Chapter 2: Finding Strength, Finding Weakness
Mukuro lay on her back. Dead, listless air entered her lungs unnoticed. Wrinkled, unwashed clothing and old bedsheets pressed against her skin. Her eyes were open, but she couldn't tell the difference between light and darkness. Maybe her heart wasn't beating.
A painful feeling gnawed at her from within. It was probably hunger, but that was okay. She could just lay here and starve to death, and that would be fine. How long had she been on this bed, staring at the ceiling and drifting in and out of consciousness? It might have been days. She'd read somewhere that it takes four or five days to die of thirst.
Just another day or two, then.
An old bulb in one of her ceiling lights flickered. The light it cast when it returned to life made something on her desk shine. For the first time since Sakura had laid her on the bed, Mukuro's eye twitched. It was automatic, not conscious. Had she remembered what was on her desk, she would have never looked.
The God of War charm Makoto had given her sat there.
She tried to cry out, but her throat was aching and parched. She had only strength enough left to turn onto her stomach. Even burying her head in a pillow would have been too much effort. Now her eyes looked to the wall, and she saw one of Monokuma's monitors. It was on. There was a single word in blocky white text over a black background: DISAPPOINTMENT.
Yes, she thought. I am.
(Scene)
Ding dong
Mukuro woke, but she didn't bother opening her eyes. She couldn't feel her arms or legs. She felt like a ghost, an observer in her own body, unable to control it. Even that earlier act of turning over was impossible.
Her eyes burned and opened on their own. The bedsheet next to her head was wet with tears and saliva.
Ding dong
The door wasn't locked. If someone opened it and came to kill her, she wouldn't resist. It would end this despair.
Ding dong
A low rumble rose out of her throat. A groan? A scream? She didn't know what she was doing anymore. Nothing made sense. Against her will, her thoughts began to organize. Makoto—
She shook her head. It was her first movement since waking up.
Makoto's death—
His face, that spear, Sayaka's hatred, images of these things filled the blackness of her sight. She opened her eyes just to ward them away, but it didn't help. The monitor was off, but she still saw watery smudges of Makoto, Sayaka, and Chihiro on it.
Ding dong
She heaved what might have been a sigh. She tried to cry, but her body had no more tears to give.
The door clicked open. Footsteps. An ember sparked of whatever Mukuro still had that passed for hope.
Someone's coming to kill me.
She closed her eyes. She didn't need to see who it was.
"Are you going to lie there forever?"
She winced with disappointment. It was Kyoko's, one of the people least likely to murder her. Mukuro didn't open her eyes. If she was lucky, Kyoko might leave on her own.
It didn't work, of course.
"Starving yourself to death won't solve anything." Kyoko said.
You're wrong… It would solve everything.
A gloved hand lightly touched the end of one of Mukuro's tresses.
"Have you been in bed since the trial?" Kyoko asked.
Mukuro didn't respond. After a few seconds, she tenderly opened one eye. Kyoko's own violet eyes were a few inches away as she kneeled beside the bed, hand over her knee. Her normally icy demeanor had softened ever so slightly.
"You have to get up." she said. Her voice was completely even.
Mukuro managed to make her lips part. Her tongue was so parched. A miserable, incomprehensible sound squeezed out that could have been a word, but not even Mukuro knew what it was.
Kyoko sighed.
"I'm not going to kill you, if that's what you want."
It was.
"Just because your name means 'corpse' doesn't mean you have to act like one."
Mukuro couldn't muster the strength to argue. It was so painful to have this conversation, to be forced to think. She just wanted to lie back and let herself be swept back into nonexistence.
How can she be so cruel?
"Leave me al…" Mukuro said. Her voice was so weak and weary, even she almost couldn't hear it. She couldn't even finish the third word.
"Did you forget your promise to me?"
Mukuro's head throbbed. She didn't want to think.
"You promised me that I could watch your motive video."
Mukuro turned onto her back.
"Desk…" she mouthed.
"No, you'll watch it with me. Get up."
