Certain students could be stealthy when they wished it, like Kyoko, Byakuya, and Toko… but Taka wasn't one of them. He was always loud, always obvious, and always seen. Tracking down his whereabouts to the pool on the second floor was an easy task.
It was the first time Mukuro had seen the second floor. Before she had much of a chance to take it in, Celeste glided to the left of the stairs and toward a new room.
"This leads to the pool," she explained. "But… when I open this door, make sure not to panic."
"Panic?" Mukuro repeated.
Celeste smiled, then slid open the door. Beyond it was a room filled with a myriad of pool equipment – nothing especially notable. Separate doors led to the boy and girl changing rooms, which presumably fed into the pool area. Nothing was unexpected…
Except the enormous, terrifying gatling gun installed on the ceiling.
Mukuro's heart skipped a beat. It was beautiful.
"It's one of Monokuma's school defenses, I'm afraid," Celeste said airily. She seemed to mistake Mukuro's expression for fear. "To enter your gender of changing room, you scan your e-Handbook on the panel next to the door. Go through one without scanning, and…"
Mukuro was barely listening. Her eyes darted over the gun again and again.
Definitely active and well-maintained… maybe a M194 Vulcan, or an M161, scraping along the mount means it was probably pulled off a decommissioned jet fighter, 6000 bullets per minute, if the belt into the ceiling can feed it enough. Doesn't have full coverage over both doors from the middle of the room. You could probably slide through the wrong door if the gun's facing the wrong way in advance, but getting back out would be difficult. Definitely impractical; more of a threat or decoration more than a serious deterrence.
She was in love. Her heart beat almost as fast as when she'd held Makoto, and a tiny bit of drool eked out of her lips and crept down her chin. He was the most beautiful gun she'd ever seen. Mukuro could have spent the next five hours running her hands over him and examining his every nook and cranny, learning all of his secrets.
Wait, 'him?' She blinked. Aw, hell, would Monokuma be made if I named him?
Celeste raised an eyebrow, and Mukuro snapped back to reality.
"Um…" She bit her lip. "Scary."
"Indeed," Celeste agreed.
Something in her tone made Mukuro wonder if the other girl had seen the actual emotions in her mind, but Celeste gave no other indication of it. Instead, she turned on her heels and waved her e-Handbook over the panel.
"Monokuma said something about adding another rule," she said vaguely. "Something about not lending out your handbook…"
Mukuro followed suit, scanning her own handbook and entering the girl's changing area. The door slid open over the course of a few seconds. She craned her head around, sad to see the enormous gun disappear behind the automatic doors. They slid closed over the course of seconds.
I'll be back, she promised.
The walls of the girl's changing area were an ugly shade of deep purple, and were decorated by a single poster for some boy band named Tornado. Dumbbells were everywhere, just begging to be dropped and chip the expensive wooden floor. A few exercise machines and punching bags hung here and there, as did a long metal bench. Another door in the back led into the pool.
"I just thought of something," Mukuro said. "How do we know that the student profiles are accurate?"
Celeste paused, then looked back. It seemed as if the thought had never occurred to her.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"I mean… What if Monokuma just made them up to mess with us?"
"Hey!" screeched a certain familiar voice.
Monokuma bounced in from some unknown angle. He stood between Mukuro, who jumped back in surprise, and Celeste, who regarded him coolly and without fear.
"Who are you calling a liar?!" he cried.
Mukuro stared him down for a long time, unable to speak. This was the first time she'd seen Monokuma since the trial, and she was possessed suddenly by the urgent desire to kick him into the wall. Only the knowledge of the bombs inside each robot stopped her.
"Oh dear, oh dear!" Monokuma said. "It seems like Mukuro is thinking about something she shouldn't be. Well, that's okay. Imagining breaking the rules isn't actually against the rules… yet."
"You fucking bastard." Mukuro hissed. "One day, I'll—"
"Oh, yes, yes, avenge your not-boyfriend or whatever. Mukuro, honestly, you're like third on the list of girls Makoto had his eye on, at best, behind Little Miss Withholds Evidence and Childhood Friend."
Mukuro's leg flew forward in a horizontal arc all on its own, and struck Monokuma in his red eye. Most of his head caved in, and his broken body soared into the center of some lockers, which crumbled in an instant.
The collapse of the lockers trapped what remained of Monokuma in a small heap of metal, but it was easy to hear the warning beeps. This finally alarmed Celeste, who gasped in shock and horror, and ran for the pool door. She slammed against it and jumped out of the room without a trace of her normal measured elegance.
Mukuro stood there, watching the site of Monokuma's demise. She was furious, but something in the back of her brain was working on its own.
Pile of lockers means lots of small pieces of metal, she thought automatically. An explosion inside there will act as an IED. Probably encompass everything within thirty feet.
That would take out the entire room. She couldn't go for Celeste's door; covering that distance would take too long. The door back out took a few seconds to open. Judging by how the beeps from Monokuma's corpse were increasing in frequently, there was little chance of escape.
Mukuro's body dodged backward. Her foot caught the edge of a metal bench and kicked it so it would stand on its short side, reaching as tall as a human. She gripped one of its long edges, took it as a shield, and slid herself and the bench behind the thick punching bag hanging from the ceiling. Her hands raised to her ears.
BOOM
Sound. Heat. A wave of force. Hundreds of metal shards whizzing past her face. Splinters of what had been a locker carving through the punching bag, then slicing into the bench. Mukuro being thrown against the wall, hiding behind her makeshift bulwark, her slim body the perfect size and shape to escape any harm.
Mukuro kicked down what was left of the bench. It shattered on impact with the floor. The room was completely obliterated. The walls and ceiling were more metal than wood and plastic, the school monitor and camera were minced to pieces, and even the heavy metal weight machines were knocked onto their sides and broken into bits. Slivers of locker and robot bear pierced almost every inch of the floor and turned it into a miniature minefield.
Mukuro's heart was barely beating. There wasn't a scratch on her. In fact, she'd never felt calmer in her life.
Then it struck her what she'd just done. She examined her hands and feet with the greatest surprise, unable to comprehend how she'd just kicked a robot's head in and survived an almost pointblank explosion.
"Oh, jeez!" whined a knee-high voice. "Do you know how expensive it'll be to fix this?!"
