Sakura stepped back into the cafeteria. Mukuro wasn't far behind. They'd only been gone for twenty minutes or so, but in that time, everyone had left save for Hina, Sayaka, Leon, and Hiro.
Hina gasped, leapt up, and ran to them as fast as she could. Her eyes were alight with excitement. She jumped around Mukuro, examining each angle of the new tracksuit. Finally, when she was done, she pumped her fist and grinned.
"I love your new clothes, Mukuro!"
Mukuro blushed.
"Thanks…"
"It's super awesome that the warehouse had something that fit you so well! It's like a whole new Mukuro!"
Mukuro raised a hand and scratched the back of her head. She smiled, still blushing, and looked away. By chance, she turned to the table.
For the briefest instant, the blue of Sayaka's eyes seemed to flicker toward her, then back to the empty vacuum they normally watched. Her hands, body, and face remained still, and it was over so quickly that Mukuro wasn't even sure it had happened at all.
She opened her mouth to ask Sayaka a question, but Hina, oblivious to all of this, just grabbed her hand and hauled her over to the table. She started babbling about who-knew-what, but Mukuro was only paying attention to their silent companion. Yet, Sayaka made no further movement.
If she'd even looked at me in the first place…
With a grunt, Sakura twisted open the top of her bottle of protein powder. She dumped a few spoonfuls of it into her cup. To Mukuro, the powder looked almost indistinguishable from a pile of brown dust… Certainly, it looked horribly unappetizing. It could have been her imagination, but it even seemed to smell bad.
She must have made a face without realizing it, because Sakura nodded sadly.
"As I said before, this is cheap swill," she growled. She poured a pitcher of water into the cup, and the water turned a nauseating shade of brown. She dipped the spoon into the cup and swirled the concoction. "I would call it an insult by Monokuma, but the rest of the material in the warehouse is generally of decent quality."
She drained the glass over the course of a few seconds. Mukuro frowned and looked back to Sayaka. Behind her, at the other table, were Leon and Hiro. Ever since the former had saved the latter's life, the two had spent all of their time together. They had nothing in common as far Mukuro could tell, and she certainly wasn't invited to their conversations, but her actions had still definitely helped spur on a friendship.
Leon… I owe him… probably everything in the world.
She stood up. Without a word to Hina or Sakura, Mukuro swiftly stepped over to the other table. Leon and Hiro both squirmed as she approached. The former managed a horribly nervous plastic smile, but the latter pushed his chin onto his chest and sweated profusely.
Mukuro had been prepared for these reactions. But she'd made a decision.
I'm going to be better, she thought. I'm going to be a new person, and that involves settling the scores of the old Mukuro.
Despite this, her heart was beating probably even faster than the boys'.
"Leon." she said evenly.
The redhead squeaked. A bead of sweat trickled down and over the scar on his cheek.
The scar I gave him.
"Uh… yeah?" he asked. Somehow, his voice cracked several times during just those two syllables.
Mukuro laid herself on the floor and bowed to him. She couldn't see anyone's faces, but she could hear a few surprised gasps.
"Thank you so much, Leon." she said, holding back tears. "I almost made an unforgivable mistake, and it was only your fast reaction that stopped it. You… You saved Hiro's life, and you also saved mine. That night with the sword, you said you never intended to hurt Sayaka, and I doubted you, and…"
Her voice trailed off into a choking whisper. It was alright, though. She wasn't sure where she would have gone anyway.
Leon didn't respond. After a while, she dared to look up. He was still sitting in his chair, completely flummoxed. Across the table, Hiro looked down at her. He was also shocked. He pulled a hand behind his head and scratched, and Mukuro felt even worse under his gaze.
"Hiro," she said. She shifted to face him, but didn't get up. "I could have killed you. I would have killed you. I… can only say I'm sorry. I understand if you still hate me."
Hiro pursed his lips. Eventually, he shook his head.
"Aw, don't be like that," he said. "Like, Mukuro, it's not… Look, you don't gotta…" He frowned. "Jeez, don't be all heartfelt like that, man, it makes you hard to talk to or whatever."
At his prompting, she stood up. Her eyes trained on the part of his dreadlocks that the spear had cut off. Both boys, she realized, had been marked by her in some way.
"Hey, Mukuro!" Hiro said, smiling. "Tell you what, I'll forgive you if you let me to do a reading of your future!"
"Really?" she blinked.
"Yeah! That's just the kinda guy I am! You know what? I'll even let you pay after we get outta here."
"Hiro!" Hina screamed from the other table. "I can't believe how awful you are!"
"It's 100000 yen for a reading!" Hiro finished, ignoring her, then he gave a thumbs up.
Well, if the price of his forgiveness is a literal price…
It wasn't quite the response she'd hoped for, and so she didn't exactly flush with relief, but she smiled all the same.
"Okay," she said, a little more energetically than she'd meant. "I just want to make things okay between us."
Leon was looking away. He rolled his chin across his chest, then nodded.
"It's fine…" he said. "Everyone knows you didn't mean it. And if I'm being totally honest, it gave me a chance to show off in front of everyone. So, it's okay…. As long as it never happens again."
"Never!" Mukuro promised. She nodded several times. "Never, never." She looked up toward one of the ceiling lights, and imagined for a moment that it was the sun. "From this moment on, I'm going to be a new, better person."