Kyoko stood up. Now that the trial was over, she'd transformed back into some kind of immovable sculpture, a being of perfect poise and confidence whose desires could not be argued with. Mukuro looked up at her, begging with her eyes to be left alone to die. But, of course, it didn't work.
Mukuro pulled a trembling hand to the edge of the bed. She barely felt the wooden frame at all. At last, she hauled herself into a sitting position. Her legs were far too weak to stand. She couldn't even raise her head, and settled for just staring at Kyoko's feet. Her head wavered back and forth, barely even attached to her shoulders.
"You've been in here for two days." Kyoko said, answering her unspoken question. Mukuro nodded absently. "Sakura and Aoi are worried."
Somehow, Mukuro forced herself to grab the bed's headboard. Her legs cooperated automatically, and she was on her feet. She wobbled back and forth, feeling like she might drop to the floor at any moment. Kyoko studied her for a few seconds before issuing an order:
"Take a shower."
Mukuro didn't argue. She half-walked, half-fell to the bathroom. She didn't close the door, though Kyoko was kind enough to do it for her. Mukuro smashed against the wall and leaned her face against it for support. Her hand grabbed for the faucet, and the showerhead burst water.
She didn't realize she was still dressed.
(Scene)
"Here."
Kyoko held out a bottle of water. Mukuro saw it only half-consciously, but her body acted for her. Her hands reached out and took it. A moment later, water rushed into and down the desert of her mouth and throat. It was the greatest feeling of relief Mukuro had felt perhaps in her entire life. With it came a rush of sobriety. The world came slightly more into focus.
She hadn't even realized they were in the AV Room.
Her lips stayed wrapped around the bottle, and she found that she couldn't separate herself from it. More and more water raced down her throat, and she felt it all sloshing in her stomach. She almost bent over from pain and pleasure at the same time.
Mukuro's hand pulled the bottle away once it was empty. There wasn't a drop left. She let it fall into a small trashcan to her side, and turned back to find Kyoko pulling out a plastic DVD case. The cover was transparent. Within it was one of the gray motive DVDs. The words "Kyoko Kirigiri" were scrawled onto its surface.
Mukuro leaned against the doorframe of the AV Room. Even with the water in her system, she was still pale, still barely able to stand. Her eyelids were almost too heavy to even open. She wasn't even sure how Kyoko had gotten her here.
"I don't need to see yours." Mukuro sighed. The six words slurred together so much that even she herself could barely hear them. The water was the only thing she could feel inside.
Kyoko shook her head.
"I promised to trade our videos."
"Just tell me what's on it. I trust you."
That was only technically true. Mukuro did trust Kyoko, but she just wanted this to be over as quickly as possible. She could close her eyes and just pretend to listen…
She let herself slide to the floor and leaned against the doorframe. How could anyone be this fatigued from doing nothing at all?
Half of her body was in the AV Room, and half lay outside in the hallway. The hallway was much larger and airier, so the cool air felt almost fresh. Her eyelids shut, and she sat against a tree on top of a beautiful green knoll. The wind swept against her skin and took with it all of her guilt and hate. For a moment—
Kyoko tapped her on her knee. Reluctantly, Mukuro came back to reality. Groaning, she pulled herself to the nearest monitor and plopped heavily into the chair. Kyoko fetched a second pair of headphones, slipped her own DVD into the console, and closed the door.
It was basically what Mukuro expected. A shaky, faraway camera took video of a kind-faced old man with wispy white hair and pale brown eyes. He walked down the steps of an office building and to a black sedan. Monokuma's horrible voice explained that this was Fuhito Kirigiri, Kyoko's grandfather, and then the scene switched. The same car was wrecked up by the side of a road, and a house in the distance – presumably Kyoko's or Fuhito's – was on fire. There was some more taunting…
Mukuro yawned. It was all she could do to keep her eyes open. After an interminably long time, the video ended.
"Do you love your grandfather?" she asked.
The question took them both by surprise. Mukuro hadn't meant to ask it, or even to ask anything at all. It had just… sprouted from nothing.
Kyoko hummed.
"What do you think?"
I think you never answer questions directly…
"You must." Mukuro yawned again.
"Why?"
