femslash feb 2022 prompt 24: steel.

Sequestered Like a Fly

Ikusaba sits in a sterile room with gray walls and a tiled floor. There are two individual security cameras pointed at her above the lone door straight in front of her. If she moves even slightly, they will notice it. If she twists her ankles or wrists, she'll feel the weight of the steel cuffs binding them together. She does not look at her hands, knowing they are unusable in this situation, so she sits with her palms flat out on the plain wooden desk.

The Future Foundation has not been considerate to her. She understands why. Their reasoning for imprisoning her is perfectly sound. She is the other half of the Despair Sisters, the destroyers of humanity. So long as she continues to supply information, then she can keep her head on her shoulders, or so Munakata said, much to the outrage of her classmates.

Ikusaba does not protest their treatment. It's a fitting punishment, one that Fenrir would have believed was too lenient for insubordination. She had betrayed her little sister and freed her classmates from the killing game, entering a world ruled by hedonism and anarchy. Even now, glaring holes through the door, she ruminates over her decisions. She cannot return to Enoshima's side, nor can she claim that she is her own person so long as the strawberry blonde wig rests upon her head, the long, flowing locks tickling her sharp jawline.

Then again, everything she still does is for the sake of creating despair so great it crushes both sisters. Enoshima might have severed their ties with three simple words, but Ikusaba strives to return that hopeless sensation a thousandfold unto her. She'll ensure that Enoshima drowns in a sea so jet black that she's blinded, but thus far, Ikusaba's efforts have been minimal. Confined to various Future Foundation maximum security cells, all she can do is hope that revealing Enoshima's secrets slowly carves away at her meticulously crafted plan.

The door hinges creak. Ikusaba takes in a breath that fills her chest only to exhale. Her guests are her allies. Ishimaru holds open the door for Oowada and Kirigiri, the branch head keeping a clipboard to her chest. He presses his gloved hand on the door as he closes it, the guards outside following his every move until it quietly clicks shut.

Once he finishes, he flashes Ikusaba a bright, toothy grin. "Ikusaba-kun! How good it is to see you again. It's been some time. You're looking healthier."

The corner of her lip twitches upward in what she hopes is a decent smile. "I've been through worse."

Oowada smirks, shrugging his broad shoulders as he leans into the wall. "Yeah, I figured. Last room they had you locked up in was an actual jail cell. Pretty sure it still had piss in the can when they threw you inside."

Ikusaba's nose wrinkles and Ishimaru shoots Oowada a pointed look. She doesn't need the reminder and hopes to change the subject. "So, I take it you guys need more information about Junko-chan's special class?"

Kirigiri gives a curt nod. "Yes. You've provided the Future Foundation with critical details about them, but we have to ask you about four particular Remnants of Despair. Specifically, we need information on how to circumvent them before they attack. Sakakura-kun's branch has reported increased trouble with them over the weeks in an area where they're vying for control." She moves around the desk next to Ikusaba, shuffling through her papers. She crouches, Ikusaba catching a faint whiff of blueberry perfume. "Here. Read and I'll explain."

Ishimaru and Oowada stand in front of the table. Their wide, muscular bodies create a shadow over her, both young men looking down at the clipboard as well. Her eyes dart across the page, and as she reads, she doesn't make a sound. Kirigiri points at the paper, asking if she would know why Owari Akane and Nekomaru Nidai would choose to fight alongside the Kuzuryuu group this late into the war.

We've secured three more Remnants of Despair. Saionji, Koizumi, and Mioda are in transfer to the island.

The message is received loud and clear. Ikusaba raises her head, saying, "Owari and Nidai are more physical, as you know. They live to fight for despair. Kuzuryuu has probably promised them good battles if they side with him for a while. Owari is more likely to defect if she believes the brawls are no longer interesting. If Nidai sees those yakuza strengthen as a team, then he'll more likely than not stay with them rather than aid Owari alone." She glances over at Kirigiri. "If you want my recommendation, I suggest you try to isolate Owari and take her by surprise. If she's alone, then the ball may fall in your favor, but if she's ravenous, run."

Oowada cracks his knuckles. A worn bandage is still wrapped around his calloused palm from the last time he dueled the former gymnast. "Heh. That chick did chomp the shit out of my hand."

"Did you disinfect it this morning?" Ishimaru swiftly demands.

He sighs. "Yeah, I did. Look, it's getting better, man. No need to worry. I'm fine."

Ishimaru furrows his brow as if biting back a response. Ikusaba knows that not too long ago, Pekoyama had combated Oowada. If Ishimaru hadn't intervened, her blade clashing against his iron pipe, then there would have only been three people in her cell.

Standing, Kirigiri hands the clipboard to Ishimaru. "Thank you, Ikusaba-san. I'll relay what you said to Sakakura-kun." She smooths down the wrinkles on her skirt. "With that out of the way, Ikusaba-san, how have you been feeling lately?"

Her eyebrows raise. Rubbing her thumbs against her fingertips, she shifts her gaze to the pointed corner of the table. Without a script supplied by Enoshima, she scrambles to think of a suitable answer.

Ishimaru offers her a sympathetic look. "Well, Kirigiri-kun, as Ikusaba-kun has been sequestered in cell after cell, I doubt it's been good for her."