(Scene)
Ding dong bing bong
"Mm, ahem, this is a school announcement. It is now 10 PM. As such, it is officially nighttime. Soon the doors to the dining hall will be locked, and entry at that point is strictly prohibited. Okay then… sweet dreams, everyone! Good night, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite…"
Mukuro yawned as she entered her dorm. She stretched her right arm, then her left, and kicked the door closed behind her. A moment later, she tossed her new bag of tracksuits onto the floor. She could deal with hanging them up properly tomorrow.
Part of her still felt guilty. It gnawed at her, the idea that she could have felt any happiness or relief so soon after Makoto's death, or even at all. That part of her told her that Sayaka had the right of it; that there was no other way to truly pay homage to Makoto except to totally give into despair.
Mukuro looked over to the God of War charm he'd given her. It was still on her desk, sparkling under the ceiling lights. She picked it up, then ran a finger over its surface. It was a simple paper charm marked with stark black ink. She closed her eyes, and felt the ink from the paper, traced her thumb over it and imagined the symbol.
God of war…
She was the Ultimate Soldier, and though Makoto hadn't lived long enough to learn that, his one gift to her was a reminder of that fact. A reminder of him. A guarantee that his spirit watched over her, and Sayaka, and the others.
It suddenly felt very heavy in her hands. Mukuro's eyes popped wide open, and she almost dropped it. It could have weighed a thousand pounds. This was too great a burden. What was there to do with the last worldly reminder of Makoto Naegi?
She opened up the drawer with her sewing kit, then buried the charm underneath it. A few seconds later, the lights were off, and Mukuro was naked in her bed.
The world was so much lighter.
(Scene)
Be a new person, be a new person, be a new person…
Mukuro chanted this to herself as she opened her dorm's door. She didn't quite feel like a better person, and images of Makoto's death and Hiro's near-death still flashed occasionally in her mind, but she did feel a little better.
She stepped out into the hallway wearing a new, clean track jacket. Her sleeves were rolled up, and she was ready for this new morning. No one else was in sight, so she headed for the cafeteria. Along the way, she stretched her right arm. That made her catch sight of the Fenrir tattoo.
She slowed her pace. Unconsciously, she ran her fingers over the tattoo's edges.
This damned wolf has done nothing but cause problems.
She stretched and pressed her skin for a while, distorting the image as much as she could. But no matter what she did, it was always still clearly a wolf, and its name was always still easy to read.
At last, Mukuro sighed and looked up. She gasped with surprise. She was at the door to the warehouse. Her body had taken her here without thinking, knowing before she did that this place would have something that could help her: a pair of gloves. She'd already returned Kyoko's clothing, and she'd never really taken advantage of the pair loaned to her.
She threw open the door to the warehouse, happy and confident in her purpo—
"You little bitch!"
"Eeeeeeeekkkkk!"
A small mountain of clothes, boxes, bottles, bedsheets, glassware, detergent, umbrellas, and God-only-knew-what-else rose out of the center of the room. The two shelves around it, each nine feet high and normally bursting with products, were almost empty. Even what remained on them was still spilled or on its side. So much was on the floor that Mukuro couldn't even see behind the mess, but she could definitely still hear the two people on the other side.
"How dare you, you stupid fucking little—"
Mukuro darted forward. Her hand caught one of the empty shelves at neck-height, and she lifted herself up and over the heap of material. She landed on the other side without an issue.
Celeste jumped back, surprised and frightened at her sudden unexpected entrance, and slammed into Hifumi. The fatter boy was on his knees, his hands raised in a pathetic begging motion. His eyes were closed, and he didn't seem aware of Mukuro.
"Please, Miss Ludenberg, I didn't mean to—"
"Mukuro!" she stammered, very out-of-character. "What are you doing here?"
Mukuro bit the inside of her cheek. It didn't look like Celeste or Hifumi were about to get violent with each other. Hifumi's eyes opened once her name was mentioned, and he paled and started shaking.
"Uh… I just wanted to check for some gloves," she said, a little happy that that was actually the truth. "What happened here?"
Celeste scoffed, then swallowed, hard. A tiny bead of sweat rolled down her forehead.
The stupid spear incident…
No! This was a perfect opportunity to prove how much of a normal, non-dangerous, non-psychopath she was. Mukuro stepped back, then consciously made her hands fold behind her waist. She was pretty sure this would be as nonthreatening as possible.
The effort seemed to work. Celeste took a moment to regain her composure, then twirled a finger around one of her pigtails and mocked disinterest.
"I made the mistake of asking Hifumi to help me move something." she said, simply.
Hifumi's eyes darted between the two girls, trying to judge which of them was the greater threat. Eventually, he settled on the gothic one.
"No, Miss Ludenberg," he pleaded. "I didn't—"
"Oh, shut up!" she snapped. One of her eyes bulged with hate and rage. "How clumsy and useless can you be?!" She turned back to Mukuro, completely pleasant. "There was a beautiful black china tea set decorated with white flowers, but I couldn't reach it on the high shelf. Hifumi decided the fastest way to remove it from that height was to knock everything off of both shelves."
Hifumi burned red, and looked to the ground. Mukuro actually felt sorry for him. Then she realized—
"Wait," she said. "Celeste, I saw you drinking out of a black tea set yesterday, why do you need another one?"
The Ultimate Gambler raised the back of her hand to her lips, then laughed.
