Chapter 1.3: The (Almost) Party Crasher

"May I join you?"

The following afternoon I had entered the cafeteria to see Kyoko sitting by herself. She didn't speak, but nodded slightly. I sat down in the seat opposite her.

I looked around. Many of the other students were in the room as well although I noticed that Junko was not among them.

However, i found that when I returned to the cafeteria later that evening, Junko no longer seemed to be on Leon's mind. He and Sayaka were sitting at a table, having a cup of tea. They were chatting animatedly with each other.

"—No really, I was bright red for days," said Leon, clearly in the middle of a story.

She laughed. "I have the same problem. Can't tan to save my life. Last summer when I came back from vacation all sunburnt and peeling, my poor manager nearly fainted when she saw me."

At a separate table, Hiro and Celeste were sitting together having a conversation. Or more accurately, from what I could pick up from the little I heard, Hiro was trying to coerce her into reading his fortune, but Celestia was having none of it.

"Come on, Celeste."

"No," she said, her tone firm.

"Please?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Absolutely not."

"Well, why not? Just one fortune. It doesn't even have to be a good one." He pouted.

She scoffed. "Do I look like I'm running a charity?"

The corners of my mouth twitched in an small smile. Kyoko made no attempt at conversation, but instead sat silently in her seat.

"How are you Kyoko?"

"I'm fine," she said briefly, not looking up at me.

She didn't elaborate any further, so I continued. "Been having fun?" I asked, more as attempt at humor than a genuine question.

She stopped looking down at the table and up at me questioningly.

I smiled. "Yeah, me neither."

Just then, Junko walked into the room, in what appeared to be deep conversation with Hina and Sakura.

"-Yeah, I know what you mean, but my arms get so flabby, I just can't build muscle there," said Junko.

"Weight training, it works miracles. Trust me," said Hina. Sakura nodded in agreement.

"I've been trying to eat healthier, too, although I can't stand it. My manager insists though because I'm I need to be able to 'run around the stage' or some—"she must have caught me looking at her because she paused mid-sentence when she spotted me. "Hey, big sis!" She waved, sauntering over to me, Hina and Sakura sitting down at one of the many other tables. Those two seemed to have hit it off.

"Makin' friends?" she asked.

"Mhm." I looked up at Junko, who was standing beside the table, and back at Kyoko.

"Actually, I was just leaving," said Kyoko.

"Aw no, don't go!" said Junko, sounding genuinely disappointed.

Kirigiri sighed, but she remained where she was.

Junko pulled up a chair, turning it around so that its back was facing the table, and sat down with us. "So what are you ladies talkin' about?"

"Um... Nothing actually," I admitted.

"How boring." Not knowing how to respond to that, I didn't answer. She nudged me with her elbow. "I saw you and Leon together in the gift shop. What was that about?"

"What?" I asked, confused at the sudden change of topic.

"I mean, are you guys talking or what? Come on, spill," she pried.

"You know I'm not much of a conversationalist, sis."

She shoved me in annoyance, although it was too light to really be anything other than playful. "Oh, you know what I mean."

I hesitated momentarily before giving her a playful shove in return. Gently though. "Actually, he was asking me about you," I confessed.

Her eyes for a moment widened in surprise, but they then narrowed, her eyebrows raised and jaw set. "What?"

"Mhm." I shrugged, not quite sure why she seemed so pissed off. "Seems to have a thing for musicians. Wants to be one himself."

Junko didn't seem like she was listening. She gritted her teeth. "Son of a bitch," she hissed quietly to herself. She shook her head. "Just what I need, more creeps drooling over me. As if that doesn't make the love ban hard enough."

"Love ban?" I asked.

"Idols aren't allowed to date," she explained, still sounding cross. "Ruins their 'image' or whatever." Heavy quotation marks with her fingers. "Allowing desperate creeps to cling onto the smallest hope that they have the ever-so-slightest chance of landing you (even though they really don't) is part of the appeal of the gig." Her voice was thick with sarcasm. She shook her head more vigorously. "Nope. Nope, nope, nope. I told myself I wasn't getting involved with musicians. I am d-o-n-e, done with them."

"How come?" I asked, intrigued.

"Too much baggage," she explained.

"But you're a musician," I said, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion.

"My point."

Realizing that was probably the best answer I would get, I glanced over at Kyoko who seemed to be paying no mind to us and was deliberately concentrating on a speck of dirt on her gloves.

Junko was seething. "I'm gonna slap the dye right out his hair."

