized sun. "Nice tattoo you have there, miss. Does it have to do with you as a person or your talent?" I ask.
"My talent, though I cannot say it does not look cool either. Hikari Taiyou, heiress to the Taiyou clan, and one of the best at what I do in the ways of the Ninja." She giggles. "Though, right now, I am just Hikari Taiyou, recently deceased, and one of the worst people at actually surviving a head-on confrontation."
SUBJECT CONFIRMED: HIKARI TAIYOU - SHSL NINJA
AGE: 18
"You've met with a terrible fate, haven't you?" I comment, as I button over the still-healing scars on her back. There are similar ones to the front of her body, just under her breasts, but I've declined to comment on them out of respect. "The record says you died of blood loss, and I'll wager that somebody ran you through with a sword."
"My own sword, yes," she says, embarrassed. "I had it wrestled away from me, and when I asked for it back, they took my words a little too literally and stabbed me to death. They even had the audacity to taunt me by saying they 'got my back' before I passed away."
I can't take it anymore. This girl is really just too precious to joke with. "There there, you poor, poor thing." I hug her from behind, and she leans back into my embrace without so much as a squirm.
She turns around once I've let go. "I am perfectly fine. Thank you, however; I fully appreciate your sympathy and the second chance at life you have blessed me with, so I am in your debt, goshujin-sama." Getting onto her knees on the hospital bed, she proceeds to bow, and as she looks up, there's a swelling sense of familiarity as we smile at each other.
I think I'll actually like this one. "No need for formalities, Miss Taiyou. I'm Mikuru Yuki, the Super High School Level Aide."
"I insist, Yuki-dono."
Sensing that it's probably too ingrained in her psyche to drop the suffixes, I shrug. "Alright. Would you like me to call you Princess Taiyou then?"
She blushes, and looks away. "J-Just Hikari is fine, thank you."
"Oi! Bastard Aide!"
Mikako's voice breaks the idyllic silence, and I groan. "I'll be right back, Hikari. I have to do my job first."
"Hai." Retreating back under the covers, she gives me a wan smile as I close the curtains.
Turning around, I approach the nearer of the two, which happens to be the guys. Yes, all three of them.
"Hello again, Mikuru." Seymour greets, before pointing towards the newest patient. "This is Katsuhiro Remington, the Ultimate Gunslinger."
"That's Blackjack, the Super High School Level Gunslinger to you, pardner." Katsuhiro reaches up to tip an imaginary hat, before realizing his folly. "Argh, gosh darn it, who thought it was a great idea to wrangle mah Stetson?"
SUBJECT CONFIRMED: KATSUHIRO 'BLACKJACK' REMINGTON - SHSL GUNSLINGER
AGE: 18
To complement the other two guys, Katsuhiro has black hair, fashioned into a ponytail that looks hastily made. A scar runs down the left side of his face from cheek to chin, etched into the tan, pockmarked skin.
Looking at me with narrow, brown eyes, he frowns. "Now, what's this bullcrap ah hear about people coming back to life? It can't be done."
"You'd think it can, considering you're, well, here." Nicholas says exasperatedly. Looks like we got a cynic on our hands.
"But ah didn't die." He argues. "There ain't no way ah lost that duel!"
Oh yes. I forgot to mention the pin-sized blotch that dots the centre of his forehead—the last vestiges of the headshot he received while he was alive.
Seymour has noticed it too, and he looks around, before asking me, "Mikuru, I don't suppose you have a mirror with you on hand?"
I think back to earlier, and walk a short distance to my bed. Sure enough, the makeup kit Mana gave me is still on the table, and I pick it up. Flipping it open as I walk back, I pass it over to Katsuhiro, who looks into it.
"Ah...damn it." He groans. "Okay, fine, ah don't have much a choice but to believe that Monokuma shot first. How could he have beaten me, though?"
"Easy." Nicholas grimaces. "He cheated. You're not supposed to escape an execution when it comes for you."
Why do I get the distinct feeling he's speaking from experience?
"Seriously, W-T-F?! Am I the only girl in this establishment with any ounce of shame?" Mikako's voice yells out from five beds over.
The four of us (and the only males in the room) all stare at each other. Slowly, Seymour raises his hand. "Not it."
"Not it."