"You're too moral… too noble…" Mukuro lay back in the chair. She wasn't thinking as she spoke, and the words were as new to her as they were to Kyoko. "You must love your family very much."
This clearly amused the other girl. The corner of Kyoko's lips tugged into a small smile, then the biggest one Mukuro had ever seen from her.
"Me? Noble? Maybe you're not as perceptive as I thought…"
"Liar…" Mukuro breathed. Her eyes closed again, but she kept talking. "In the trial, when you realized what happened… You couldn't speak. You couldn't condemn Makoto or me for something you knew was so wrong. Makoto couldn't speak up against me, even to save his life… Even Byakuya couldn't do it, but…"
"But you could?" Kyoko finished the thought.
"But I could!" Mukuro shouted as she flourished a hand in the air. It was the most effort she'd spent on anything since the trial. Her voice was strong for a moment, then it died. Her face contorted, her teeth grit together, and she tasted the bitter, salty tears flowing down her cheeks. "Oh, oh, Makoto! I killed you!"
She took Kyoko by the shoulders, who recoiled at the unexpected contact. But Mukuro was much stronger, and easily overpowered a girl only slightly smaller than herself. Her muscles tightened without her meaning to, and she squeezed Kyoko so hard that the latter girl cried out in pain.
Mukuro swung the flailing, utterly helpless girl over and onto her lap. Kyoko was something between surprised, afraid, and completely indignant, but Mukuro couldn't help it. Her weeping turned the world into a blurry smudge, and she buried her face in what was probably Kyoko's chest. She retched and heaved for minutes, weeping and destroying whatever piece of cloth her eyes and nose were pressed against. Sometimes she babbled something even she couldn't understand, but mostly she just gasped for air in short, shallow breaths.
Kyoko squirmed in her arms, but there was no way she was going to escape. After a while, she awkwardly raised a hand. She looked away and blushed, clearly embarrassed despite herself, and tried to pat Mukuro's back.
"There… there?" she tried to coo. The words didn't come easily to her; even in this state, Mukuro knew it was the first time Kyoko had ever tried to comfort someone distraught. It didn't help that she was obviously uncomfortable with physical contact.
Mukuro sniffled, then released her. Kyoko fumbled for a second, but managed to regain her footing. Mukuro wiped her bloodshot eyes with her wrist, a smear of translucent teardrops left shining on Hina's loaned jacket. Once she could see clearly, she realized Kyoko was gritting her teeth and rubbing herself where Mukuro had grabbed her.
"Oh no!" Mukuro stood up suddenly. Kyoko recoiled two or three steps, and Mukuro pressed her hands against her own mouth. "Did I hurt you?"
"No." Kyoko lied.
"I'm so sorry, please, I didn't mean—"
"I know."
Kyoko let her arms drop to her side, but Mukuro could tell it was just to keep up the charade of not being injured.
"Kyoko, please don't hate me, I didn't mean to—"
"I don't hate you." Kyoko replied.
She signaled Mukuro to sit back down. Mukuro obeyed, folding her hands in her lap.
"It hurts." Mukuro said. She was still crying, though it wasn't as bad as before. "It hurts so much."
"I know." Kyoko nodded. "I'm hurt, too."
"You?" Mukuro sniffed. "But you're—"
"Noble? Don't call me that." The lavender-haired girl closed her eyes. "I'm not."
"But—"
"When the time came to act, when everyone's lives were on the line, I let my emotions get the better of me." She crossed her arms, and her voice sounded almost angry. "It's shameful."
"No, it's not!"
"It is," Kyoko retorted, and the way she said the words left no room for argument. "Did you think I'm emotionless? That I can ignore everything and focus purely on the job?" She shook her head. "I feel the same things you do. I just hide it when there's nothing to be gained by letting others know what's inside. I couldn't even do that well enough to comfort Makoto in his… final moments."
Mukuro didn't respond. She didn't know how to respond. Kyoko smiled, but there no mirth in it. She seemed sad.
"Despite all of that, despite bragging how I would expose the killer as soon as I could to save everyone…" She shook her head. "It killed you to tell everyone how Chihiro died, I know. But you were able to anyway. You chose the hard path."