"That one has red flowers on it," she explained. "This one has gray flowers. They're completely different."
Mukuro pursed her lips and looked over the room. She wasn't even sure how Hifumi had done this. It really looked like a tornado had passed through these shelves
All this destruction for an extra tea set…
"Huh…" Mukuro muttered. "You know, I was right outside the warehouse a second ago, and I didn't hear anything."
"It could be that the warehouse is soundproofed, like the dorms…" Celeste cooed absently.
It's also soundproofed…
Hifumi interrupted Mukuro's thoughts by gasping in delight. He dug his hands into the pile, then wrestled out a cardboard box. Half of it was wet and corrugated with some blue liquid, probably laundry detergent, and the other half had been crushed by some invisible object within the trash.
Quickly, but unsteadily, he opened the top of the box and peeked inside.
"Look, Miss Ludenberg!" he squealed. "See? The china isn't damaged."
Both Celeste and Mukuro craned their necks to see inside. By some impossible miracle, the delicate tea set had survived falling seven feet and being smashed by fifty or more pounds of material. Mukuro's jaw dropped. She couldn't believe it.
Celeste's own reaction was more muted. She regarded the tea set for a few seconds, then looked away.
"I see," she said, rather abruptly. "Very well, come along, Hifumi."
She started away from the pile of junk, intent on rounding the other end of the shelves. Hifumi stood up, beaming with pride.
"Wait!" Mukuro said. "Why do you need Hifumi to lift a tea set for you?"
Once again, Celeste scoffed.
"Look at that box," she groaned. "I wouldn't touch it with a pole. He can carry it to my room like the good little Rank-E he is."
"Rank-E?!" Hifumi sobbed.
It was true, though. The box was disgusting. The blue liquid dripped onto Hifumi's hands and underneath his fingernails. It would probably take minutes of scrubbing to get his skin clean again, and Celeste would be lucky indeed if the tea set wasn't permanently stained. Furthermore, the wetness made the cardboard almost fall apart. Hifumi had to scoop it all into his arm and cradle it like a baby, rubbing the liquid thoroughly into his jacket and shirt.
A few seconds later, Celeste had made her roundabout path out of the room. Hifumi trailed behind her, offering pitiable apology after apology.
Mukuro watched the giant pile of trash for a few seconds. A single thought passed through her mind:
Glad I'm not in charge of cleaning that.
A minute later, she was out in the hallway. In the far distance, she could see Celeste opening her door, and Hifumi following behind, still carrying the ruined box. He hovered a hand underneath it and his arm, trying to catch all of the disgusting drips of the blue liquid.
Mukuro pushed the two of her mind, and looked down to the pair of fingerless black gloves on her hands. They looked so cool, and they finally banished that stupid wolf, but there was a new problem she hadn't considered.
Black jacket, black pants, black gloves… Maybe I'm overdoing it with the black…
She paused, then looked back into the warehouse.
Nahhh!
(Scene)
"No way, no way, no way!" Hina slammed her hands on the table. Half a donut bounced into the air and landed in Mukuro's orange juice.
"I did not mean it as an insult or challenge, Hina," Sakura offered. "I retract the statement."
"There's absolutely no way you're doing that!" Hina fired back.
Mukuro grimaced, then pushed her ruined drink to the side.
At least my cereal's still un-donutted.
She raised a few spoonfuls of it up to her lips before that could be compromised, too.
The cafeteria was completely full that morning, and the argument attracted some attention. Almost every head turned to watch, though Mukuro noticed a few of them were still cautious of her. The only exception was Sayaka, who still sat at their table, breathing slowly and looking at nothing.
"The cafeteria is not a place for screaming!" Taka screamed. "Explain yourselves."
Hina pumped her fists, then angrily pointed straight at Sakura.
"Sakura said she could run the length of the pool faster than I could swim it!"
Byakuya rolled his eyes.
"What a waste of time. Go have your inane debate elsewhere."
Toko leapt in as soon as he took a side.
"Y—yeah! You two should… g—go away!"
"I'm sorry, Hina," Sakura said again. "I was only speculating—"
"No way!" Hina slammed her hands on the table again. This time, Mukuro's drink jumped up, and spilled into her cereal. Bits of donuts and orange liquid contaminated everything. "We'll have to have a race to settle this!"
A smile tugged at the edges of Sakura's lips.
"I see." she said. By the tone of her voice, it was clear she'd already agreed to the idea.
Mukuro tapped a finger on the edge of her bowl. It seemed to her that it was much easier to run than to swim, and that anyone on Earth would be faster on land than in the water. Furthermore, Sakura was easily the most athletic person in the school. The pool was, what, one-hundred feet long? Sakura could probably cover that distance in a few seconds.
But… if anyone in the world could beat that time in water, surely it would be the Ultimate Swimming Pro.
It would probably be an interesting race to watch. Mukuro was looking forward to it.
"You wanna go right now?!" Hina was trying to mock indignation and offense, but it was obvious that she was excited at having an excuse to flex her skills.
"I see no reason not to." Sakura nodded.
Hina moved her hands to her hips, then laughed. A moment later, she jumped in surprise.
"Oh wait, Sayaka!" She turned to the blue-haired girl sitting next to her. That entire conversation had passed, and nothing had changed in the idol's bearing. "We can't bring her with us."
"What?" Mukuro blinked, and leaned over the table. "Why not?"