"Huh," I said. "So I'm not the only one who noticed."

She rolled her eyes. "Please, I can spot a bottle-job from 20 meters."

"Shit, and they call me the Ultimate Detective." I grinned.

"Hey, maybe I can be your assistant!" she suggested eagerly.

At least she was no longer mad. "Heh, maybe... Hopefully it won't come to that though."

"Hey, who says we need a murder in order to do any investigating?" She partially covered up her face with her hand, her first two fingers and her thumb sticking out and the other two tucked away so that her eyes were still visible. "Elementary, my dear Watson." She spoke in a serene, serious voice.

"Uh, sis?"

She continued in her mysterious voice. "After brief analyzation, I've come to the conclusion that you're a B average student, wear a size seven shoe, your favorite color is purple, and you have one really awesome younger sibling. It's obvious isn't it?"

"Size seven and a half, but nice try, Detective Enoshima."

She maintained her collected poise. "I could get used to this."

"Well don't get too comfortable. If you steal my title, I'm pretty much screwed. I can't sing half as good as you."

"Do I look cool?" She quirked an eyebrow.

"The coolest," I told her. "Although I don't usually do the hand thing. That's new."

"It's my signature. I like being a detective. Makes me feel cool."

"Being a detective makes me feel cool, too."

She directed her attention towards Kyoko. "Let's see... If I had to guess, I'd say you're a runaway with some severe daddy issues."

Kyoko went pale, then bright red. The last thing I expected was for Junko to be right on the money.

"Junko!" I scolded her. "Are you alright Kyoko?"

Her only response was to nod slowly, but she seemed to have composed herself by then.

"I'm sorry Kyoko, Junko's mouth doesn't always have a filter," I said.

"Hey, I resent that!" said Junko indignantly, breaking the facade.

"It's alright," answered Kyoko, not addressing Junko but myself. "It seems to be a family trait." I knew she was referring to the incident the previous day concerning the map. I held my tongue; regardless, I was too embarrassed to even know what to say.

The sound of loud voices and footsteps alerted us the the fact Hifumi and Toko had just entered the room. They were in the middle of a very loud, very heated discussion which was somewhat surprising, considering the fact that Toko rarely was one to start conversation. Not to mention her attitude wasn't exactly the most inviting. She wasn't exactly what one would call approachable. Nevertheless, there they were, each with an expression of irritation that mirrored the others.

"—And so we can obviously conclude that the author's 'Word of God' is the most valid interpretation of a body of work," said Hifumi haughtily, using his rare deep authoritative voice.

"Yes, b-but even if you are the creator, once you put your work out in the world for people to see, people are g-going to interpret that however they may based on their own experiences, and those interpretations are just as valid as—"

"I'm not saying that those perspectives are worthless. You don't publish and sell your own original works, you wouldn't understand. To have your characters wildly misinterpreted; well that should be a crime in and of itself!"

"Euggggghhhhh... W-what is there to misinterpret?" I noticed that her stutter was less frequent when she was riled up although it was also more pronounced. "They're all one dimensional wish fulfillment fantasies."

"Hmph! You're one to talk about wish fulfillment fantasies."

"What's that supposed to mean? That j-just because I like doujin or write fanf-fics that I'm trash? That is what you're implying, isn't it?" She pointed an accusatory finger at him.

"The only point I was trying to make is that author's intent is the truest form of interpretation."

"You're completely wrong. Author's claims don't completely i-invalidate fan interpretation. There's s-some worth in that, otherwise why would fanfiction be a thing? Ugh." She made a noise of frustration. "D-don't answer that. I can't believe I'm wasting my time. This is all a joke to you isn't it? You're laughing at me, aren't you? Don't lie, I kn-know you are."

If I were to make a guess, I'd say that her talent was a development of the desire to have her voice be heard by the world in some way. She was bound to feel pretty isolated, whether she truly was or not. Not that I was any sort of expert or anything.

"Bad childhood?" Junko asked me, looking over at the pair of them who were still arguing. She had reverted back to her mysterious detective persona.

I nodded. "Oh, definitely."

"Which I'm guessing resulted in a desperate craving for positive attention and praise."

I gave her a mocking suspicious look. "You sure you're not out for my job?"

She giggled. "No, but I do like to think that I'm a pretty good people person, that's all."

Just then I heard my name. "Miss Mukuro Ikusaba! You will back me up in what I am trying to say, won't you?" Before I could answer, the two of them were already heading in the direction of our little table.