"The hard path?" Mukuro repeated.
Kyoko opened her eyes again.
"Your DVD." she said. Her voice was back to normal.
Despite everything, this weird, awkward talk actually had calmed Mukuro's nerves. She still felt horrible, of course, but Kyoko had given her back some energy. With a sigh, she pulled the DVD out of her jacket and slid it into the tray. Kyoko watched the screen intently, but Mukuro, having already seen it, just closed her eyes.
"Oh no, oh no, oh noooo!" an all-too-familiar voice shrilled in her headphones.
Mukuro's eyes shot open. She didn't remember Monokuma saying that in her video. Her alarm was not missed by Kyoko, who watched both the screen and her partner with great interest.
The screen was completely black, save for a single figure in the center. The black-and-white bear himself stood on some invisible surface, back to the camera. He was hunched over, feigning some kind of dejection or humiliation.
"Oh dear, this is beary bad! What do I do?" he asked.
Mukuro sat up and stared at the screen. This was not the creepy hallway. This was not the dorm bedroom. Where was the girl with the blonde pigtails? Her heart was racing.
"I just don't know what to do!" Monokuma continued. "You see, Mukuro, this is normally where I'd play a video of your loved one in danger. I'd imply that he or she is about to die, and the only way for you to save them is to kill someone to escape and go to the rescue! It's what I did for everyone else. But for you…" He shrugged. "You just don't have any loved ones! There's no one in the world you love, and no one in the world who loves you!"
Mukuro stood up, sending the wheeled chair behind her rocketing away. Sweat dripped from her brow and splashed onto the screen. Monokuma's face went fuzzy underneath the water.
"So… I guess I'll just need to improvise! I hereby present the Special Mukuro Ikusaba Exclusive Motive!" Monokuma raised one foot, then twirled to the camera like a ballerina. "Ohohoho! If you mukurotize someone – that is, turn them into a corpse – and you lose the trial… Nothing will happen!"
Monokuma performed a perfect pirouette, jumped into the air, then spun to a stop as he landed. His form was flawless.
"Yes, my murderiest of students! How many lives did you end while in Fenrir? I literally don't know! In honor of your skill, I offer a special one-time Get Out of Jail Free card! Your execution… won't be an execution! You can just go back to your communal school life as if nothing had ever happened… except with one fewer classmate, I guess." Monokuma ran up to the camera, leaned in, and pressed a hand over his mouth, as if whispering conspiratorially. "Personally, I'd kill whoever bugs you the most. That way, it's a win-win situation."
Monokuma pressed his hands on his stomach, then roared with laughter.
"What will life be like after you graduate?!"
Goofy pink font exploded onto the screen.
LOOK FOR THE ANSWER AFTER GRADUATION!
The message faded, and Monokuma laughed like an insane person. A second later, the screen went dark.
Mukuro didn't move. She felt numb. Even number than after the trial. At least then, she'd been aware of her pain and despair. Right now, she felt… nothing.
"Mukuro."
She craned her neck to the side. She'd forgotten Kyoko was there. She tried to speak, but nothing came out.
Kyoko tapped the back of her hand against her chin, watching her closely.
"That wasn't your original video, was it?"
Mukuro tried to respond, but words failed her. Nothing came out when she moved her lips to form words. Sweat trickled down her forehead and into the corners of her eyes. They stood there in silence for some time. Mukuro didn't know how long.
"I don't understand." she said at last.
"Was that your original video?" Kyoko asked.
"I don't… what?"
"Mukuro!" Kyoko frowned. "Was that your original video?"
Mukuro moved over to the nearest chair, then settled into it. She looked at Kyoko's feet.
The girl with blonde pigtails…
It was impossible. She hadn't just imagined that, right? That entire horrible video with the girl who claimed to be her sister?
She pulled her legs up onto the chair, pressing her knees against her breasts. Her emotional numbness shifted very quickly into fear and dread. She was trembling.
This is a trick by Monokuma!
"It's probably a trick by Monokuma." Kyoko said.
Mukuro looked up, shocked at how perfectly Kyoko had echoed her thoughts, except with confidence instead of doubt.