"I was treated far worse in Fenrir. Jail cells don't bother me," Ikusaba bluntly remarks.

Ishimaru goes to reply, only to pause and promptly shut his mouth. He shares a glance with Oowada, the former gang leader snaking his hand behind his neck to scratch it. Kirigiri's expression, unlike theirs, doesn't change. She takes in Ikusaba's neutral demeanor, Ikusaba's brow furrowing at their undesirable attention, and Ikusaba questions if they need more information.

Kirigiri shakes her head. "I'd rather discuss something in private."

Ikusaba leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. The chains clink, and her wrists twitch from a dull ache caused by the metal consistently rubbing against her skin. She searches for what else needs to be said, noticing how Kirigiri had never taken her focus away from her, even when she requested for Ishimaru and Oowada to leave.

Neither protest. They wish Ikusaba well, and Ishimaru urges her to get better rest. She wonders if the concealer she had applied had worn off enough to reveal the dark circles under her eyes. Oowada jerks open the door, and the guards tighten their grips on their weapons in their presence. Oowada slings his arm around Ishimaru's shoulder, and Ishimaru keeps the clipboard against his chest, flashing that familiar smile at the guards while they make their exit.

As soon as the door shuts, Ikusaba asks, "What is it? I'm surprised they didn't make you leave with them."

"This office might belong to Sakakura-kun, but I'm also a branch head. They've given me an extra five minutes to personally converse with you," she replies, lowering her voice, "but I doubt it's truly private."

Ikusaba runs her thumb across her uneven cuticles. The cameras track her every movement, one lowering slightly to concentrate on her hands. She purses her lips, knowing that a single odd word would cast suspicion over their operation, and she simply waits for the detective to speak.

Kirigiri returns to Ikusaba's side. She crouches next to her, resting one gloved hand on Ikusaba's knee. "I'm going to request that you be freed into the custody of the fourteenth branch," she says, her voice as smooth as velvet.

It's a pleasant surprise. Ikusaba had anticipated Kirigiri would suggest it, but her superiors would deny that request in a heartbeat. There were too many risks. Ikusaba could have defected and taken crucial Future Foundation information with her to Enoshima. She had devotees who emulated her merciless killings. Some of them even resided in Sakakura's division, not that he knew. They wouldn't have hesitated to seek her out if she was on the battlefield or even residing at a cozy desk job in Kirigiri's office, their worship more like a blemish on Ikusaba's face when she tried applying make-up in the morning.

"You would still be confined to my building, but it'll be better than this," she promises, articulating as if Ikusaba's expression had somehow betrayed her uncertainty.

"It's a generous offer," is all she says.

Silence befalls them. Kirigiri's gaze does not soften or harden. Her familiar air of confidence comforts Ikusaba. Platitudes would have only reminded her of Enoshima's severance.

Ikusaba rubs her chapped lips together, thinking of what is proper to say in a conversation where she is being offered peace of mind, but nothing fits. The sentences in her mind are more fragmented and jagged than a serrated knife. If she opens her mouth, they'll tumble out and spill on the table, spreading only confusion.

"Do you still want to bring despair to your sister?" Kirigiri suddenly asks.

Her mind blanks. All thoughts vanish from her head. Ikusaba gazes down at her, truly unable to respond. The obvious answer is yes, which they both know, but she struggles to verbalize it.

"Enoshima Junko had you under her thumb since you were little girls, right?" Kirigiri stands but clutches Ikusaba's rigid shoulder, her blueberry perfume almost overwhelming her. Dipping her head, she lowers her voice, her sincere expression all that Ikusaba sees when she glances out of the corner of her eye. "She can't use you anymore, Ikusaba-san. I will ensure that."

Every time Enoshima told her to jump, she asked how high. When Enoshima commanded her to sing, she gave a pitch-perfect performance while the student council slaughtered each other. If Enoshima now offers her a knife and aims at her neck, then Ikusaba isn't sure whose throat would have been slashed.

And Kirigiri's promise is still too good to be true for a girl as hopeless as her.

She breaks eye contact and leers at her handcuffs. "It's not that simple."

Mercifully, Kirigiri doesn't pry. Instead, she lets her fingers brush down her arm as if checking for an injury. Her index finger twitches and something falls into Ikusaba's pocket, obscured by the shadow of the table. It's thin, no larger than a bobby pin, and Ikusaba wordlessly realizes what it is when Kirigiri rises to her full height.

"Ikusaba-san, thank you for your help today. I'll be in touch shortly," she says, her tone slightly off. Ikusaba can't quite place it, but it reminds her of how she clutched the destroyed Monokuma and promised to bring ruin to the Despair Sisters.

She nods. "Happy to be of help, Kirigiri."

Hints of smiles pull at their lips. It lasts for the briefest of seconds as the door slams open. Sakakura stands there with his hands in his pockets, his expression fixed in a permanent scowl. Kirigiri greets him before slipping out, and Ikusaba watches her shadow grow thinner until he kicked the door shut behind him.

"Alright, Ikusaba, visiting hours are over. Tell me everything you know about Owari and Nidai's battle plans," he snaps, "and don't think about hiding anything or else. Got it?"

Adjusting her posture, feeling the needle in her pocket, Ikusaba nods, more than ready to join her classmates for their operation that will lead to an ending that she's certain not even Enoshima can predict.