"Recently, Monokuma added a new rule," Sakura explained. "Perhaps you didn't know. It says that we can't loan our e-Handbooks to anyone else. As she is now, Sayaka can't scan hers on the door, and we can't scan it for her while she's still alive, or else it will count as her breaking the rule."
"Yeah!" Hina groaned, allowing the noise to die off in the back of her throat. "'Cause of that dumb rule, Sakura and I haven't been able to check out the changing room or gym at the same time yet."
Mukuro almost asked "Can't you ask someone else to watch her," but caught herself. They definitely couldn't ask Celeste, Toko, or Byakuya. Leon had an obvious bad history with her. Hifumi was a definite no-go. Hiro was too unreliable, and Taka too strict and unrelenting. Besides Mukuro, all that left was Kyoko, whose motives and goals always seemed to be a little too mysterious.
"I'll hang out with her," Mukuro offered. "You guys go do your race."
Hina looked uncertain about the proposition, but she didn't reject it outright. Instead, she poked a finger into her cheek, then carefully responded.
"Are you sure?"
Mukuro looked over. Sayaka stared on ahead, her face still ghost-white and her spirit still destroyed.
I've never actually spent time with her alone…
"I'm sure."
Hina turned one hand into a fist, raised the other into an open palm, and punched it.
"Alright! Sakura, c'mon."
The two girls exited a second later. Moments afterward, Kyoko went into the kitchen with an empty plate. When she came back out, she left the cafeteria without a word or acknowledgement of anyone else's presence.
The others filed out on their own over the next few minutes. By 7:45, only Mukuro, Sayaka, and Taka were left. The last busily scribbled a report into his logbook.
"Another breakfast – successfully conducted!" he announced blithely.
Mukuro couldn't tell if he was telling this to her, or to the room itself. Either way, he followed the others a second later.
Mukuro looked back to Sayaka. She was just… so shattered. The light within her eyes was just gone. Her waifish idol figure seemed to have lost weight, and her lips had drained of any color. Her hair was mostly straight, the happy kitten hairclip was still set, her old makeup was washed off, and her clothes were brand new… but she was beginning to stink. Mukuro guessed that Hina or Sakura had helped groom her to look as nice as possible, but that neither could force her to shower.
She reached over and waved a hand in front of Sayaka's face. There was no response. She frowned, then examined Sayaka a little more closely. The girl's lips were very parched, and Mukuro could only think of that time in her bed when she'd tried to starve herself to death. Kyoko had rescued her then. Had she done it because she would rescue anyone, or just because Mukuro was useful? Or had she owed her something? Did she… did she expect Mukuro to do the same, here?
Would it help to talk about Makoto?
What Mukuro wouldn't have given for the Ultimate Psychologist right then. Sighing, she ran over to the kitchen, making sure to look back at her charge every few seconds, and fetched a pitcher of water, a glass, and the nearest untouched food item she could find, which happened to be a croissant. When she returned, Sayaka hadn't moved an inch. Mukuro sat down next to her and poured a glass of water.
"Do you want anything to eat or drink?" she offered.
No response. Very lightly, Mukuro poked a finger into Sayaka's cheek. Again, she didn't stir, but Mukuro was surprised to find how warm her skin was. It was so easy to forget that Sayaka was still, well, alive.
As slowly and obviously as possible, Mukuro put a finger on each of Sayaka's cheeks, then pressed. Automatically, the idol's mouth opened. Strands of half-dry saliva ran from lip to lip.
Very uncertainly, Mukuro raised the glass of water. She was careful to move in such a way that she could retract the glass at the first sign of protest or annoyance. But Sayaka's eyes just kept staring off into space.
The glass went clink when its lip connected with Sayaka's bottom row of teeth. Mukuro tilted it up, and water poured inside.
For a moment, she thought the water was just going to stay there in her mouth, splashing around her tongue and molars. It would dribble out and onto her new jacket, and Mukuro would have to take her to her dorm and find a new set of clothing. Or perhaps Sayaka would just stay there, perfectly still, and allow herself to drown from half a mouthful of liquid.
Instead, to Mukuro's surprise, she actually swallowed it. She did so with the least amount of energy possible, of course, and her muscles seemed to barely move, but it did go down her throat.
"Sayaka!" Mukruo said, thrilled. She looked up and into her eyes—
There was still nothing in there. The process of drinking had just been mechanical. Mukuro was disappointed, but this was at least something.
She broke off a corner of the croissant, then gently set it on Sayaka's tongue. A moment passed, and then she swallowed it.
And so, the next few minutes went by this way: Mukuro would raise a piece of food or the glass an unfeeling mouth, and Sayaka's body would do the rest. By the end, when only the last bit of croissant was left, Mukuro was almost making a game of it. She pulled the bit between her middle finger and her thumb, then flicked it with her forefinger from a foot away. It arced through the air and landed perfectly in Sayaka's mouth, and the idol obediently swallowed.
Sayaka was little more than a robot; programmed to handle a single task in a very specific way, but utterly unable to act outside of that constraint or to think on her own. Even the act of eating and drinking didn't seem to have any effect on her except, presumably, to keep her alive. If she was still inside that body, she must have been trapped in a deep, dark place indeed.
Another minute passed in silence. Mukuro tapped two fingers on the table, then looked to the hallway outside of the cafeteria. She truly was sympathetic to Sayaka, but… she was also getting a little bored. Surely it would help to take her somewhere, right?
