Hello again. I apologize for the long delay between the prologue and this chapter. I will attempt to write with much closer frequency from here on out. Anyways, I hope you enjoy.
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Chapter 1: Every Story Begins Somewhere
Hajime; The Ultimate Dreamer
Hajime Hinata had dreams of fame and grandeur. He wanted to shake hands with wealthy people, spend time with celebrities, and change the world with his unique abilities. There was only one problem. He didn't have any. Rather, he was infamously... ordinary. The only thing that could possibly said of him was that he was The Ultimate Dreamer. But a dreamer, who lacked any ability to accomplish said dreams, was of absolutely no interest to anybody.
Hajime sat in his room, a small square space that barely had enough room for him, his bed, his dresser, and the desk where kept his computer. The computer was old, cheap, and couldn't handle anything more complex than Windows 98. In a world where it was difficult to even find computers that had less than a terabyte of space, Hajime's 32GB pc spoke wonders about his life.
His clothes were old as well, the wideness of stitch marks showing how many times his jeans had been stitched together. His T-shirts were worn, purchased from places like Salvation Army and Goodwill. His computer, though, was not the most bizarre thing about Hajime's room. Every bit of space on the walls was covered with affirmation statements, dream boards, and pictures.
Pictures of famous high schoolers lined the walls. Kazuichi Soda, a pink haired engineer, who had built his own car at the age of fifteen and Hifumi Hamada, a fanfiction writer who had become famous and made a lot of money for his stories about an anime called Demon Angel Pretty Pudgy Princess were two such people. But, of the dozens plus pictures hanging on the walls, the teenager that fascinated Hajime the most was a young female programmer named Chihiro Fujisaki, who had blown the mind of the world on multiple occasions with her creations.
There was one thing that all of these teenagers had in common. They were all students attending the Ultimate course of the legendary school, Hope's Peak Academy. Said school was also the wallpaper on Hajime's ancient computer, the school of Hajime's dreams. Sadly, not just anybody could enroll in Hope Peak's Ultimate Course, and even A+ grades in all subjects wouldn't have been enough. No 'normal' human being could get into it, regardless of what they did.
The people who attended the Ultimate Course stood above the rest of humanity, the heroes and world-shakers, the people who had been born with insane talents, who had been born lucky, people for whom the stars just… seemed to align. They were gifted, shining lights to the world, beacons of greatness. They were, in so many ways, superior. And Hajime dreamed of being amongst those chosen few.
Hajime had tried hard, reciting his dream, studying constantly to keep all of his grades in the A to A+ range, and worked on finding his 'latent Ultimate Ability', but in the end, none of that had been enough. A normal person simply couldn't will himself into being an Ultimate. Which was he had chosen for the last two years to rely on a rather peculiar practice Hope Peak's Academy held each year. The Lottery.
The Ultimate course only accepted 32 or 48 students a year – two or three classes with exactly 16 students a piece, and each of these students was the best High Schooler in the world at that. They were given the title of Ultimate. Kazuichi Soda was the Ultimate Mechanic. Hifumi Hamada was the Ultimate Fanfiction Writer. And Chihiro was The Ultimate Programmer.
As far as the lottery was concerned, however, this strict requirements to join this course was completely ignored. Basically, it grabbed one random High Schooler from anywhere in the world, labeled them "The Ultimate Lucky Student", and inserted them into the special course. They'd never once been turned down. No parent would ever deny their child the future that an education at Hope's Peak Academy guaranteed. Hajime was convinced the stars would align, and he would be the next Ultimate Lucky Student.
At the moment, Hajime had just booted up his computer and was waiting for his computer to load his email. This had been going on for almost ten minutes, because the internet at his house was terrible. His sister, Jakkī Hinata, was often comparing it with one of the original forms of internet usage, something called 'Dial Up'.
As soon as his email was loaded, Hajime scrolled through it, looking for the email that would decide his future. That would prove he had an Ultimate Talent after all. That he wasn't just Hajime the Impossible Dreamer, but rather Hajime the Ultimate LUCKY student. That the world WAS on his side, and all of his dreams truly were achievable. But... search as he might, the only things in his email box were a few pieces of spam, and one or two messages from the high school he had attended the year before.
"Hajime!" The door to Hajime's run swung open and an angry, scolding, reproachful voice entered. Hajime swallowed. Jakki had every reason to be upset with him right now, and he figured he would probably be getting an earful. Shutting down the computer, Hajime slowly turned around. A slender young woman about seven years older than Hajime, was standing their with arms crossed, tapping her foot impatiently.