"It… is?" she asked.
"Monokuma says he doesn't lie to us, but he's extremely deceptive." Kyoko shook her head. "I suppose he never technically said that he wouldn't replace our motive DVDs when we weren't looking."
Mukuro considered this. It helped to hear it from someone else. Blood flowed back into her face. A sense of profound relief washed over her, dispelling even her pain from the trial.
"Yeah…" she whispered. "Yeah, that does… make sense, right?"
"Mukuro," Kyoko said. "Tell me what was in your real video."
Mukuro nodded, still thankful for Kyoko's reassurances.
"Well… It was this creepy camcorder footage. Someone was walking in the hallway to the dorms—"
"The dorms here?"
"Yeah, except the lights were all off. They went to a room, I couldn't tell if it was mine, and opened the door. The person holding the camera was… a teenage girl with…"
She burned red and turned away. All she could hear was the sound of her own heartbeats.
Kyoko can't see the video… If I tell her about me being the person with the camera…
"A teenage girl with a Fenrir tattoo," she decided. "I think it was me, but I couldn't tell. I never saw the face."
She looked up to Kyoko with puppy dog eyes, hoping that it wouldn't condemn her immediately. Kyoko simply tapped her chin, listening in neutrally.
"Keep going."
"The girl – me, maybe – went into the room and found another girl on the bed. She was beaten up a lot, and tied up. She was gagged, but I removed the rag in her mouth, and she started begging me—"
"You, in the video, or the camcorder?" Kyoko asked.
Mukuro's heart skipped a beat. Now that she thought about it…
That is weird!
"The camera…" Mukuro whispered. Her eyes unfocused, and she imagined the scene from the recording. "I… She tried to look at me in the video, but then looked to the camera and started begging for me to… forgive her. Saying things like 'it was her fault' and 'I'll never argue with you again,' and calling my 'big sis.' Then the me in the video beat her up a little more, and she seemed to go unconscious." She looked back up to Kyoko, eyes wide. "I swear I have no memory of any of that! I swear, I'd never hurt my sister like that, no matter what."
"Describe the girl in your video." Kyoko pressed.
She didn't say 'your sister.' Does she think…?
"Unbelievably beautiful." Mukuro said. "You've never seen anyone half as gorgeous. Blonde pigtails, each as thick as your torso. The biggest, softest blue eyes you could ever imagine. Pale, flawless skin, except where she'd been beaten up. Even when she cried and her makeup ran, she was still a million times more beautiful than you could ever imagine. Just looking at her, even not knowing she was my sister, made me want to protect her, like I was failing in some way if someone so innocent and perfect could ever be in danger. Any boy would gladly die for a chance with her…" She hesitated, blushed, and finished her thought with a squeaking voice. "I think most girls would, too."
Kyoko absorbed everything Mukuro said, her attention never wavering. At last, she nodded.
"Interesting." was all she said.
"You… do believe me, right?" Mukuro asked.
Kyoko shook her head.
"It's not about belief. What matters is evidence."
"But I—"
"Have been specially picked out by Monokuma before." Kyoko said. "It doesn't surprise me that he'd do it again."
"I was picked out?"
"Who's the girl with the missing memories?" Kyoko asked. "Who's the girl who was beaten almost to a pulp? Who's the girl who doesn't get clothing?"
Mukuro frowned. When you put it that way, it sounded like Monokuma had a special interest in her.
I don't like that idea…
"Did he play that bra trick on you, too?"
"Bra trick?" Kyoko asked.
"The first day, in my closet, there were a bunch of bras that were way too big, and some boxes of tissues."
Kyoko raised an eyebrow.
"No." she said, clearly interested. "But even without that, we found something while exploring the school. Monokuma never mentioned anyone specifically, but it was obviously really about you."
"What did you find?"
The door flew open before Kyoko could respond. Toko stood there, breathing hard. Her hair was more frazzled than usual, and she made no real attempt to hide her awkward relief at finding someone.
"O—oh, Kyoko!" She smiled nervously. "G—guess what?!"
Kyoko stared at her blankly, not even responding.