Mukuro jumped back. Mechanically, her body took on a practiced stance, and her hands raised up to her face. She was ready to rip open a man's chest and pull out his heart… if he had one. The new Monokuma scanned what was left of the girl's changing area, then shook his head.
"This is why senators keep slashing the education budget!" he whined. "Taxpayers think they're sending dollars to pay for improved school infrastructure, but it all just gets funneled into the 'fixing things flat-chested teenage girls broke while upset at how flat they are' fund."
"You…" was the only word Mukuro could force out.
"… are the sexiest, most lovable bear in the world?" Monokuma's face turned red. "Aw, you shouldn't have, but don't forget – student-faculty relationships are strictly forbidden!" He moved his paws to his stomach, then laughed. "Ah, oh well. I was planning on killing you with the Spears of Gungnir, but honestly, the time for that's passed. I think I made the right call not killing you at the start of the game; this is slightly more fun."
Mukuro huffed. Monokuma's rambling wasn't just annoying, it was getting nonsensical. Spears of Gungnir? Killing her at the start of the game? What did those things even mean? She wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face again as revenge for Makoto… but there wasn't enough material left in the room for her to survive another explosion.
"Anyway, Mukuro, I came here to tell you something very important: bears do NOT lie. Anything you find in this school, be it photos, files, books, or DVDs, is always real. So that student profile you were so worried about? No need to be concerned: it's real."
"You fucking bastard!" she said again.
"Oh, please. What would you be using your time to do if you weren't in a killing game? Manga? Video games? Movies? Betraying your sister? Dating? Fashion? All a complete waste of time."
That fourth example struck a chord. For a second, Mukuro's anger waned.
"W—wait!" she said. "That video I had of my sister, the girl with blonde hair and blue eyes, is it real?"
"Ugh!" Monokuma raised his paws above his head and stamped the ground. "Are you stupid, or are you just not listening to me? … Probably both. You're lucky I don't give grades, or you'd get an M for 'Mukuro!' Fine, I'll repeat myself just this once: anything you find in this school is always real, unless someone in the game tampers with it in a fully justified attempt to kill you."
Then the first DVD has to be real… Mukuro thought. I do have a sister.
Mukuro dropped her stance and resumed a normal standing position. Shards of metal were embedded everywhere into the floor, but she stepped around them easily.
Monokuma pressed for the pool door to open without looking back.
The pool was spacious, beautiful, and clear, everything you would want it to be… but that barely even registered. To its side, Taka, Celeste, and Hifumi stood, jaws dropped.
"M… Mukuro!" the first sputtered. "You're alive?!"
"Looks like." she said.
"You attacked Monokuma!" Celeste cried. She still hadn't quite recovered her normal composure. "H—how?!"
"Yeah…" Mukuro reached a hand to her other arm and rubbed it. "His metal frame's not as tough as it looks. It only took one good kick to collapse most of it."
"That doesn't explain how you survived, though." Taka said. His eyes moved all over Mukuro's body, searching in vain for a broken bone or a trace of blood.
"Oh, I just dodged behind a metal bench to use as a shield."
Hifumi gasped.
"So, this is what dad meant by 3D being as good as 2D…"
Mukuro rubbed her arm again and hummed. She hadn't been the center of attention like this since the first day; she wasn't sure she liked it.
"Taka," she said. "Kyoko mentioned you had something for me?"
"Oh, yes!" he shouted, rather needlessly. "Byakuya retrieved your school student profile!" He reached into his uniform jacket and removed a manilla envelope. A white sheet of paper was inside. "I've kept it safe from prying eyes since. I'll admit, however, that I am also curious as to what's inside."
Taka handed it over to her rather stiffly, then crossed his arms.
It was only an envelope with a single sheet of paper peeking out of it. It couldn't have weighed more than a quarter of an ounce… and yet, in Mukuro's hands, it seemed to be as heavy as the school itself. She watched it carefully for some time, half-expecting Monokuma to fly in and whisk it away, or something equally terrible…
But nothing happened.
Mukuro looked up to Celeste, who hung behind Taka. The gothic girl was regaining her normal detached calmness, but she wasn't quite back to normal yet. Celeste had a strong poker face, perhaps literally the strongest in the world, but Mukuro could sense the unease radiating off her. The Ultimate Gambler made no approach to make good on their bet from the cafeteria.
She's afraid of me… If I read the profile myself, right now, she won't do anything about it.
But…
"Celeste," she said. "Could you read it aloud for me? I'm… feeling a bit dizzy."
She held out the envelope. Celeste's face twitched in surprise, but she regained her footing almost instantly.
"Of course!" she said, and accepted it.
She stepped to the side and faced everyone else. Again, it was a subtle deception, but Mukuro knew instantly that Celeste was positioning herself so that no one else could see the page.
But why? she wondered. She must know I'll check it after she reads it aloud… There's no way to lie about what's on there.
Celeste opened up the envelope with a flourish, pointedly keeping the actual sheet of paper invisible behind it. If she did anything dishonest – used a sleight of hand, scribbled something, or anything else like that – Mukuro couldn't see it.
Again, Celeste would have known that Mukuro would check the profile as soon as they were done. No matter the quality of her handwriting, it would be impossible to add anything to a typed sheet of paper. To Mukuro, her actions made no sense at all.
Taka and Hifumi were oblivious to all of this, and Celeste seemed to think Mukuro was as well, so she read on without issue.
"Name: Mukuro Ikusaba," Celeste began. "Sex: Female, Height: 5'7", Weight: 97 lbs., Blood Type: A, Birthdate: December 24, Chest Size: 80cm—"
"Wait, what?!" Blood rushed to Mukuro's face. She instinctively covered her already-clothed breasts and turned away from the boys. "Why does a school profile have that?!"
Celeste shrugged.
"Who knows? They probably have those numbers for all of the girls. Shall I continue?"
Mukuro huffed.
"Go ahead." she said, still a little angry about her lost dignity.