Come to think of it, she wasn't actually sure how Hina moved her from room to room. She doubted Sakura would just carry her everywhere. They had to have some kind of system for getting her to walk on her own, but they'd neglected to mention it to Mukuro.
"Sayaka, do you want to go hang out somewhere?" she tried.
Of course, there was no reply. In fact, Sayaka's mouth was still hanging open. Guilty for having forgotten about that, Mukuro quickly pressed a finger to her chin and shut it closed.
Still unsure of what to do, she moved a hand on top of Sayaka's. It was almost a surprise when she felt warm skin and pumping blood. Their fingers interlaced, and Mukuro instinctively stood up and pulled.
She almost jumped back when, bit by bit, Sayaka's legs moved. After what seemed like an eternity, Sayaka hefted herself to a standing position. Her eyes still looked at nothing, and she wavered back and forth on her feet, ready to collapse at any moment… But she actually had moved under her own power.
Mukuro stepped back and pulled. Sayaka obeyed, and lurching forward unsteadily. Mukuro raised her hands, thinking that she'd have to catch her—
But Sayaka maintained her footing, and Mukuro knew that she could take her anywhere.
(Scene)
It was exciting to have Sayaka on her feet again, but Mukuro quickly realized that she had nothing to actually do with her. They hadn't really been friends even before Makoto's death, save that one connection in the trial.
What did Sayaka like? What were her dislikes? What made her feel good, and what made her feel bad?
Not that I really know much of those things for myself…
It was surprising to realize how little Mukuro knew about the world-famous idol, which made it hard to think of an activity to do with her. She led Sayaka though the halls, hand-in-hand, patiently letting her wobble back and forth, her mind and spirit as devastated as ever. They entered classrooms and the gym, but Mukuro was never really sure what to actually do, and Sayaka never spoke up. Mukuro actually wouldn't have minded checking out the library again, maybe reading aloud a little bit, but she didn't dare try moving a catatonic person up the stairs.
Finally, if only because there was nowhere else to go, the two girls entered the student store. She knew it was her imagination, but Mukuro could smell Makoto here.
"Ahhhhh, doesn't it just smell like him?"
Mukuro whipped around, pulled her hand out of Sayaka's, and brought them both up into fists. Monokuma stood behind them in the doorway, smiling.
"What's this?" Monokuma cocked his head and stared up at her. "It looks like one of my dear students is thinking about kicking me in the face again! What, did you want to join the Karate Club? … because we don't have one."
Mukuro scoffed.
I could take twenty of these stupid robots. Thirty! A hundred!
It wasn't an exaggeration. She was the Ultimate Soldier, and after the incident with Sakura, Mukuro was pretty sure she really could fight an army of Monokumas and live.
… if there was a reason to, and if she didn't have to worry about Sayaka. Her eyes flashed over to the other girl, who just stood there, still staring off, still making no attempt to defend herself.
When Mukuro looked back to Monokuma, there were three more of him standing in the doorway. These three had a set of steel claws extended from each paw. Their faces were stuck in that same stupid smile the bear always wore, but she knew that right now, it was a taunt.
Mukuro bit her lip hard. She hated to give in, but she would have to play his game for now. She dropped her hands to her sides, then led Sayaka to lean against the store counter and face toward Monokuma. Finally, she turned and sneered down at their captor. The other Monokumas were gone.
"Why are you here?" she asked. Spite dripped from her voice. "Do you have nothing better to do than bother me?"
"Nope!" he replied cheerfully. "But actually, I do have something else to do while I bother you."
As he'd done many times before, he dipped a paw behind his waist and pulled something out. This time, it was a brown bag about the size of a fist. Mukuro barely had a chance to see it before he tossed it over to her. She caught it automatically, and felt a number of small, solid discs inside. They jingled as she pressed her fingers to them.
"What're these?" she asked suspiciously.
"What kinda question is that?!" Monokuma laughed. "You know they're coins! What, did you get conked over the head when I wasn't looking?"
"I meant, what are they for?" she asked, more irritated.
"Jeez, what kinda education must you have had to not know what coins are for? I guess Fenrir Middle School skipped out on the economics class, eh? Okay, listen up! Money can be exchanged for goods and services, and—"
"God, shut up!" Mukuro squeezed the bag so hard that the top came open. Indeed, she could see some seventy or so bronze coins inside. "Why are you giving them to me?!"
"Finally," Monokuma shrugged. "Took you three tries to ask a decent question! The coma patient over there didn't even ask me one dumb question, and her brain doesn't even work. Lobotomies! Maybe I should bring in an expert…"
He stamped over to the counter, then jumped on top of it. He was too close to Sayaka for Mukuro's comfort, but there was nothing she could easily do about it.
"Well," he continued. "I thought I'd award some coins after each trial, you know? For a job well done, that sort of thing. You could buy presents from the machine over there, give them to your classmates, grow closer and friendlier, all that kinda stuff to make your communal life here more comfortable."
Mukuro's eyes flickered to the machine in question. She remembered it now—it was where Makoto had won the very kitten hairclip Sayaka still wore.
"Are you giving these coins to everyone?" she asked.