"What? I... No... I mean.. Are you sure wouldn't rather get the opinion of someone who is more well-read than myself?"

"No, w-why are you asking her? Are you still trying to prove how wrong I am?"

"Nonsense, Miss Mukuro Ikusaba!" He turned to Toko. "She is clearly a human being with some intelligence."

Her voice went up higher and higher in octaves the more indignant she became. "So that's it then! I'm wrong, just like always!"

I tried to pacify her. "Nobody is saying that you are wrong, Toko—"

She ignored me. "Ohhhhh, just go away, porky. I'm convinced this whole non-conversation was just a set-up so that you could make fun of me."

"Porky!" He cried. "You take jabs at my appearance without knowing the pages' true content! This 'porky' individual happens to be the one of the most brilliant young minds of our day and age!"

"Yeah, I mean vanity is great and all, but nothing beats good old-fashioned egotism, right?" said Junko.

I snorted.

Without warning, Junko stood up from her chair. "I'm hungry. Come with me to the kitchen, will you?" she said abruptly to me.

"Oh, alright."

We went over to the kitchen, subsequently leaving Kyoko sitting at the table by herself, aside from the two arguing newcomers whom she seemed to be trying very hard to ignore.

First thing I noticed when I entered the room was Chihiro standing in front of the open fridge. She smiled and waved when she saw us come in which we reciprocated.

"I'm not actually that hungry," Junko confessed to me in a low voice. "I just needed to get out of there." On the table there was a pile of dark red apples among the even larger stash of various fruits and vegetables, from which Junko picked the top one and offered it out to me. "Want one?"

I took it from her hesitantly and looked at it. It was red and shiny, almost like something you would see in an advertisement. I didn't eat it though, not yet. "Where do you think all this food is coming from?" I asked, still examining the red fruit in my hands.

"Hm?" said Junko, her mouth full of apple. Presumably she had taken another one for herself and had just bitten into it.

"Where do you think Monokuma is getting all this food?" I repeated. "It all seems fresh."

She shrugged, taking another bite of her apple.

"Actually, I had been wondering that myself," said Chihiro from behind us. I turned to face her. She was no longer by the fridge but standing just behind us. "I mean you can't just save fresh fruit forever. He must be keeping it somewhere."

"You'd think if he was planning to keep us here for a while, the food would be more along the lines of dried or canned food," I said.

"Canned food?" asked Chihiro.

"Oh my god," said Junko, coughing and nearly choking on her apple. "Don't tell me you don't know what canned food is."

"I... I know what it is," she said, perhaps a little too defensively. "I've just never had any before."

"Don't worry, you're not missing out on much," said Junko, still munching away. "Unless you want to experience the authentic feeling of being dumb and broke firsthand."

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand..."

"Don't worry kiddo, you probably won't have to. Want one?" She held out an apple to Chihiro. She took it with a quiet "thank you", but didn't eat it. "Alright, well we can't stay in here forever. Poor Kyoko looked so uncomfortable when we left her there with Hifumi and Toko." Her words were sympathetic, but she looked as if she were trying not to laugh.

When the three of us went back into the cafeteria, we saw that the group of people in the room had actually grown in size. The first thing I noticed was a very annoyed-looking Kyoko still sitting at the same table that had been nearly empty save for her just a little while ago but was now filled students having rather loud conversations, the new additions being Makoto, Taka, and Mondo. She and Mondo appeared to be in the middle of a conversation.

"—I fail to see how that's a problem."

"I can't. I won't do it, sorry," said Mondo, holding up his hands in resignation.

"You said you wanted a sparring partner. I want to spar you," said Kyoko bluntly.

"Hello, Mondo!" said Chihiro, beaming at him.

He looked up at her. "Hey kid," he said gruffly, but in an almost affectionate way. He turned back to Kyoko. "Look I'm sorry, I don't fight chicks. I just don't want to hurt ya, ok?"

Junko cut in. "You know, she's a trained soldier. I don't really think hurting her is that much of an issue. She could probably take you out in your sleep with her eyes closed before you even knew what was happening."

Kyoko cut in. "Junko, you really dont have to—"

Junko pulled up a chair from the table next to ours and sat down, with the chair facing backwards like before. She looked around. "Holy shit. Is everyone here? Did you guys invite everyone so that you could throw a party without me?"

I spoke up. "Hello, Kyoko."

She glared up at me from her seat, presumably blaming me for the large group of people at the table.