Jakki was a striking young woman. She had silky, wavy brown hair that went down to her shoulders. Her eyes were soft and blue, and her skin was soft. However, her clothes weren't much better than Hajime's, and she always looked exhausted. 60-80 hours of minimum wage work a week since she had turned sixteen, in order to barely make do had done, had done a number to her.
"I already told you, twice, that you are not to go back to your room until you have finished cleaning the house." Her eyes fell on Hajime's email, and she shook her head with a sigh." Honestly, Haji. I just don't get you." Jakki sighed and walked back into the main room of the house, which consisted of nothing more than a loveseat, a chair, and the dining table. Reaching the chair, she slumped down into it, exhausted. She also covered her face with her right hand.
Hajime slowly followed her out of the room, watching her collapse into the chair. His sister was one of the most incredible people he had ever met. She worked so much, cared so much, gave so much… that that was next to nothing left for her. She'd given up any dreams she'd had of becoming a fashion designer, dropping out of high school, and spending the most precious years of her life working constantly… just to keep a roof over their heads.
He stopped behind the chair, and set his hands on his sister's shoulders, slowly massaging them. "Sorry, Jakki," he apologized. He knew she felt guilty about the kind of life her hard work provided. She worked so hard, so frequently, and came home so exhausted every day… and they were barely scraping by.
As Hajime stood there, massaging his sister's shoulders, mind dwelling on that, he glanced back towards his computer. All he wanted was the slightest proof… that the world wasn't against them. That he could succeed, make something of himself, and eventually pay back his sister for everything that she had sacrificed. Going to Hope's Peak's Ultimate Course was about fulfilling everything he had ever dreamed of, but taking care of his sister as she had taken care of him, had always been number one.
"I don't get you, Haji. Why are you so obsessed with this whole Ultimate Lucky Lottery." Jakki broke the silence. Hajime opened his mouth to respond, but one glance from his sister shut it again. "Don't give me the crappy 'it's Hope's Peak Academy,' Haji." She motioned to a jar filled with coins sitting on a mantle piece.
Hajime looked at the jar with a pit in his stomach. He felt guilty every time he looked at it. "I worked my guts out saving up money," Jakki said. "Two full time jobs, and lots of side jobs too. But I presented you that jar last year, after you didn't get picked... and it's still sitting there unused."
He couldn't take that, couldn't accept it. When she had sacrificed so much for him already, he just couldn't bring himself to take that money too. "I don't want to take your hard earned money, Jakki." Hajime stammered out. Hope's Peak was expensive, and there were far better ways that money could be spent. "Once I get selected for Hope's Peak, I won't be around to help you out anymore. I'd rather you use that money to hire a maid or..."
"For once in your life, Hajime, get your head out of the clouds." As she said this, her body stiffened and she turned to stare disapprovingly at Hajime. Hajime's hands stop massaging as he took a step back, surprised by his sister's sudden harshness. "Don't get me wrong," her look softened. "It's your best quality, and what I love the most about you... but if you expect things to just fall into your lap... you're going to miss your chance."
There was regret in those last few words, a regret that ate away that Hajime every day as he looked at his exhausted sister, constantly fighting the Despair that threatened to overtake her. After everything she'd given up for him, after everything the world had taken away, she had nothing to show for it. "... like you did?" Hajime asked, his voice filled with shame and regret, his eyes looking towards the floor.
Jakki instantly stood to her feet and set her hands on Hajime's shoulders. "No, Haji." Her voice was full of emotion, brimming with tears. "I regret a lot of things in my life. But choosing you has NEVER been one of them. Don't ever think that way." She pulled him into an embrace. "I'm just worried... about not doing enough... and somehow messing up your future. I was so young, and I've made so many mistakes."
Hajime didn't know how to respond as she said that. She was worried about not doing enough for him? Worried about screwing up his life? After everything he'd taken away from her, after his need for a guardian had robbed her of the last couple years of her childhood, after the countless hours of work, the tears she'd shed, the pain she'd endured… She was worried about not doing enough? He instinctively lowered his eyes.
Jakki set her hand under his chin and raised his eyes to look into her own. "No matter what happens. No matter what anybody tells you. Keep going. Never expect the world to give you what you want on a silver platter. We're not part of that lucky few. Even if the entire world is against you, keep fighting. Keep going forward, and never forget, Hajime... You have greatness inside of you that you need to let the world see. Promise me. If the lottery doesn't choose you this year, you'll take that jar, and go anyways."