"You are… The Ultimate Soldier." Celeste's eyes flit down and down. She began to read something word-for-word, and her tone became a little stiffer and more formal. "'Although small for her age, she was a military specialist trained in every weapon type imaginable. She showed interest in the military from childhood and soon found herself completely absorbed in it. In elementary school, she won a survival game tournament and began writing for military magazines. Just before entering middle school, while she and her family were on a vacation to Europe, she disappeared. The story of a young Japanese girl being kidnapped quickly took over Japanese media outlets. An intense international investigation turned up no information, and she was never found. However, she reappeared in Japan three years later, alone and completely unannounced. She revealed that she had joined a mercenary group known as Fenrir for those three years. She insisted that she hadn't been kidnapped, that she'd received battle training of her own volition. However, she never revealed why she decided to return when she did. Despite her time in battle, she has never been wounded, bruised, or scarred.'"
"Soldier…" Mukuro mouthed.
Taka slammed his fist into an open palm. He was saying something, but Mukuro didn't hear him.
I'm a soldier…
The Ultimate title wasn't a complete shock. Byakuya's insults and Toko's fears had prepared her for something like this, and the second motive video had called her a killer.
What did shock her was the paragraph that followed. To be an expert in military stuff, sure, she could understand that. But she wrote for magazines? She won some big survival game tournament? She was the subject of an international investigation and media circus? She abandoned her family? And even the school, even the famous Hope's Peak with all of its resources, barely knew anything about her time in Fenrir?
It was simultaneously both more and less than she'd hoped for. She finally knew something substantial of the Mukuro-that-was, but it was only from the perspective of others, and it wasn't nearly enough to fill the void within herself.
Hifumi's screechy voice brought her back to reality.
"Miss Ikusaba!" he cried. "I remember that incident! The one about the missing girl! I had no idea it was you!"
"It does ring a bell…" Celeste agreed, tapping her finger on her chin.
"Yes, I followed it closely, as well." Taka said. "I recall seeing images of the girl on TV. I'm ashamed I didn't recognize you on sight."
Mukuro shook her head.
"I… don't know anything about that," she said, and gave weak smile. "I guess I was alright, though."
"Are you really a specialist in all weapons?" Hifumi asked. He was in awe. "This is just like in Blades of Princess Baldra, when the princess…"
He started rambling about some anime Mukuro had never heard of, or maybe it was a manga. She ignored it all, except for the initial question.
I did disarm Leon's sword, identify that gatling gun, and beat up a robot…
"Maybe." she interrupted him. "I don't really know."
She reached over and plucked the envelope out of Celeste's hands without asking. She didn't care about the rudeness. She wanted to see if Celeste had added anything, of course, but what leapt to mind first was the picture. How did the Mukuro of times past dress? How professional and, well, soldiery did she look?
And there she was: the Mukuro of the past. A pale teenage girl whose black hair was parted over her right eye and into two long triangles. She was in a school uniform, a black-and-white one that told her nothing, and her eyes were thin and expressionless. If the girl in the photo felt anything at all, she didn't show it.
She doesn't look like a killer, Mukuro thought. *I*… don't look like a killer.
But Mukuro-of-the-Past also didn't look like Mukuro-of-the-Present. The old version of her looked so professional, so composed. She seemed so… in control of everything.
Celeste folded her hands in front of her, smiling with that faux-politeness she always seemed to have.
"Well, Mukuro… Taka, Hifumi, I think I'll take my leave." She looked up, pretending to think. "I'm a little tired, actually. I may go lie down."
With that, she stepped away and started back to the girl's changing room. Taka nodded rigidly, then crossed his arms.
"It's good to know your capabilities, Mukuro," he said. "I don't think we can fight Monokuma, but… it is still to everyone's great benefit to know our own talents. Perhaps you should inquire with Sakura about—"
Sakura! Now there's someone who can tell me if I'm an expert in 'every weapon imaginable.'
"I've gotta go." she said, and ran out.
(Scene)
Like Taka, Hina and Sakura were not among the stealthier of students. One was loud and always cheerful, while the other was a tanned colossus among ordinary-sized people. Tracking them down required only slightly more effort than it took to find Taka, and soon enough, Mukuro was in classroom 2-B.
"Mukuro!" Hina punched the air as soon as she saw who'd opened the door. "You're up again!"
So many things were on Mukuro's mind that she honestly didn't know where to start… But all of that disappeared as soon as she saw who else was in the classroom.
Like the other classrooms, 2-B's windows were covered by massive steel plates bolted onto the wall. Sakura was by one of them, testing it with her superhuman strength. A bent crowbar was on a desk, who knew where they'd found it, and there was obvious damage to the paint on the wall around the plates. The plates themselves weren't even scratched, though, and Sakura's efforts here had clearly been in vain.
More importantly, a third student sat in the back.
Sayaka…
In all the excitement, Mukuro had completely forgotten about her. The idol quietly slumped in a chair at the back of the room, staring at nothing. Her pupils were so small as to be almost invisible, mere tiny dots of dark blue lost in a sea of empty white barely paler than the rest of her blood-drained face. Her hair was unkempt and wild, fraying off in every direction imaginable. Days-old makeup caked around her thin lips and under her eyes, some of which was lost in the black bags she'd gained from an obvious lack of sleep.
If Sayaka had been catatonic before, she seemed barely alive now. Her eyes didn't so much as twitch when Mukuro walked in, and her chest seemed not to rise or fall as she, presumably, sucked in air. Her hands dangled listlessly to her sides, and it was almost a miracle that she didn't just slide out of the chair entirely. If she had, Mukuro had no doubt that she would have just stayed on the floor, dead in every way except for breath. She honestly could have been a corpse.
Despite all of this, her clothing was fresh and spotless, and the cast she'd worn around her wrist was gone. Even the cute kitten hairclip was still there. The contrast between her bright, perfect uniform and her numb, glazed-over face was almost nauseating.
She's killing herself from the guilt, Mukuro knew.
A sallow feeling rose in her gut. How could Sayaka, the girl who'd betrayed Makoto, take his death this hard, while Mukuro had managed to forget about it, however briefly, in just two days? She looked away, as heavy with guilt as Sayaka.
Hina seemed oblivious to what passed through Mukuro's mind, but Sakura understood it all in an instant.
"Assigning blame to yourselves, or any of us, is pointless," she said stoically. "The only one responsible is Monokuma."
"Sayaka…" Mukuro muttered. She still couldn't face her. "Is there anything we can do to help her?"
"She takes Makoto's death very harshly," Sakura's deep growling turned more sympathetic. "Hina and I hope to return her to some normality, though it will not be instant."