"Oh, no! Imagine if I did that! Again, economics, economics! If you flood the market with too much currency, the value of any individual coin will drop proportionally! But my machine still gives you a prize for each coin you put in! I'd bankrupt myself in a day! No, it's only one student who gets these. Go ahead, give it a go."
Mukuro squinted. Unsure of how Monokuma would react if she refused, she slowly raised a coin into the machine, then pulled the lever. Lights on its sides flashed, and then a capsule fell into her hands.
Inside was a black video game system with a red screen. A label on the top said FUNPLANE. A cartridge was inserted into the back, but she didn't bother checking the name of the video game. She just stuffed the whole thing, and all of the coins, into a pocket of her jacket.
"Why me?" she muttered.
"Well," His evil smile seemed somehow to grow wider. "Makoto seemed the most protagonist-y of you, but since you killed him—"
The scream burst out of her throat before she could stop it.
"I didn't kill him!" she roared.
Her voice echoed out into the hallway. When it disappeared, there was silence for several seconds. Then Monokuma just shrugged.
"Didn't you?" Monokuma asked. He poked his chin with his paw. "I don't know about that! You were the one who got him convicted for murder. You could've easily gotten him off scot-free, if you'd really wanted to."
"I hate you so much!" Mukuro snarled. "I swear to every god, someday, I'll rip your heart out of your chest, the real you, the person controlling this stupid robot!"
"And to think," Monokuma continued, ignoring her threats. "You betrayed Makoto after he tried to get all of you out of here."
Mukuro was about to fire back with another insult, but that…
That was too specific.
She knew it could only lead to more pain, but she had to know.
"What do you mean by that?" she asked warily.
Monokuma jumped over to the machine, then sat down on top of it.
"I know you might be unsure if 'luck' is real or whatever," he began. "But let me assure you: it is. I promise you, it absolutely-100%-totally is. I know because I saw it in action. Did you know? In this machine is a very special item. It's called an Escape Switch."
Monokuma kicked the machine with the back of his foot.
"If you press it, something interesting will happen, and you can open up that big ol' door in the front of the school, the one with the guns pointing at it. Anyone can leave whenever they want! Sort of a self-graduation, if you get my meaning."
Mukuro snorted.
"Obviously there's a catch."
"Nope! The only 'catch' is that the Escape Switch has a 0.00000001% chance of showing up. I know you're very stupid, so that means a 1-in-100-million chance. There aren't even one-hundred-million Monokuma Coins to play with, so believe me, no one was more surprised than me when it popped out of there. Turns out that not even I, the great Monokuma, can control the Ultimate Lucky Student. You taking him out for me," He raised a paw, then extended a claw like a finger gun. After a moment, he pulled back the claw, as if in a shooting motion. "That was actually a major help, so thank you!"
"Why even include an item like that?" Mukuro spat. "What, did you just want the excitement of being able to lose, but not have to actually worry about it being a real chance?"
Monokuma went silent for a moment. Even his exaggerated movements went still. Mukuro's eyebrows leapt up, and she realized, to her shock and dismay, that her random insult was exactly right.
Monokuma instantly realized his mistake. He knew that she'd figured that out, too.
"Heehee!" he swept his paws up into the air. "Sometimes you're less of a disappointment than I expect… though, not often."
I need to know about that Escape Switch!
Monokuma, or perhaps the person operating him, seemed to respond to Mukuro differently when she did something unexpected, or when there was an opportunity to antagonize her. If she just asked about Makoto and the prize, she'd never get a straight answer…
She crossed her arms and turned to the side.
"Maybe there is an Escape Switch," she allowed, keeping her voice steady. "But you never said Makoto won it. I bet he never saw it, or even knew it existed."
"Wrong!" Monokuma bellowed. "Wrong, wrong, wrong! Makoto Naegi definitely won that switch, and he definitely used it right away!"
"Liar," Mukuro said, not actually believing her own words. "If that was true, he'd have told us all, and we'd be back in our real homes by now."
Monokuma froze again. He knew she was trying to play him. The only question was if he'd let her.
"Is that a fact?" he asked, tapping his foot on the machine. "Is-that-a-fact? But you forgot one possibility. What if he got betrayed?"
"No one would betray him."
"Miss Maizono would," Monokuma said, and he swept a hand toward her. "Or did you forget? In fact, Makoto won that escape switch the very day she hatched her plan to kill Leon and escape. And the next day, when you were alone with Makoto, he realized your true identity."
"I don't have a 'true identity!'" Mukuro protested.
"I know you think that's true, but like I said – bears don't lie. Makoto did press that button, then Sayaka came to his room to switch so she could kill Leon, and the next day, he did realize that you were pretending to be someone you're not. Then he saved your life. He put his life, and everyone else's lives, in Mukuro Ikusaba's hands, and got betrayed. There was one chance to escape after that switch was pushed, and because of her, everyone is still here."
"That's a lie!" she screamed. Saliva jumped out of her mouth and splashed on his face. "That's a damn lie! I remember that day perfectly; all we did was hang out!"
"I know!" Monokuma giggled. "I know, and you're telling the truth! But… so am I! They're both equally true!"
Mukuro steamed. Was that possible? Even ignoring the fact that she would never betray Makoto, the logic of Monokuma's statement obviously didn't track.
But…
She knew he was telling the truth, even if she didn't understand how it could be.
"Poor, poor, Makoto," he laughed again. "In his hour of greatest need, Mukuro failed him – twice. And now you're stuck taking care of a girl who can't even eat properly. Just wait until she needs to go to the bathroom!"