"Not it."
"Not- aww." I sigh, having been voted as the unlucky tribute to face the girls. Besides, even if I was quick enough, it technically still is my job...
"Ah reckon' you're in for some tough times, mate. But, eh, thanks for checkin' up on me anyways. Can appreciate it." Katsuhiro says, as they send me off to my doom.
Luckily for me, it isn't too bad. Whoever the new girl is, she's already put on her hospital gown, saving me the trouble of having to put it on for her and comment about how I'm seeing more than my fair share of nudity.
"Ah, protagonist-chan." Miyako greets, though I keep her at arm's length after her little reveal earlier. She gestures towards the young woman, sitting cross-legged on the bed. "This is Hijiri Kaneshiro-san, the Super High School Level Geisha. Wouldn't you agree with me that she is absolutely gorgeous?"
"You flatter me, Miyako." Hijiri turns to me and smiles. "I do hope you'll excuse her—I do not really like to flaunt my beauty, present as it is."
SUBJECT CONFIRMED: HIJIRI KANESHIRO - SHSL GEISHA
AGE: 18
I hear Mikako mutter "Hypocrite," under her breath, but I cast it aside in favour of memorizing the Geisha for future reference. She certainly is beautiful, however; the hospital gown hugs her hourglass figure like a glove, and her alabaster-white skin faintly glows under the hospital light. A small beauty mark under her right eye is the only blemish on a porcelain face, and I do my best not to freeze up with one look from her velvet eyes. She brushes a lock of her raven hair away, and it is then I notice that her hair is so long, it trails along the floor from where she's sitting.
Seriously, did Mana push for all the beautiful girls to be revived just to taunt me?
"Certainly, you are rather pretty, Ms. Kaneshiro, but you're still a patient of this establishment, and as such, I'm not at any liberty to say more." I reply noncommittally.
"That is perfectly understandable, yes. I do prefer to keep our relationship professional for now, until I get to know you better..." Her voice trails off, and I reintroduce myself.
Her face brightens. "Mikuru Yuki...What a magnificent name to suit someone such as yourself."
Miyako turns to her and grins. "Have I mentioned my name, though? I am the child of the night and elder gods, Miyako Fukugami herself." She elaborates with a wink. "And I'm looking for a fellow goddess...much like you."
...So she swings that way too? Huh. Can't say I'm surprised.
Evidently, Hijiri has also picked up on the undertones, for she shifts uncomfortably where she sits. "I...shall consider your offer, reluctantly so."
Mikako is much less subtle about it, as she backs away, before falling over. "Aargh!"
Knocking her head against the frame of the next bed, I watch it shake, and continue to shake after Mikako has already left its vicinity, grumbling, "Shit, that hurt!"
Figuring out that, yet again, someone else is awake, I walk over to retrieve the associated clipboard, before opening the curtain.
As expected of the Super High School Level Maskmaker, she is actually not bereft of all her clothing. On her face rests a black masquerade mask, adorned with purple gems, and as I shift the curtain further to the side, the insides open to reveal icy blue eyes.
She takes one look at me, and said eyes flash with something I can't identify, before she screams.
A/N:
Updates. Yay. I swear, though, the amount of content I have to work with is absolutely massive in comparison to what I have for anything else, and the whole 'You died and you came back to life' shtick might get old pretty fast, but hey.
Anyways, that's eight proper introductions out of the way, including Mikuru. What do you guys think of our diverse cast? See any familiar names? Don't worry, though, I'll try not to oversaturate chapters like these unless otherwise necessary. Besides, right now I only have to write enough to meet my own standards, so I hope you didn't find anything wrong about the chapter's length and pacing.
Finally, since we're all doing this anyways, QotC (Question of the Chapter): If you were in Mikuru's shoes (or lack thereof, everyone's currently barefoot here), what do you think you would have done?
And in any case, I do love reviews, so send them in if you can. For those of you with characters introduced, did I do them justice? I tried to, I promise, but I get too lighthearted sometimes and I know it, but I can't do anything about it. *sigh* Also, for a certain special shadow (you know who you are), we'll probably be in contact sooner or later to discuss the Maskmaker and her little...outburst. :3
That's about it from me. Hope to see you guys soon with the next batch of intros. Cheers, guys. ~SD