"I hate Monokuma more than anything!" Hina groaned. "Even when he's not around, he's still ruining everything."
"I take offense to that!" screeched an unwelcome voice. Again, Monokuma was suddenly just there. "How dare you impugn my good name!"
"Impugn?!" Hina gasped. "I don't even know how to spell that…"
"The G is silent!"
"Why are you here?" Sakura asked, hostility brimming in her voice.
"Why are any of us here?" Monokuma's voice became wistful, and he looked to the ceiling. "It's a question that's baffled philosophers for thousands of years…"
"You know what she meant," Mukuro growled. "You worthless excuse for a—"
"I just came to tell you that your friend destroyed the girl's changing room," He pointed to Mukuro. "You two get the most use out of it, so I thought you'd like to know it's off-limits until I fix it. I'd estimate it should be… tomorrow!"
Monokuma's faux-thoughtfulness did nothing to ease the tension in the room. Both Sakura and Mukuro were ready to launch themselves at him.
"Well, anywayyyyyy," Monokuma shrugged. "I can see you two aren't in the mood, so I'll see you all again later."
He bounced away. Sakura and Mukuro both looked back to Hina, who furrowed her brow and mouthed something.
"I-M-P-U-N-E…" she said silently. "Where's the G go…?"
Mukuro sighed and looked back up to Sayaka. The latter girl seemed not to hear the conversation at all. She knew that the only thing on the Ultimate Pop Sensation's mind was Makoto.
"Sayaka…" she said again. "I'm… sorry, too."
"Forgive us for not visiting you, Mukuro," Sakura said. "We thought that you would be better served by some time alone…"
"It's fine," Mukuro replied. "Actually, I came here to talk to you guys about some something really… well, cool, I guess."
She launched into an explanation of the last half-hour's events, starting with the bet with Celeste – Kyoko seemed like she might resent their private meeting being told to others, and Mukuro didn't want to talk about the motive DVDs anyway. When she finished, she set her profile on the desk in front of her.
"You beat up Monokuma and got away with it?!" Hina cried, breathless and exhilarated. "That's the most amazingly awesome thing ever! So, what's your talent?!"
"Read it for yourself." Mukuro offered.
Hina scooped up the file in an instant.
"The Ultimate Soldier!" she breathed, wonderstruck. Stars were in her eyes. "No way! That's incredible! And I love your photo here! We should do your hair like it used to be!"
She read the file aloud for Sakura. It was the third time Mukuro had heard it (having it read it privately once after Celeste), and it still teased her just as much as before.
"So, you ran away from your parents to join the military?" Hina asked. For a moment, she seemed to look at Mukuro in a different light. "That's incredible. Do you remember any of it?"
"No," Mukuro admitted. She hugged herself for a moment, and was lost in thought. "It doesn't ring any bells at all… For all I know, it could have happened to someone else."
"But it says it happened to you!"
"Don't get me wrong. I believe the profile's right." Mukuro shrugged. "But it could have said anything, and I would feel the same way. I ran away from home and fought wars for three years?" Mukuro's heart sank, and she managed a very weak smile. "I don't feel anything more like that person than I did before I read this."
She didn't add how the idea actually made her feel. Every few minutes, Mukuro still wondered about the girl in the video, her blonde, blue-eyed sister begging for her sympathy and forgiveness. To have had an entire family, and then just abandoned them to go on a crazy adventure…? And could she really have hurt that sister of hers?
"Anyway," Mukuro said. "I actually came here because I figured there's only one other person in the school who could test how much of an Ultimate Soldier I really am."
Hina nodded happily, and turned to Sakura. But for her part, the Ultimate Martial Artist hesitated.
"I mean no disrespect, Mukuro," she said. "But… are you certain you're ready? You said during the trial that your back was injured, and Makoto's death would unsettle anyo—"
"No!" Mukuro shook her head. "I just beat up Monokuma in a rage, and if I am some kind of legendary warrior, then…"
"Oh man, oh man!" Hina leapt up, then started jumping up and down. "Are you two gonna have a sparring match?!"
Sakura crossed her arms. Mukuro did the same. A twinge of excitement sparked within each of them.
"Yes." they said at once.
(Scene)
Sakura stood just off-center in the gym, motionless. Her arms, each as thick as anyone else's entire torsos, were crossed, and though her expression was cool and imperturbable, it was easy to read the curiosity in her eyes.
Mukuro stood maybe ten feet away. She was less stoic.
What she'd done in the changing room to Monokuma had been pure instinct. Now that she was actively channeling her knowledge, calling upon it for a conscious purpose, she had no idea what she was doing. She tried to summon that martial arts stance that had let her beat up their captor, but all she managed was something out of a Hollywood movie. Her feet were apart, her fists were raised, and she hunched slightly to shrink her profile, but… she could just tell that this wasn't quite right. Maybe this would be enough against someone else who didn't know how to fight, like Leon or Hiro or something, but against the world's greatest martial artist, and a giant almost a foot higher than herself? Never in a million years.
Will my instincts return if she comes at me?
Mukuro licked her lips. Imagine what that would represent. If her fighting skills could return when appropriate, could her other lost knowledge do the same?
Hina and Sayaka sat on one of the bleachers to the side, the former of whom was stuffing what looked like three donuts into her face at the same time. The latter still stared off into space, her eyes unfocused in the vague direction of the stage. On the other side of the bleachers were Celeste, Hifumi, Taka, Leon, and Hiro. The boys all spoke with each other excitedly, pointing at one or the other of the girls on the floor, while Celeste sat apart, twirling a finger through her hair and half-ignoring the scene.
Mukuro wasn't quite sure what she thought of having an audience, but there was no way to ask them to leave anymore. At least Byakuya, Toko, and Kyoko weren't there to watch her potential failure…
As if on cue, the double doors to the gym flew open. Toko came in first, and held the door for the Ultimate Affluent Progeny behind her. She let the door close as soon as he was in, but Kyoko slipped inside anyway. Mukuro sighed.
"How did you all even hear about this?" she demanded.
"Word spreads fast when the world's just twelve people!" Taka bellowed. "And since there's not much else in the way of news, so does your Ultimate talent."
Mukuro shook her head.
"I meant, why is everyone interested in us fighting?"