As Hajime looked into his sister's eyes, a new feeling of determination rose in his chest. "Ok," Hajime said, fighting back tears as he asked himself what he had done to be born with a sister like Jakki. He really was the Ultimate Lucky High Schooler, even if the lottery chose to say otherwise. And he would prove it to the world. He was the only Hope his sister had of ever getting out of the situation they were in, and he would not let her down. "Ok, Jackie. I promise."
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Mukero; The Ultimate Soldier
The flap of the tent flew open and a fourteen year old black haired Caucasian girl stormed in. She wore a Kevlar vest over a long sleeved white shirt. On her feet were a pair of slide-on male dress shoes, and long black socks stretched most of the way to her knees. On her back was a small, thin missile launcher, and a sniper rifle. A machine gun hung at her side. Anywhere else, this would have been a cause for alarm, but walking around so heavily armored was a natural thing in Fenrir's camp.
'Tent' was a severe understatement to describe the majestic room that Mukero had stormed into. It was filled with treasures from throughout time; statues, paintings, illustrations, books, and jewels that would have easily passed for millions, and many of them tens, or even hundreds, of millions a piece. Sitting in a fine leather chair, a middle-aged Arabian man sat, leaning back, smoking a pipe.
"Yo, Nasser!" The girl called out, her silver eyes flashing with anger. "What the heck is this I'm hearing about Fenrir disbanding?" The girl's name was Mukero, Mukero Ikusaba, to be exact, and she was the prodigy of the mercenary group known as Fenrir.
Fenrir was a legend, a power house, a secret mercenary group that worked for secret organizations. They were an unstoppable force that had their hands in almost every true coup, governmental secret, and mysterious murder of known dignitaries. In fact, the knowledge they had gathered from their numerous assignments was greater than that of any individual secret organization, even that of the Togami Corporation. And the man in front of Mukero was its leader.
Nasser was stockily built, strong and slim and muscular. Not overly muscular, like that of a body builder, but rather smoothed over, adding to his rough, tough look. His face had several small scars on his cheeks, face, nose, even on slice across his neck from a failed attempt on his life. He wore a simple brown tunic. Looking up at Mukero, Nasser calmly set down his pipe. "It's true. Fenrir is over, Mukero." He motioned for her to sit down on his rug.
Over. Hearing the words come out of Nasser's mouth was like a bullet straight to the heart. Mukero's mind jolted back to her hell-like home, her parents who weren't much better than child slave owners. It was hard to describe what a hell on earth that house had been, but the scars it had left were still deep several years later. Fenrir had taken her out of that, and brought her up themselves instead. It was the only home she knew.
A shudder of Despair ran thru her spine, a chill of twisted pleasure along with it, as she considered the prospect of going home. She pushed the depraved thoughts from her mind, and sat down next to Nasser on another, slightly less fancy, chair. "But that doesn't make sense. Fenrir has existed for hundreds of years, and our generation is better than any of the ones that came before. And our last mission was a complete success.
"Our last hundred missions were successes. Fenrir has always gone above and beyond what was expected of us. Always. So… why do we need to disband?" It was a forced situation. It had to be. Fenrir wasn't just a group of mercenaries. It was her family, and she wasn't the only one who felt that way. The people of Fenrir had a special bond as strong as any family had ever had. Disbanding Fenrir was nothing less than taking your family and forcefully ripping it apart.
Mukero couldn't make much sense of the emotions bouncing around in her head at the moment. Fear, anger, loss, pain, and Despair. Despair was the one that she never quite understood. She knew there was something wrong with her, and unlike her little sister, she often had a hard time accepting it.
The weird giddy feeling and joy that seemed to accompany Despair. It was... unsettling. Like... like when you knew you were doing something wrong, but were enjoying it anyway. The thrill that came with getting away with such an action. How would anybody outside of Fenrir be able to tolerate such a freak of nature?
Junko would tolerate it. She was much worse. But she was stuck at home with their drunken scumbag parents. And that was a place Mukero had no intention of ever going back to. Even if it meant never seeing her twin sister again. She'd gone so far as to throw off her last name and adapt Nasser's. Ikusaba. No longer was she Mukero Enoshima, daughter of the twisted, sick Enoshima family. She was Mukero Ikusaba, and her father was her hero.
Nasser was silent for a moment, merely setting his hand on Mukero's shoulder. Then he said, "I think you know exactly why, Mukero." He squeezed her shoulder gently as he spoke. "We got ambitious. We took on more and more dangerous missions, went deeper and deeper into opposing factions of the secret organizations. And we have far more power than any Fenrir generation before us.