"I've been l—looking for you," Toko kept going. "I know you're r—really busy with Mukuro and whatever, b—but I'm going to th—the bathhouse right now, wanna come?"
"Bathhouse?" Mukuro asked, utterly perplexed.
"Monokuma opened up some new locations in the school," Kyoko explained. "When we explored them, we found—"
"Y—yeah, that's really interesting! Tell me more later!" Toko snarled. "But I need someone to… uh… wash my back, so come with me right now!"
She said the last part of the sentence too quickly, all as one word. Kyoko was clearly as surprised as Mukuro.
"But—"
Toko ran inside of the room and grabbed Kyoko by the wrist. Mukuro could tell she was squeezing as hard as she could.
"G—great! Glad you agree. I didn't want to say anything, but you smell like s—shit, you know? Let's go right now."
She pulled a semi-resistant Kyoko almost off of her feet and dragged her through the doorway. Mukuro watched them, more confused than anything else. The last thing she saw of them was Kyoko looking back at her.
"Find Taka." she said, and disappeared.
(Scene)
Although Kyoko had left Mukuro with that cryptic order, the Ultimate Unknown found something else pulling at her attention: her stomach. Hunger overwhelmed her the moment she was alone, and she found herself entering the cafeteria almost before she even knew what was happening.
The room was empty but for a single occupant: Celeste. She sat alone in a corner, legs gracefully crossed. What looked like fifty cards were scattered over her table in a complicated pattern Mukuro couldn't discern, being used to play a game she knew she would never understand. An elegant china tea set sat in the center of the table, steam pouring out of the pot's spout. Fittingly for its owner, the set was decorated with black and red flowers. Mukuro wondered where it had even come from.
"Ah, Mukuro!" Celeste looked up at her coolly. "Are you here for an early dinner?"
Dinner?
Mukuro checked the clock on the wall: 3:34.
Her throat was too dry for her to really care much about that, though. She waved awkwardly, then bounded into the kitchen.
Two entire water bottles later, Mukuro had at least quenched the problem of thirst. Someone, likely Hiro or Hina, had left half a loaf of stale bread out. It was almost hard enough to use as a weapon, but Mukuro's teeth grinded it down in seconds. Dry, hardened starch had never tasted so good.
A minute later, Mukuro emerged from the kitchen holding a pile of the first things she'd found in the fridge: three more water bottles, a box of frozen waffles, someone's cold pizza, a plastic box of strawberries, and a jar of some sort of purple jam.
She threw all of it onto the closest table, allowing one of the water bottles to roll away and bounce onto the floor. It didn't matter. The hunger was all that controlled her now. Without regard for dignity or even health, she splashed the strawberries and jam across the waffles and shoved the Frankenstein's monster of a meal into her mouth. Just the taste of it brought satisfaction.
"My, my," Celeste cooed. Mukuro hadn't seen when, but at some point, the gothic girl had picked up her cards and wandered over. She set herself down on the opposite side of the table, carefully avoiding the strange meal Mukuro had created. "I'm happy to see you out and about, finally."
Mukuro managed to swallow the waffle in her mouth before responding. She might not have bothered otherwise, but Celeste seemed like the student who most valued proper manners.
"Yeah…" she said. She picked up a slice of pizza, rolled into a tube despite its half-frozen status, and raised it to her lips. "I heard you guys explored the school without me."
"Indeed, that is so!" Celeste grinned. Suddenly, she pressed against the table. Her eyes were wide and intense. "What do you think of what Byakuya found?"
"Dunno," Mukuro said, then stuffed the pizza into her lips. She swallowed it in three bites. "What did he find?"
That question pleased Celeste greatly.
"Then you haven't heard?"
"I don't know anything except that there's a bathhouse somewhere."
Celeste tapped one of her fingers on the table.
"Apparently, Byakuya, Kyoko, and Taka explored the library on the second floor together. Monokuma confronted them for some reason. I don't know the specifics of the conversation, but… Byakuya either convinced or tricked him into giving him a sheet of paper."
Mukuro had finally sated enough of her hunger to could focus on other things. It was only now that the strangeness of this conversation struck her:
Wait, Celeste?