"'cause what else is there to do in this school?!" Hiro yelled. "I've got a bet of two-thousand yen on Ogre, by the way."
"Hiro!" Sakura growled. "You dishonor the name of martial arts. You will retract that wager with whomever you made it with."
Hiro laughed.
"No, no, no, I'm just joking!"
But then Hiro leaned over to Leon, and the way they whispered, and the blue look on their faces, said otherwise.
"There's something else to consider," Byakuya said, grinning. "Up until now, Sakura has been the only person who could just kill anyone without a plan or a weapon. When the next person decides to become Blackened, it'll be important to know whether or not you're a good target."
Hina huffed as she stared him down. She probably would have shouted something at him, but her habit of stuffing donuts down her face made her momentarily unable to respond. With no one else to challenge him, Byakuya took a standing position in the corner of the gym, away from the bleachers and everyone else. Toko joined him at a slight distance and wrung her hands back and forth. She was sweating and nervous – clearly far too upset for just watching a simple martial arts sparring match. In fact, she was barely paying any attention at all.
Wonder what's on her mind?
Last to take a position was Kyoko, who settled down on the Hina-Sayaka side of the bleachers.
Some moments passed. Mukuro awkwardly tried to stretch, pushing out one leg and pressing her weight against it, but Sakura remained cool.
"I also would have preferred a lack of audience, save perhaps Hina," she said. "Are you still comfortable?"
"I guess," Mukuro half-lied. "It doesn't really matter."
Eventually, Mukuro finished her useless stretching. She jumped from one foot to the other, uncertain of what would come next.
"Sakura," she said, swallowing. "Don't go easy on me. The worst that could happen is you bruise me or something."
Sakura closed one eye, then smiled.
"I thought your profile said you'd never been wounded before?"
Mukuro couldn't help but grin.
"Heh… I guess it did."
Mukuro nodded, then took back up her martial arts stance.
"I guess… I guess I'm ready when you are."
Sakura nodded almost imperceptibly, then finally uncrossed her arms. She faced slightly to the side from Mukuro, then brought up two hands at chin- and waist-height. The din of the others' voices muted.
Sakura made the first move. She came up slowly, enough so that Mukuro could have escaped if she'd wanted to. Carefully, the Ultimate Martial Artist threw her first punch.
A test, Mukuro knew instantly.
It wasn't fast enough to do any real damage, and it came at an awkward angle. Even a novice could have dodged it, and Mukuro's body moved out of the way automatically.
Sakura's next punch came ever-so-slightly faster. Mukuro twisted her body out of the way without even thinking.
Next, Sakura tried a low kick. Mukuro heard the others gasp as her feet leapt off the ground, over Sakura's leg, and connected straight in the center of her mass.
Sakura fell back, clearly more surprised than injured. She paused for a moment, then nodded.
She threw another punch, this one faster. Mukuro's hand intercepted it and knocked it off-target. Another punch. Mukuro weaved under it, and was as surprised as everyone else when her hand turned into a fist and smashed Sakura's shoulder.
"Rrgh!" Sakura growled.
The attacks came faster and faster, but Mukuro could tell that Sakura still wasn't being serious. Each punch or kick came just slowly enough that it would hurt, but not bruise, and that made them easy to dodge or block. She waited for a few seconds, effortlessly backing up or ducking to the side to evade the attacks, then grabbed her by the wrist, twisted behind Sakura's back, and grabbed her opponent by the waist. Without thinking, Mukuro lifted two-hundred-something pounds of weight, heaved it up into the air, and threw Sakura ten or fifteen feet.
Screams and gasps. Mukuro ran forward at the same speed her victim flew, and just before Sakura hit the floor, she jumped up and delivered a perfect flying kick into Sakura's stomach. The tan giant went flying again, this time into a bleacher near Kyoko.
Metal and plastic exploded. Mukuro raised her hands to her lips, terrified that she'd gone too far, and others started screaming about the nurse's office.
Sakura jumped out of the wreckage of the bleacher, only slightly bruised. She watched Mukuro for a moment, then grinned.
This time, Sakura did not hold back. Mukuro dodged the first punch, but only barely. It whizzed by her head with enough speed and force to certainly break her nose had it struck true.
A second punch, then a third, then a flurry. Mukuro evaded or blocked them all, each of her arms and legs moving on its own, each one with its own mind and purpose that she couldn't keep up with. Her hands and feet would automatically punch or kick back when it was time, and Sakura would dodge or block each one. Trying to think about anything consciously would have disrupted her body's instincts and spelled the instant end of the duel – for this was no longer just a test.
Seconds passed, then a full minute. Fist met air, open palm met wrist, and each strike by either girl missed its target by a half-inch or less. Mukuro still didn't really understand what was happening, but something in her mind warned her:
Sakura is better than me.
It would have been invisible to any observer, but Mukuro and Sakura both knew it. They were both sweating, but Mukuro's responses to Sakura's relentless assault came less and less frequently. This duel would last for minutes, or even an hour, but in the end, the Ultimate Martial Artist would win a fistfight with the Ultimate Soldier, and there was nothing that could change that fact.
A glint of light shimmered on the bleacher Sakura destroyed. Mukuro's eye caught on several thin metal tubes that had been the skeleton of the seats. Each was about two or three feet in length.
Her body maneuvered around Sakura, and she leapt backward and onto the undamaged bleacher above it. Hina said something, but Mukuro's only attention was on those metal tubes. She kicked one up without thinking, and when it reached waist-height, she spun and struck its end with her foot.
It rocketed forward like a missile. Sakura's eyes went wide, and she barely escaped to the side. The spear – and that's what it was – went flying across the full length of the gym. Someone screamed, and Mukuro's weapon went straight for Hiro's head. He didn't have time to dodge out of the way, and—
Leon pushed him at the last second. The spear sliced through two of Hiro's dreadlocks, then penetrated the wall.
"Wooooaaaarrghhh!" Hiro screamed. He fell off the bleacher, then curled into a ball.
"Oh my God!" Mukuro's heart leapt out of her chest. "No, I—"
Sakura was on Hiro in a second. She kneeled over him and pressed a hand to his head.
"He is alright," she said. "Merely scared."
Mukuro ran over. Hifumi, Leon, and Celeste pulled back in fear, the last of whom was wearing the same expression as when Monokuma had started beeping before the explosion.