"We have enough influence, enough sensitive information, that we could topple the world if we wanted to. The Togami Corporation knows this, and fears us. What they fear, the rest of the secret world fears as well. That if we so chose, we could bring them all to their knees. We could level the world." The Togami Corporation… Byakuya Togami.
Mukero frowned as she thought about the boy. She'd been an integral part of his ascension, certainly, but she couldn't really say she liked the boy. He was selfish, haughty, condescending, and pig-headed. But he was a genius the likes of which Mukero had never met before. And their experiences together had bonded them in away. Against her better judgment, she had always hoped they'd meet again. This was not the way she'd hoped to do it.
"Then why don't we?" Mukero stood to her feet in a rage, though whether more of it was directed at the Togami Corporation, or at Nasser for being willing to simply throw in the towel, she wasn't sure. "Burn them all. Show them that we will do what we need to in order to stay a family. If they are afraid we have the power to destroy the world, and we do, why would you choose running away over staying together as a family?"
"Believe me, Darling," Nasser said, setting down his pipe, and standing up beside her; a sign to indicate that he was treating this situation with the severity that it deserved. "I have thought the same thing so many times. There are so many moments when it would simply have been easier to crush our enemies underfoot with the influence that we have been able to gain. "I have mulled the possible outcomes in my head, over and over again, and there is simply no situation in which they end well for us. If the world burns, the people who burned it will go down right alongside." That was when Mukero saw it, a look that she had never seen on the man's face before. He was broken, sad, weak.
The outer mask that he always wore, the mask that made him look tough and solid during the toughest of times… was gone. "I can't let you guys die that way." Mukero embraced Nasser, holding tightly to him, as if she could somehow hold him together, keep him from breaking. Keep the world the way it was now; good, safe, home. As if… as if miracles really did exist in this world.
And there it was again, pumping through her. The twisting, marred with pain, feeling of exhilaration that she could never feel Despair without. It made her shudder, involuntarily. But she wouldn't give in. She was stronger than that. "Fine. We split up. Fenrir collapses. The Togami Corporation wins. As long as I am with you, I'll be fine," Mukero said firmly. "Don't try and argue, Dad."
She'd never called him that before, despite always thinking of him that way. And she knew he thought of her as his daughter. But that was a line that neither of them had been willing to cross in the past. There was just too much baggage that came along with the term, on both sides. But she said it now, making it clear, she wouldn't take no for an answer.
Nasser held Mukero tightly, and she could hear him struggling not to break down any further. "I wish life could work out like that, Mukero. I really… truly… do. I wish… I wish I could give you a happy ending… which I could tell you that everything will be ok… wish… wish I could say that we will always be together… but I can't. You can't go with me, Mukero, because I'm not going anywhere. Us at the top… we don't get to run."
"Don't get to…" Mukero's face filled with horror as the pounding emotions Despair always created inside of her bounced around like pinballs. "No… No. Dad, no!"
"Yes. Fenrir needs to be destroyed. All the known members need to die. Otherwise… you and the others will never be safe. They need to believe that they won, and if I run, the hunt will never end. I swore, when we first met, that I would give you a future. Now… this is the only way. I need you to be safe."
"Safe?" Mukero asked incredulously. "Without you?! What is a fourteen year old girl supposed to do by herself out here in this wasteland?!"
Without a moment's hesitation, as if he had been waiting for this question during the entire conversation, Nasser reached out and tapping the small animal skin book that Mukero always carried in one of her vest's side pockets. In small letters at the top were written the words, 'The Izuru Project'. Nasser smiled. "What if I make it possible for you to pursue your hobby full time?"
"You can help me join the Izuru Project?" Mukero asked skeptically.
"No. But I believe we can do the second best thing." Nasser had that tone in his voice that he always had before announcing a new scheme he was brewing up. "But it just so happens, Byakuya Togami is currently enrolled in Hope Peak's Ultimate Course. And he owes us a favor. Say what you like about the boy, his pride won't allow him to betray somebody he owes a favor. It would reflect badly on his self image, and we both know how much he worships that."
The idea was appealing. Making Byakuya do something he knew the corporation wouldn't approve of out of a sense of duty that came from him being so… arrogant. "I don't want you to die…" She still protested, though she was coming to the terms with the fact that nothing she could do would change his decision.
"Neither do I," Nasser glanced out of a window in his tent at the people milling about outside. "But sometimes, there isn't a good answer. Everything is wrong, and nothing can make it right. At times like that, all we can do is follow what we believe – results be darned. And what I believe in is you.