"Actually," mused Junko, who appeared to be talking to herself. "... That's not a bad idea. 1, 2, 3, 4..." She did was appeared to be a quick count of the people I'm the room. "15. Who's missing? Byakuya? Ah well, who needs him anyways."

"I don't like where this is going..." said Naegi, sounding uneasy.

"Come on, 'Kuro. Back me up here!" Junko pleaded, tugging on my arm.

"For what?"

"Weren't you listening? We should have a party!"

"A party?"

"Yes! Come on, it'll be great. It's a fantastic idea, right Makoto?"

"Well... It would be a good way for everyone to get to know each other," he said although he still sounded uncertain.

"Exactly!"

"Wait, I didn't necessarily—"

She ignored him, having already gotten the nod of approval from him, at least in her mind. "Guys, what do you think of having a party?" she called out to the rest of the room.

"Ooohhh, that sounds perfect actually."

"Splendid! Ha ha ha, how very festive!"

"Fuck yeah, what's the occasion?"

"Eugggghhhhh..."

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," said Junko. "Right, so we're gonna have to organize this damn thing first. Oh, I'm so excited! It's just so unfortunate that I'm not gonna be able to pull out all the stops, what with our limited resources."

The sound of static was heard from the speakers on the wall and with out warning the monitors flickered on to the display of Monokuma's face. Everybody turned to face the small screen on the cafeteria wall

Junko groaned. "Ugh... Not you again! Go away."

"No can do, princess. There's been a lot less killing than I had been hoping for, and I'm not happy."

"Princess?" she cried.

Makoto spoke up, directing his voice toward the monitor. His expression was cross. "Well, if you were hoping for a bloodbath, you can forget it. Nobody here is killing anyone."

The bear shook his head in disappointment. "I don't understand what went wrong. I've got the setting, circumstances, weapons, participants... Oh that's right, motives! How could I have been so foolish as to forget?"

"Motives?" asked Hina, sounding uneasy.

"Of course! Even with everything properly set up, people always need a catalyst. Why don't you all head over to the video room? I've got a special gift for each and every one of you." His grin, forever plastered on the creature's face, seemed even more mischievous and prominent than usual.

"Seriously? You don't even let me have my fun before you ruin everything with your creepy gifts and crap about 'motives'?" She was less anxious and worried like the rest of the students than she was simply disgusted and very put out, as if she had been punished by a parent rather than arguing with our captor who was trying to instigate murder.

Monokuma didn't answer. The screen went blank, which left the fifteen of us alone in the cafeteria, giving each other nervous looks. Nobody was sitting anymore, the mere sight of Monokuma must have been enough to make everybody rise to their feet.

"So... Should we just stay here, or..." Hina's voice trailed off, her question hanging in the air.

"I think we should just go," said Kyoko rationally. "Rather than to question it or wait and see what will happen if we don't."

On a personal note, I was rather curious to see what the motives were, even if going seemed rather risky.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. The first one to break it was Sayaka. "I don't want to go. I have a bad feeling about this," she said, her voice quavering.

"Well, at some point everyone's curiosity will be too great, and I'd rather we all just go together so that there are no secrets. Everyone just knows. At this point it seems easier to just comply since we don't know what the alternative is," said Celeste coolly.

"We should have more trust than that," insisted Makoto. He raised his voice so that everyone could hear him. "I would like to believe that nobody here would ever kill somebody. No matter what Monokuma throws at us, we must not give up."

The video room was not hard to find since it was right next to the entrance hall and the gift shop, and the dark green walls were strangely eerie combined with the poor lighting although it could have just been the nervous atmosphere. In the end, we had all decided to go. Even Byakuya, who hadn't even been in the cafeteria with the rest of us when the monitors had come on although he looked about as pleased as ever to be in our mixed company.

"B-Byakuya, you're here!" stuttered Toko in surprise.

"Of course he is, Byakuya wouldn't want to miss anything involving technology," said Junko.

He ignored her. "I wouldn't want to fall behind in the game."

Hina glared at him. "It's disgusting how you can call this a game."

"Nevermind," said Kyoko. "Let's just see what this is about." She opened the door and went inside, the rest of us following suit.

The room was even more dimly lit than the hallway, with at least sixteen stations where monitors were set up, along with one large screen at the front of the room. At the closest station, there was a small cardboard box. Inside was a stack of DVDs, each one had a name—one of our names—scrawled on it in what appeared to be marker. I selected the one with my name on it and sat down at one of the monitors, as did the rest of my classmates.

I put the disk in the slot, pressed the power button, put on the pair of headphones that was sitting at the desk, and waited anxiously.