"Oh my God, Hiro, please, I—Sakura!" Mukuro babbled. "I don't know what came over me, I didn't… I didn't…!"
"I am uninjured," Sakura rumbled. "And Hiro…" They looked down to Hiro, who was still in a fetal position. "He will be alright."
"I… I don't know…" Mukuro grabbed her head. "I don't—I didn't—"
"Tch!" Byakuya turned away and made for the door. "Dangerous psychopath."
"No!" Mukuro whimpered. "I… I didn't mean to…"
"That would have killed Sakura, had she not been the world's greatest martial artist, or Hiro, if not for Leon saving both of your lives." he replied. He didn't look back at her. "Guess you're even with him for that incident with the sword, huh?"
"But… I…" Mukuro teared up. She looked back to the metal tube buried halfway into the wall. It would be impossible to ever remove.
"You didn't even have the decency to make the trial interesting." Byakuya finished.
The rest of whatever Mukuro was trying to say came out as an incoherent garble. The world turned into a blurry haze, and she ran to the door. A watery shape that could have been Byakuya stepped to the side, and Mukuro pushed her way out, and was gone.
(Scene)
Mukuro sat, pressed herself into the corner, and buried her face in her knees. She wasn't even sure what room she was in, but it smelled dusty and had small spaces to hide in. She sniffed, weeping quietly, and hoped that no one would find her. Her eyes were bloodshot again, and her throat was as tight as it was during the trial. It was hard to breathe.
It had all happened so quickly. Her body had just operated on its own, and now everyone was afraid of her. And what's worse, they had every right to be. No – it would be crazy for them not to be.
Her tears cleared for a moment, and she saw her hand. That damn Fenrir tattoo. She wanted to claw it off. That first day Byakuya had seen her hand, he'd freaked out and started sweating. The others had given her the benefit of the doubt, and she'd sent their good graces hurling across the gym and toward a Hiro's head. It was only Leon, of all people, who'd averted disaster.
All that contempt they'd had for him, and he was the hero between us…
At length, she allowed herself to look up. She was in a room filled with shelves and shelves of books.
The library, she thought. Someone mentioned a library…
It was very small, though, and a lot of stuff was scattered haphazardly on the floor. Cardboard boxes full of blueprints and unorganized books were everywhere.
She craned her head left. There was a row of books at knee-height, perfect for a girl sitting on the floor. She read some of their titles.
Case 78-13 – Kobayashi Twins… Case A412 – Watanabe Murders… Case 8001 – Ito Murders… Genocide Jack Serial Murders – TOP SECRET…
She frowned, then turned to her right. This other row was full of files.
Sato Clan… Kuzuryu Clan… Yamaguchi Clan…
These were yakuza clans, she knew.
Sheer curiosity momentarily overwhelmed her. Those terrified faces the other students had worn disappeared from her vision, and Mukuro stood up to examine more shelves.
It wasn't long before she realized that this wasn't the library – it was an archive. An archive of secret or even criminal information. She picked a file at random and read the scrawling handwriting on its cover.
Toshi Bank Conspiracy
She opened it and was greeted by an array of complicated math equations dealing with (she thought) finances, faraway photos of important-looking men in black suits, and a map of Japan with pins in various cities. The dense numbers were too much for her to read, but from what she could guess, this looked like someone's effort to prove an illegal conspiracy orchestrated by a banking syndicate.
She placed the file back where she'd found it and took another one at random from a different shelf. This one was about a South American dictator being assassinated. Another file. This one was about how a passenger jet suffered an "accident" while transporting a politician. Another file. This one was about a mercenary company in Southeast Asia, the Rakshas…
She gasped.
She dropped the current file and grabbed everything from that row. More mercenary companies, more professional assassins…
But nothing about her company. Either this archive didn't have anything about Fenrir, or it had been removed before she'd found it.
Disappointed, she slipped back onto the floor and ran a hand through her hair. For the first time since the gym, she felt completely sober. She wanted to ask the obvious question, which was why a room like this existed at a school, but something else was on her mind:
I almost killed two innocent people today.
It was the most important, horrible fact in the world, and she'd let herself forget it. How terrible could she be? Was it possible to make it up to Hiro and Sakura? Was it possible to convince everyone that she wasn't a 'dangerous psychopath,' as Byakuya had called her?
She sighed. She wasn't crying anymore, but dry tears still stained her cheeks. She got up again and moved to the door.
This door led into the library itself. Another one led, presumably, into the hallway. She must have run through this place without even registering what it was.
The library looked exactly as she expected it to. Shelves of books towered over her, daring her to spend the rest of life reading their contents. These books were normal, though: mundane histories, simple fiction, and the like.
Her eyes caught on a simple, well-worn book in a corner. There were three words on its spine: WILDERNESS SURVIVAL GUIDE.
There was something about it that triggered Mukuro. She plucked it off the shelf. The cover was nothing but those three words over an image of a forest. There wasn't even an author's name.
Something in the back of Mukuro's mind was turning on and off. She flipped to a random page. The edges of the paper were torn here and there, and small stains covered up some of the words, but it was still easy to read.
If the bear does not move toward you, move away slowly and sideways. This allows you to keep an eye on the bear and avoid tripping over objects you do not see behind you. Bears are not threatened by sideways movement, unless it is toward a cub. Do not run.
By the third sentence, Mukuro was mouthing each word she'd read before she read it.
If the bear pursues you, stop and hold your ground. You cannot outrun a bear. Bears will chase fleeing animals more easily than they will approach ones that stand their ground. Do not climb a tree. Except for polar bears, most common bears can climb trees. Most bears are not aggressive enough to attack a human unprovoked, again with the exception of polar bears.
"Leave the area and take a detour…" Mukuro said softly. She kept reading; that was the next sentence. "If this is impossible, wait until the bear moves away on its own. If there is only one escape route, do not take it until the bear leaves first."
By the end of the paragraph, Mukuro was certain she'd read the entire book before, maybe multiple times. She flipped to the interior cover of the book, hoping she might even find her own name scrawled in it. There was nothing – but she still knew that this book or one like it had been given to her once upon a time.
She slipped it into her jacket to read again later.
There was a desk in the center of the library. A few hand-selected books were piled on its corner, brought there by some bored student.