Celeste was probably the single student she'd spoken the least to. Had they exchanged even one word to each other besides introductions on the first day and during the trial?
Come to think of it, I don't think I know anything about Celeste, except that she's a gambler and likes black. Why would she be interested in me all of a sudden?
"What's on this sheet of paper?" Mukuro asked, suddenly cautious.
"From what I hear… you are." Celeste leaned over. That creepy wide eyes-and-open mouth look returned. "It seems you may no longer be quite the mystery you once were!"
Mukuro furrowed her brow.
"I don't understand."
"Monokuma offered the trio their choice of one student's official school profile," Celeste continued, returning to her normal elegant demeanor. "Before Taka or Kyoko could speak, our dear Byakuya said your name, and so Monokuma produced your file."
Mukuro was suddenly much more interested.
"What was on it?!" she demanded. "Wait, no – why'd he choose me?"
Celeste closed her eyes, smiled, and set her face on her hands.
"To answer your second question first… There's really no other choice but you, is there? Who else would he pick?"
Mukuro bit on her cheek.
Not anyone whose Ultimate talent we already know…
"He could've chosen Kyoko."
"He could have, but he didn't," Celeste shrugged. "As to your first question… Our dear Taka unfortunately confiscated the file before anyone could read it, citing privacy concerns. He said something about how the person actually in the file has the right to read it first, and has carried it around with him since. No one knows what's on it."
Mukuro bit into another slice of pizza.
My profile! It would have my talent, my history, everything about me!
"I've got to find Taka, then!" she said.
"Hold on a moment!" Celeste asked. "Before you go and destroy your own ears with his bellowing, I have a proposal." She set the deck of cards she'd been playing with in the center of the table. "Would you be interested in a game?"
"… Why would I want to play a game?" Mukuro asked, suddenly very suspicious of the sparkle in Celeste's eyes.
"Everyone is very curious about your file… including me. I know Taka wouldn't have altered or read your file since he obtained it, which means it must still be in its original condition. So, I'd like to play a game with you! If I win, we'll go to Taka together, and I'll read aloud your profile, and then you can take it with you as normal."
Mukuro blinked, wondering if she'd heard that right.
"Why would you possibly want to read my profile aloud, then give it back to me?" she asked.
"What, indeed?" Celeste breathed. "Well, the truth is… I don't trust you!" It was almost impossible to believe how politely she could say something like that. "If I have the file myself, before you touch it, then I'll know what was actually on it. I mean no offense, but I don't have quite the same trust in you that Makoto had."
Celeste kept smiling, either oblivious to or willingly ignoring the strangeness of her behavior. There was something predatory in her bearing, something unstated but that screamed to Mukuro that this was the single most untrustworthy person in Hope's Peak.
"No offense, Celeste," Mukuro said, trying to stay polite. "But why would I want to bet the right to read my profile when I get nothing if I win?"
"Did I say nothing?" Celeste traced a finger along the spiral hair of one of her clip-on pigtails. "I don't think I said I'd bet nothing in return… No, I think I might just have something to interest you…"
She reached into an invisible lacey fold of her skirt, then flourished a sheet of paper folded into four parts. Her fingers ran across the edges of one square, lifting it up and revealing a small photograph paperclipped near the top. The picture was a headshot of Makoto.
"What is that?!" Mukuro gasped.
"Why, I believe it's our dear departed Makoto's student profile."
Mukuro stood up and slammed her hands onto the table. Celeste didn't flinch.
"Where the hell did you get that?!"
Celeste raised a hand over her lips and suppressed a giggle, and used the other to wave Makoto's profile tantalizingly close. Perverse pleasure burned behind her eyes.
"Byakuya wasn't the only one to have a run-in with our headmaster while exploring," she explained. "Though, I was alone when Monokuma confronted me. I had a similar conversation, and this is what I now own."
"That doesn't explain why you'd choose Makoto's file!"
"Doesn't it?" Celeste chided. "I'm not like the others, you know. I very much do believe in the power of luck… Yet Makoto, supposedly the luckiest of all of us, suffered the most unfortunate and unjust demise imaginable. If his fortune could fail him, imagine how panicked I, a gambler, must have been."