As soon as the monitor came on, the image that was present on screen was one of my mother.

What is this? I thought. She was smiling at me from her seat in the worn-in armchair that sat in the tiny living room of our tiny, cramped, old, shoebox of an apartment. I could see the drab window curtains hanging in the background, the ones I had always hated.

"Hello, dear." Her familiar voice, although altered slightly throughout the speaker, was soft and comforting as usual, but perhaps it was more noticeable due to the fact that I may have been just a touch homesick. Hell, her presence alone was comforting, despite the fact that I knew it was only a recording.

I could feel my eyes watering. "Hi, mom," I answered back, unable to help myself, my voice breaking.

"Have a good time at school, honey. I'm proud of you." She actually smiled, the effect reaching her the crow's feet on her hooded eyes that were nearly the same shade of blue as mine. My mother looked much more like me than she did Junko, what with her freckles and black hair, albeit much longer and typically worn in a braid.

A part of me, the more irrational and definitely more homesick part, was hoping in vain that she wouldn't ever leave. The other part of me wondered when exactly she had filmed this footage.

The screen went black, flickering back on after a brief moment, but the only thing on the visible was static. Slowly the picture came back, and the image was still of our apartment living room, only something was clearly very wrong.

The apartment—our apartment, the one that was always slightly too dark and too small and was always too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter and always smelled a little like the numerous books that lined the shelves everywhere and was always making a new home for some odd new contraption or tool, the one with the coffee table that was always littered with Mother's work, the one where we could settle down and relax together when one or both of us came home from a case, the one that had finally started to feel like home after years of moving from place to place—was completely trashed.

The room was dark, the lamps broken, the window shattered, the curtain mangled and torn, the contents of the coffee table all over the floor. The old armchair had been turned on its side. But the worst part, was that my mother was nowhere to be seen.

I couldn't speak, all I could do was stare, transfixed, at the screen in horror. I could hear through my headphones several cries from the other students, the panic in their voices mirroring my own emotions.

Words flashed across the screen in big bold letters. "World-class detective gone missing without a trace! Are you ready to solve this mystery, super high school level detective? Will Detective Ikusaba ever reunite with her daughter? Find out after GRADUATION!"

The monitor went black. "Mom?" Mom! I removed my headphones, still in a state of shock. I could now clearly hear the distress of other students. Looking around the room, everyone looked as panicked as I felt.

I've got to get out of here. I shuddered. Had the room always been this cold? I've got to get out of here. I can't stay. I need to leave.

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. "Junko?" I called, standing up. There was no answer. "Sis?" From where I stood, she was nowhere to be seen.

At the monitor beside me was Makoto. His face was ashen and he had this sort of blank, hollow look on his face. I'd never seen him this shaken. In fact, all of my classmates appeared in varying degrees of shaken; from Toko's frantic muttering of of "Why this? Why this?", to Sakura's resolute silence and Mondo's anger, to Chihiro and Taka who seemed to nearly been driven to the point of tears, to Byakuya and Kyoko who seemed very unsettled even while maintaining their composure.

"How can this be?" cried Taka.

"No, no, nononono," said Hiro, speaking more to himself than to anyone else in the room. "This is all gotta be a sick joke. My-"

"What-what is this?" asked Hina, her face ashen. "They're messing with us. It has to be fake. Please tell it's fake! There's no way they'd be able to pull something like this off, right, Sakura?"

Sakura remained silent.

"Sakura?"

"Not now, Hina."

"But-"

"I said not now!" snapped Sakura, fists clenched, hair standing on end, her anger sparking electric and somehow more terrifying than we had even anticipated. Directed towards Hina of all people, it was even more peculiar and frightening to see her composed exterior crack.

"I-I'm sorry..." said Hina.

Sakura looked equally as horrified with her own behavior. "I must go."Just then, I heard the sound of rushed footsteps along with a click and the creaking of an opening door. I turned I'm time to barely see an unmistakeable head of pink hair disappear as it slipped past into the hallway.

"Junko!" I called. I ran after her into the hall. "Junko!"

Looking around the hall, I did not see Junko. The only people in the vicinity were Sayaka and Leon; Sayaka sitting on the floor, hugging her arms to her body and shivering all over, her breathing fast and erratic, Leon crouching down in front of her doing his best to comfort her.

"This is so cruel.. Why are we being subjected to this? Kill or be killed?"

"Shhhh... It's ok."

"I c-can't stay here..."