Byakuya or Toko… she thought. No one else seems like they'd read much except Kyoko and Celeste, and they'd probably clean up after themselves.
There was a laptop on another desk. She stepped over to it and pressed the power button. Nothing happened.
Broken…
She watched it sadly. Chihiro might have been able to fix it, but…
Lastly, there was an envelope on a short shelf of books. The paper had yellowed over time, but the top was ripped open. A sheet of paper peeked out of it.
She picked it up and read it:
From the Hope's Peak Academy Executive Office
Throughout the years, we have been committed to shaping the youth who will one day shape the world. We have a long, proud history as an institution of higher learning with full governmental support. However, Hope's Peak Academy must now lower the curtain on its glorious history, for the time being. This decision was not an easy one to make, but serious issues beyond our control have made it necessary. But make no mistake – this is not the end for Hope's Peak Academy. We intend to reopen our doors as soon as the issues forcing our closure have been resolved. And I would like to personally and sincerely thank everyone for your help and support over the years. That being said, it is the end for now… And I would like to personally and sincerely thank everyone for your help and support over the years. For now, we are awaiting official governmental authorization to formally cease operations…
"It's real."
Mukuro flipped around. Kyoko was in the library doorway.
"It was covered in dust when we found it," she continued. "It's at least a year old, too."
"Kyoko…" Mukuro started. "I… I don't…"
"What do you think?"
"Of the letter?" Mukuro asked, exasperated. "I don't—"
"Tell me."
She huffed, annoyed.
"Maybe whoever's controlling Monokuma took over the abandoned school, and trapped us all here… though, that doesn't explain why no one knew that Hope's Peak had shut down."
Kyoko smiled.
"You figured that out faster than Byakuya did."
"Does everyone hate me?" Mukuro asked. She didn't care about the letter at all.
Kyoko took a moment before responding.
"You should avoid Hiro for a bit," she admitted. "You should also go and thank Leon for saving… well, both of you. Sakura isn't angry, though. She and Aoi are worried about you. They're searching the first floor."
"And you're searching the second floor… alone?" Mukuro looked away. "No one else wanted to look for me, huh?"
"You should come get dinner." Kyoko said.
"Dinner?" Mukuro looked to a nearby clock. It was 7:00 PM. "God…"
"Come on," Kyoko said, and Mukuro let herself be led away.
(Scene)
The cafeteria was incredibly awkward, even more than Mukuro would have guessed. Hina, Sakura, and Sayaka sat at a table in the corner, and everyone else sat far away from them, except Byakuya, Toko, and Kyoko, who weren't present. Mukuro knew why; those three and Kyoko were the only ones who'd let her sit with them… And Sayaka was only because she was still catatonic.
Mukuro desperately wanted to go over and thank Leon for saving Hiro's life. She looked over, and the redheaded baseball player yelped and skid behind the rolls of Hifumi's fat. A moment later, Hiro did the same – less Mukuro's heart sank, and she looked down at her plate. Someone had fried up enough chicken for the entire class. Mukuro had come last, and so had had the last choice. Hers was only lukewarm.
"They're all idiots," Hina growled. "Everyone knows you didn't mean it."
She could still feel everyone's eyes on her.
"They're not idiots," she said quietly. "If anything, that just makes it worse."
"Mukuro," Sakura said. Her voice was as gravely as ever, but she clearly made an effort to be soothing. "They do not know you well enough for their judgments to hurt."
"What do you mean?"
"I have spent my entire life fighting," Sakura said. "Almost from the moment I could stand. I am the heir to a dojo with three-hundred years of history. I mean no arrogance, but I know all there is to know about unarmed combat, including the art of understanding a person through it."
"Oh, I've heard about this!" Hina said excitedly. "You're talking about reading someone's instincts by seeing them in action?"
"Yes," Sakura confirmed. "And you, Mukuro…" Mukuro shied away, suddenly afraid of what she might hear. "You are the most conflicted person I have ever fought."
Mukuro choked on a piece of her dinner. She looked up into Sakura's gray eyes, but said nothing.
"Within you is a roiling sea of emotion," Sakura continued. "I cannot imagine the pain of losing yourself the way you have – and then of losing Makoto, as well. Two untoward tragedies, each of them enough to break many people on their own."
Mukuro's eyes darted to Sayaka. All that was left of the original girl, the excitable, passionate, charismatic idol who could charm anyone in a minute, was this ghost.
She sighed.
"What about me, as a person?" she asked.
Sakura took a moment before responding.
"I am uncertain," she confessed. "I…"
She trailed off.
She has something to say, but not in front of Hina or Sayaka…
"I would risk my life to protect anyone here," Sakura said. "I think that I would even give it, were it necessary."
"Even Byakuya?" Hina murmured, stuffing a donut into her face.
"Even Byakuya," Sakura said. "It is what I would expect of anyone whose pursuit is of combat as a way to better themselves. The sport of martial arts can be a noble one, if the one who learns it is noble themself…"
Mukuro understood instantly.
I lack that honor…
She'd already known it, though she lacked Sakura's ability to express it in words. No one who learned to fight for a genuine love of the sport would have instinctively tried to kill someone just because she was losing.
"I'm sorry, Sakura…" Mukuro whispered.
"Do not be sorry, at least not to me." she said. "I would not be the Ultimate Martial Artist if I could be so easily slain. Apologize to Hiro, and yourself."
Again, Mukuro understood instantly. Whatever combat skills she had, she didn't learn them for any noble greater purpose, like Sakura. Both the student profile and Mukuro's own intuition told her the same thing: that she'd become an expert in killing people just because she thought it was fun.
To Sakura, that had to be almost an insult. But Hina's eyes were filled with stars again.
"You guys are amazing! Who would've won that fight in the gym, anyway?"
Sakura. Mukuro thought. If I hadn't flipped out…
"Who can say?" Sakura responded diplomatically, though she certainly knew the truth. She reached down to pick up her cup, then frowned. "Damn," she growled. "I forgot to get more protein powder."
"Protein powder?" Mukuro asked.
"Oh, that's right! You don't know about the warehouse!" Hina laughed. "There's a warehouse that opened up after the trial. It's got everything, and an endless supply of it, too. Clothes, food, laundry stuff, bags, tools, sports equipment – it's amazing. You could live off it for a billion years."