Mukuro looked over to Sayaka.
This time, the idol's eyes really were looking back at her. There was no mistaking it. She was still trapped in that dark place within her own mind, but Monokuma's words had pulled her out of that prison, if only slightly.
Mukuro's heart started beating fast. Sayaka's guilt had overwhelmed her for days. Snapping her out of her reverie was important, but not the way Monokuma was going to do it.
Was he waiting for me to be alone with her?
Mukuro was suddenly possessed by the absolute certainty that she needed to get both herself and Sayaka away from him. She grabbed her classmate's hand, and found, to her shock, the slightest resistance.
It was nothing she couldn't handle, of course. Sayaka was still weaker than a child. Mukuro could have lifted her up and carried her out bridal-style, if she'd wanted. But a catatonic person trying to refuse at all was almost too shocking to believe, and it made her hesitate for a moment.
"It's almost cute," Monokuma teased. "You sacrificed Makoto to save yourself, and now you want to feel better by taking care of the girl he wanted instead of you. Mm!" He pretended to blush. "You aren't thinking of horning in on that action yourself, now, are you?"
Mukuro stared into Sayaka's eyes, uncertain of how alert the girl was. Did she understand what was happening here? Even Monokuma seemed not to know, even as he just kept talking and talking.
"Heehee! You want her to stay this way, don't you?"
"No!" Mukuro protested. "I want her to be normal again! I want to be her friend!"
"'Friend?'" he chided. "Mukuro Ikusaba didn't have friends."
"Well, she does now!"
Monokuma cocked his head again, this time turning it so far that it was parallel with the floor.
"I don't know about that," he challenged. His voice was more serious than it had been before. "I can see you've put on those stupid little gloves to hide your Fenrir tattoo. What kind of lame excuse for a disappointment tries to hide what she is without understanding it herself?" He jumped down onto the floor. "Or did you regain your memories when I wasn't looking?"
"I know what I am." she fired back. "I'm Mukuro Ikusaba, the Ultimate Soldier."
Monokuma said nothing for a moment. Mukuro imagined that she could hear whatever mechanisms kept turning inside his head.
"Are you?" he said quietly.
Mukuro's blood was boiling by this point.
"What the hell does that mean?" she snapped.
"Exactly what you think it does." Monokuma's normal mirth and faux-affability were gone. He sounded completely genuine, a tone that did not at all mix with his screechy, aggravating voice. "I would think that's almost a relief to you, isn't it? You tried to reject Mukuro just yesterday with those new clothes, and today with those gloves, and just now, with that statement. Wouldn't it be much easier to reject her if this was all some big mistake, and you were someone else all along?"
The blood rushed out of Mukuro's face. She was shaking, and her hand fell out of Sayaka's. All of her confidence evaporated, and she shrank against the counter, reduced to a timid, helpless little girl.
"Y—you're just m—messing with me." she squeaked.
"Do you want that to be true?" Monokuma asked, his voice perfectly even. "Maybe I gave you someone else's e-Handbook. Maybe that tattoo is a mistake. You don't have any of Mukuro's memories, after all."
"N—no!" Mukuro shuddered. Her vision went hazy. "Liar! I—I know I'm Mukuro Ikusaba. Th—there's a photo of me in my student p—profile!"
"The photograph attached by a paperclip?" he asked. "The profile Celeste, the master of sleight of hand, had access to first?"
Mukuro gasped, and pushed her hands over her lips.
"I was able to f—fight Sakura to a standstill!"
"Did you really?" Monokuma's voice was still even. "Maybe I'm blackmailing Sakura into being a spy in your group, and I told her to lose to you on purpose."
"N—no! Kyoko was there. She's s—smart, she would have noticed if I w—wasn't really good at fighting!"
"Maybe I'm blackmailing Kyoko, too. In fact, 'Mukuro,' do you want a hint? Byakuya has already guessed there's a spy, because he's not a complete idiot like you, but what he doesn't know is that when Makoto pulled out that Escape Switch, there were already two different spies in your class, both working for me."
"You're lying!"
"Nope," he said, and the fact that he didn't use that 'bears don't lie' statement made the bluntness of his denial sting even more. "And you know what else? Neither of my spies are dead yet."
Mukuro choked up. She shook her head from side to side.
"L—liar…"
"Maybe you're the girl in that video you saw," Monokuma offered. "The innocent, beautiful blonde one on the bed…"
"Stop it!" Mukuro jerked away from the counter, and then hugged her shoulders and pushed against the wall. Her throat was on fire, and her words came out as a hideous shriek. "Stop it, stop it, stop it! I know you're lying!"
"Why do you want me to be lying?" Monokuma asked, completely reasonably. "Why do you want to be the Fenrir mercenary who murdered scores of people? Why do you want to have beaten the tar out of your sister? Why do you want to be able to murder everyone here you're your bare hands? Why do you want t—"
He paused for a moment almost too quick for Mukuro to notice, as if he was somehow conflicted. Then his paws fell to his side. He seemed like a completely different person, like a completely different character. That smile was still on his face, but the emotion was gone from his voice.
"Let me show you who Mukuro Ikusaba is."