"Sayaka, relax. Please—"

"I can't stay."

"You won't. Sayaka, please, calm down."

"I-I need to leave, I don't want to die!"

"You're not gonna die. Sayaka, Sayaka, look at me. Nobody's going to hurt you."

"I don't believe you!"

"Sayaka, please. Look at me. Breathe. Just relax, and breathe with me. Good. Listen, I promise you that no harm will come to you, ok?"

Not wanting to seem like I was eavesdropping, I ducked into the nearest classroom only to find, to my surprise, a familiar figure already standing in the middle of the room, facing away from the door.

I closed the door behind me, it clicking as it closed shut, but if she heard me, she didn't say anything.

I approached her cautiously. "Junko?"

She didn't answer.

"Junko? Sis?" I reached out a hand, placing it on her shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" she cried, tearing away from me and fleeing to the far left corner of the room although she was no longer facing away.

I tried to reason with her. "Junko, it's me. It's your sister." I approached her again, and this time she stayed where she was although I wouldn't try to touch her again even if in an attempt at comfort.

"I don't want to die," she whispered, barely audible.

"I know."

She was trembling. "Just... Don't leave me, ok?" Before I knew it, her arms were around, and she was hugging me and crying, her body wracked with sobs.

"I won't. I won't, I promise." Not quite sure was to do, I patted her awkwardly on the back.

She sniffed, finally letting go of me and wiping at her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I told her. "Listen, we're going to leave this horrid place. The two of us are going to leave together, I promise. As your big sister, I'm going to keep you safe. Ok?"

She nodded.

"Ok."

"Are you alright, Makoto?" I asked. I had returned to the video room a little later that evening, and the room was empty now, save for the two of us. He was still sitting down at the same monitor as earlier as though he hadn't moved an inch.

"Oh!" He turned in his chair, startled to see me standing behind him. "Sorry, Mukuro, I didn't see you." He smiled although I could see that it was only half-hearted from weary. "I'm... Actually no, I'm not ok."

"It's alright, neither am I." When he didn't answer, I continued cautiously. "What did you see?"

"... My family."

I don't know what compelled me to do it, but I sat down on the floor beside him, sighing. "Me, too. Well, my mother, anyway."

He seemed surprised at my actions, but he sat down next to me on the cold tile floor. "You don't have any family besides your mother?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No. Not until I met Junko... Do you have any siblings?" I inquired, turning to look at him to see that he was he was looking at me as well with a curious look in his eyes.

"One. My little sister, Komaru."

"And how far would you go to keep her safe? Would you do anything?" I stared at him intently, needing any sign or reassurance that this new feeling of overprotectiveness just came with the perks of being the older sibling and it wasn't just me.

"Mukuro?"

"Don't worry, I don't plan on killing anyone. But I'm going to do whatever it takes to keep Junko safe. Anyways, I've seen enough dead bodies in my life."

He sighed, hugging his knees. "Are we ever going to get out of here, Mukuro?"

My gaze strayed away from him. "I don't know."

"I don't know what to do. As moral compass, I want to keep everybody safe. It's part of my job."

I wasn't quite sure what to say, so I stayed silent.

"Even as scared and desperate to get out of here as I am, I'd never be able to kill anyone. It's hard to believe that somebody else here might be different."

I admired his idealism, even if I could never be on the same page. "I learned quite while back that some people have very different agendas and prerogatives."

"I understand," he said, turning to look at me once again. "I mean, I would like to be able to trust everyone here, and for everyone to do the same for me. As far as I've seen, the people here are good. I have to believe in that."

I nodded. "I agree. They're all decent kids."

For a while, all we did was sit together in silence on the cold, uncomfortable, speckled tile floor.

"You looked really nice the other day, Mukuro," said Makoto, first to end the silence.

I flushed red, hoping that maybe he wouldn't notice. If he did, he didn't say anything. "Thanks, Makoto."

"During our introductions I was actually kind of intimidated by you," he admitted sheepishly. "But you're actually really cool."

"Intimidated?"

"Yeah, you know, because you seem all serious, and you don't talk much."

"Huh." I furrowed my brow.

"Although I guess the moral of the story is not to take everything at face value," he added.

"Or the moral is not to hit people with doors."

"You make it sound like I did it on purpose." He pouted. "I really am sorry about that, you know."

"It's fine. How about on our way out, you let me hit you with the door so that we're even." I got up from my little spot on the ground and offered out hand to him. "Deal?"

He laughed, taking my hand, and I helped him up. "Deal."