"Unfortunately, its protein powder is cheap swill," Sakura said. "But it is better than nothing."
"Sakura," Hina said. "You go get more powder with Mukuro, she hasn't seen it yet. I'll stay here with Sayaka."
"Are you sure, Hina?" Sakura asked.
"Of course! Go on."
Mukuro looked up to Sakura. There was no explicit reason to refuse, but… It was so awkward, the idea of spending time alone with someone she'd almost killed.
And truth be told, Mukuro had never really spent time alone with Sakura anyway. Her friendship with the giant was mostly through Hina.
"Come," Sakura said.
Mukuro shifted uncomfortably, but if Sakura herself invited her, there was no good way to escape. She stood up and scarfed down the last of her chicken.
(Scene)
The warehouse wasn't far from the cafeteria. Following Sakura, Mukuro only needed to round two corners to reach it. They said nothing as they walked.
This led them to a long, empty hallway. It terminated with another sliding gate. Behind it was an inaccessible staircase to the second floor of the dorms. To its side was another door.
"The warehouse." Sakura said.
Mukuro's skin crawled. Was Sakura studying her even now? Was she prepared for another attack? No matter what she'd claimed, Mukuro knew that Sakura would have been killed by that spear in the gym.
She's only human, Mukuro thought. And humans hold grudges…
Mukuro swallowed, then pushed open the door.
Hina hadn't lied: the ceiling reached up fifteen feet or more, and there were rows upon rows of shelves overflowing with every object you could ever need to survive, and a thousand cardboard boxes of who-knows-what. They really could live off of this for a lifetime, if not quite Hina's claim of a billion years.
"According to Monokuma, it restocks each night," Sakura said.
Mukuro hesitated, so Sakura entered first. She moved to a shelf against one of the walls and toward a row of carefully set blue bottles. Mukuro couldn't read their labels from the door, but they were, presumably, the protein powder. The bottles were high enough that a normal person would have had to stand on their toes to reach it, but to Sakura, they were at eye-height.
"Barely better than water," Sakura said. "I wonder if this is a joke by Monokuma?"
"He's made jokes before," Mukuro responded. "At least to me, he makes them all the time."
"His very existence is a joke."
They stood in silence for a second. Then Sakura scowled.
"That… was meant to be a joke, also."
Mukuro snorted.
"Well, neither of us is the Ultimate Comedian, at least."
"Indeed."
Mukuro's heart was beating fast.
"Sakura," she said. She wasn't sure where the word came from, but… "Am I… a terrible person? You must have sensed how easily I could have cut someone down there. And in my motive DVD, Monokuma said I've killed people before, and I know he's telling the truth."
Sakura did not respond instantly.
"Is that your only evidence for being 'a terrible person?'"
"Well… earlier, I played a card game with Celeste, and told me my 'rank' had gone up with her. I don't know if I like her approval, either."
Sakura crossed her arms.
"That is poor evidence, indeed," she said. "All I can say for certain is that I was surprised by your performance."
"Because I tried to kill you?"
"No," Sakura shook her head. "Because I did not expect to find a fighter of this caliber at Hope's Peak. I am… immensely pleased."
"Really?" Mukuro blinked. She felt a little better.
"I had resigned myself to the idea that I would have to practice alone. I feared I might lose some of my skills."
"Then… you still want to spar with me?" Mukuro didn't mean to, but she started smiling.
"Of course." Sakura slid one eye closed, then smiled back at her. "To ensure everyone survives, both of us must ensure our skills are turned toward purely noble purposes."
This was the first time Mukuro had really believed that Sakura held no grudge – in fact, how could she have even thought someone like Sakura even could hold a grudge? This was the world's greatest martial artist, strong in body, mind, and spirit, and her honor…
It was beyond question.
"I… feel for Sayaka," Sakura said. That was an unexpected subject to broach, and Mukuro was momentarily confused. "The motive Monokuma gave her compelled her to murder, and her betrayal of Makoto almost destroyed her. I know she will dwell on the past. I hope she can look toward the future."
Once again, Sakura's meaning was clear:
She worries I'll do the same thing.
Mukuro hugged herself. It was easy, so easy, to fall into that same trap as Sayaka. She looked away, burning with shame. By chance, her eyes caught on a series of boxes on a bottom shelf. The word TRACKSUITS was written on them in blocky text.
Mukuro pulled one out at random. It was pink, and a size too small, but beneath it were dozens more, each in a different color. She dug through them without thinking, and pulled out a blue one with yellow stripes. She held it against her body, over the clothes she'd been given by Hina and Kyoko.
The future… or dwelling on the past…
She thought of the Mukuro in the student profile. The one who looked so clean and professional, but who'd killed people in war, had instincts like murdering someone with a spear, and who'd beaten up her sister…
Mukuro still wanted her old memories back, but…
"I shall give you a moment," Sakura said. "I'll wait outside."
She stepped into the hallway, and Mukuro was alone.
Since the first day, all Mukuro had had to wear was a patchwork of Hina's and Kyoko's clothes. But these tracksuits, as simple as they were, could be hers.
(Scene)
Mukuro stepped out of the warehouse feeling like a changed woman. Her black track jacket fit her even better than the donated clothes had, and she'd rolled up the sleeves to help make it more her own. This also made her the only girl in the school to wear pants. Digging through the warehouse had yielded yet more treasures: pairs of black sneakers and new white underwear. Right now, Mukuro wasn't wearing a single thing owned by another student.
The only word she knew to describe what she felt like right now was… fresh.
"I see," Sakura said. "It suits you."
Mukuro blushed. What Sakura didn't know was how much time she'd spent agonizing over colors. Mukuro knew anything bright or energetic, like yellow or pink, would be impossible for her to pull off. In the end, she'd settled on black-with-white-stripes.
Hanging from her shoulder was a bag of ten more identical tracksuits, as well as Hina's and Kyoko's old clothing. She'd return all of the borrowed clothes tonight.
"Thanks."
Sakura nodded, then turned back for the cafeteria. Mukuro hurried to catch up.
Just before she rounded the corner, Mukuro realized that something felt wrong to her. She frowned, and looked back to the warehouse door—
And saw Monokuma. He stood there behind the gate to the second floor, watching her. His arms were at his sides, and for once, he was silent.