An electric hum buzzed out behind Mukuro's head. She flipped on her heels, still crying and barely able to breathe, and saw—
The monitor on the back wall. It was crammed in between so much merchandise and dusty garbage that she hadn't even noticed it before, but now its screen flickered to life. For a moment, there was static. Then…
A beautiful woman was tied to a chair with metal bands. She looked twenty or twenty-two, and her long red hair was pulled into a thick ponytail kept in place with lacey headpiece. A white apron covered most of her body. Her eyes, green and gorgeous, were pried open with circular pieces of metal. Tears streamed from each of them, and she was in great distress, sweating and screaming and trying in vain to pull away or close her eyes. Every one of her muscles strained visibly, cutting her skin against the shackles.
The room was mostly dark, but a row of computer screens in front of her provided a colorful glow. From the camera's position, it was impossible to see what she was being shown, but it obviously horrified the woman.
"Please…" she whimpered. Her body tried to heave over as she sobbed, but a metal band around her neck held her in place. "Please, stop, stop…"
Mukuro's body wouldn't move. She was crying, too, as hard as the woman. Not just because of how awful the scene was, but because, in the back of her mind, each second of this scene coalesced into a memory she already had, something unlocked through the amnesia. She mouthed along without thinking.
Mukuro, unmistakably Mukuro Ikusaba, the girl in the photograph, appeared behind the woman. She wore a black skirt and a nice white blouse with a cute red bow just beneath the collar. She was reading a small handbook.
"Let's see," she said, slightly bored. "In this situation… From the outside…"
Mukuro-of-the-Video looked down on the woman, and Mukuro-of-the-School saw her, too. In her mind and on the screen, the helpless, doomed woman begged for mercy, and an image flashed to the mind of Mukuro-of-the-School, who saw the woman both on the screen and in her own memory.
Mukuro-of-the-Video reached behind herself, and Mukuro-of-the-School mirrored the image, like a puppet following its master. She pulled out a pair of thin metal spikes, and Mukuro felt their coldness, their hardness, their sharpness.
"Stop this!" begged the woman.
She raised them over Chisa's head—
Chisa
Measured their placement over her luxurious red hair—
Got to get this juuuuust right…
And plunged them in through the skin and the skull.
Chisa howled in agony, and then delight, as the spikes dove into the pleasure center of her brain. Mukuro raised one, lowered the other, then reversed the process. Chisa's eyes went even wider, pink streams of blood trickled down her cheeks, and the last of her resistance faded as her body was forced into an orgasm. Again, and again, and again, and again, her weeping eyes unable to look away from the screens. Even her screams died out, replaced only by an incoherent gargling sensation.
It would have been better to do this the proper way, like with the others, but if Mukuro had to lobotomize Chisa, to erase the thin line that separated pleasure from despair, then so be it. The problem was that this was just sort of boring. She started thinking about other things while she worked.
Pizza tonight? she hummed. Bacon, or pineapple…
The screen went dark, but Mukuro still saw Chisa's head, still saw her wide, terrified eyes, and her lips pulled back in ecstasy and pain, still knew that the Ultimate Housekeeper would join the Ultimate Despairs…
Minutes passed, but she never snapped back to real life. Instead, the memory faded by degree over agonizing degree, allowing the grim reality of bright trinkets and useless baubles to take its place. This could have been the memory, and the screen reality.
Mukuro was still moving her hands up and down, imitating—or reliving—what she'd done in the video. Even when she saw what surrounded her, even when she understood that Chisa was gone and her hands were empty and her entire body was caked with sweat, Mukuro still lived half inside that memory, this newest, cruelest chain to the life she'd had before this amnesia.
Or was it her memory at all? Had Monokuma somehow given her someone else's thoughts? Which was the worse option?
Tears and sweat mixed into a single liquid, then streamed into the corners of her mouth. She smelled and tasted vomit. Automatically, her hand turned into a fist and slammed against her heart. For the first time in half a minute, her throat opened enough for her to breathe. The sharp, fresh air was like a knife in her chest. She collapsed onto the counter, then wheezed for what felt like hours.
By the time she opened her eyes, Monokuma was gone. One other person still remained. Sayaka's arms still hung limply at her sides, and her body was still listless and weak. Her skin was still ghostly pale, and she was still trapped in that dark prison within herself, unable to communicate with the world.
But there was something in her eyes now that hadn't been there before. However much in a dream of guilt and despair Sayaka was trapped in, she had still seen everything.
(Notes)
* I had to include this as a note because it might come up later: I'm not treating the anime as canon. Obviously, I'm using the scene from the anime where Mukuro tortures Chisa, so I'll treat parts of the anime as canon, but the overall story did not happen as far as this fic is concerned. Why? Because DR3 is just unbelievably terrible.
* Things from the anime that are canon (as far as I'm concerned) are the 77th class having the Ultimate Housekeeper Chisa as their teacher, who gets tortured into going insane by Mukuro, the Ultimate Imposter going to school disguised as the Ultimate Animator Ryota Mitarai, who is sickly and weak because he's too dedicated to his work, and Mukuro's emotional dependency upon, relationship with, and love of abuse from Junko. Things that are definitely non-canon for this fic are Junko having magical brainwashing anime powers, Chiaki Nanami being a real person, and the Ultimate Despairs just being normal-looking instead of weird and mutilated (DR2 makes it clear that at least some of them had purposefully fucked up their own bodies). Most of this will not come up or be important, but I just wanted to put all of that out there.