That's a lie, Mukuro thought. That's a damn lie! She wanted my file, and Monokuma had already given it away, and she knew this was the only way to get it.
Why Celeste would want to read Mukuro's file specifically was unguessable, but… that Makoto file was the only link that still existed to him. It was the only way to learn more about him, unless Mukuro could one day track down the sister he'd mentioned, and the chances of that were slim.
A bead of sweat dripped down Mukuro's nose. She knew this was a bad idea, just as surely as she'd known Sayaka was going to kill someone, and yet…
"Why not just trade for it?" Mukuro offered. "You could just offer me Makoto's and demand the right to read mine in return."
An evil smile tugged at Celeste's lips.
"Why do that, when I can keep what I already have? Besides… I want to know more about you than just a profile can tell me."
Know me?
Celeste continued, happy to answer the question in Mukuro's thoughts.
"It's human nature to want to answer a mystery, and you're the biggest mystery of any of us. I'm almost jealous. People talk about you when you're not around, and even I want to know more. I just haven't had a chance to get to know you since this all started. Sakura, did you know she can tell much of a person just by how they fight her? Or so she says, at least. I'm the same way, except by gambling. Once, in Vienna, I played a few hours of poker with four men I'd never met before. By the third hand, I knew their entire life stories, their number of mistresses, their wealth and income… and other things, I suppose. I bet Ashina can tell the same thing by watching someone swim, or Leon by watching them play baseball. In any case, I want to know more of you. So, no, I won't trade it."
As if to emphasize her point, Celeste folded the profile back up and started to slip it back into her skirt. For a moment, all Mukuro could imagine was losing this chance forever.
"Wait!" she said through gritted teeth. "I… want to choose the game."
Celeste beamed, then daintily set the profile onto the table face-down.
"Of course! Any card game at all, your choice. I might just have to upgrade you to a D-rank…"
What game can I beat Celeste at?
It wasn't an easy question. Mukuro knew the basics of poker and blackjack, but trying to beat the Ultimate Gambler at those things would be like an arm-wrestling contest against Sakura, a baseball match against Leon, or a stuttering contest against Toko. It was suicide to even try it.
Celeste punctuated her thoughts by picking up and shuffling the deck. Her fingers barely seemed to move at all, but the cards just flew in any direction she desired.
What Mukuro needed was a game with no skill involved at all, where the difference between a novice and an expert was nonexistent.
"High card draw." she said at last.
Celeste raised an eyebrow. The request at least surprised her.
"You want to just draw a single card each?"
"That's right."
Celeste mulled this over for a moment.
"D-rank, indeed…" she admitted. "Very well, then! Aces high."
She brought her hands together with a high-pitched smack, pressing the cards into a single pile. A moment later, it was on the table.
"How… do I know you aren't cheating?" Mukuro asked.
"Oh, please!" Celeste scoffed. "You insult me. As if I'd ever need to cheat at a card game. Shuffle it yourself, if you want. Or you can choose which one of us picks first. Either is fine."
Mukuro bit her lip. She reached down a trembling hand and took the first card on the deck. Without checking it, she pushed it against her chest. Neither of them could see its face.
Celeste took a much less dramatic option: she just plucked up the second card and turned it over. It was a Four of Clubs.
Mukuro was shocked by the lameness of the draw, but Celeste's haughty demeanor didn't crack an inch. She looked back up to Mukuro's yet-unknown card and smiled.
"Well?" she asked with faux-kindness.
Is this my chance? Mukuro wondered. The mystery card pressed against her chest, and her beat hard against it. Oh God, I actually have a chance!
She set the card down on the table, back-up. Slowly, carefully, she flipped it.
Two of Hearts.
Celeste's pale, pampered hand swept down upon the student profile. With a broken heart, Mukuro watched the only remaining link to Makoto disappear back into the folds of a lacey black skirt. She must have looked devastated, but Celeste didn't seem to notice.
"Shall we go find Taka?" Celeste asked, her voice as pleasant as ever.