"I need you to live. Live for me. Live for the others who are willing to lay down their lives. Live for Fenrir. But… most importantly, live for you. Your life is only just beginning, Mukero. You have more potential than you could possibly imagine, and it is your duty to make something great out of your life."
"Great, huh? In a good way, or a bad way?" It would have been an odd question if her father hadn't been the head of the most powerful mercenary group to ever exist.
"That's up to you," Nasser replied with a smirk. "I love you, Mukero, my beloved daughter… but it's time for you to leave home, and make your own way in the world. Just make sure that, at the end, you can still be proud of who you are." As he said that, he set a small micro SD card into her hands. Mukero nodded solemnly, the Despair beginning to swell to a crescendo inside her head.
Mukero threw her arms around her father one last time. "I love you too, Dad." She turned and made her way to the tent's entrance. As she opened it, she made her decision. She knew what she was going to do next. She knew how she was going to spend her life. Turning to glance back in Nasser's direction, she asked. "You couldn't possible enroll one other person into the Ultimate Course, could you?"
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Junko; The Ultimate Chaos
Junko Enoshima hid in her room, door locked, and then barricaded with her dresser. The paint on the walls was peeling off from old age and misuse. There was no wallpaper to speak of, and besides the dresser, the only piece of furniture was her bed. Which was thin, creaky, and had holes in it.
Outside of the room, she could hear her mother and father screaming at each other, swearing and name calling. The sounds of blows being exchanged, and objects breaking, were periodically echoing throughout the house. Home was Hell, and Junko spent as little time as she could there. And even when she did, she spent it locked up in her room, rocking back and forth on her bed.
Junko was fourteen, with long blonde hair and two ponytails. Two hairpins, one of a smiling happy white bear's head, and the other of a black pain with twisted red eyes and a dark smile reminiscent of the Ceshire cat. She wore a short sleeved dress shirt with flowers and rain clouds on it, and a light blue mini-skirt to go along with it. The one thing the girl did own was a vast amount of clothes.
Junko didn't blame her sister for running away. The two of them had never been close. In this hellfire, it was hard enough to take care of yourself. There was no time to worry about anybody else. There was no room for companionship. At the same time, the damnation that had at one time been divided between two children was now fully rained down upon her.
During the week, Junko stayed at school as long as she could into the night, taking as many extra classes, club activities, responsibilities, and cleaning tasks, anything that could possibly let her stay there just a few minutes longer. It was while doing this that she picked up a habit that she would use for stress relief whenever she shut herself away inside of her room. Sewing, and she was a prodigy.
She still remembered the first time she'd created an outfit, four years earlier. She'd worn it home, gotten screamed at for wasting school material on something so frivolous, and had it promptly taken away. For almost a year, she'd never taken the clothes home, only working on them at home. Then, one day, she'd volunteered to be in charge of making clothes for a school play. It had just been another normal day, trying not to go home, but it had changed her life.
The outfits she'd created blew minds. They were the talk of the town, and even made it into The Asahi Shimbun, widely regarded as the most respected daily newspaper in Japan. At that point, her parents had taken an interest. Any hobby that their daughter had with the potential of making money was something they were very interested in.
Over the next few years, she had become a worldwide superstar. She was on the front cover of countless magazines and a guest on many fashion shows. With the massive amount of money she was bringing in, Junko should have been rich. Instead, her parents gambled, drank, and frivoled it away. To them, Junko was nothing more than a passive stream of income. Neither had worked in years.
Which is why Junko had done what she had, despite knowing the beating it would get her. When she'd first started, first gotten an agent, and a lawyer, she'd promised them a share of her earnings if they did something for her. 75% of what she earned was to be invested with interest. 05% went to her agent, and the rest went to her parents. As she was so successful, and her designs were so sought after, such a deal left everybody quite well off. At sixteen, she would be rich, and free.
Until then, life was harsh. Her parents' animosity increased every time a paycheck came in, as they thought about how much more it would have been had they gotten all of it. Their vulgarity and cruelty grew worse and worse, but they stopped physically hitting her. Their current life was far too dependant on the appearance of their 'merchandise'. They couldn't afford to damage it.
Towards the beginning of her time as The Ultimate Fashionista, as she had been termed, inspired by her sister's example, Junko attempted to run away a few times. She'd actually managed to do so… twice. Both times, her parents' had found her. Unlike Mukero, they were very invested in keeping her under their roof, and under their thumb. They'd made this very clear, through severe physical abuse. It had only taken two times to break her spirit, and surrender her freedom.
And, in order to cope with this, Junko had full embraced the twisted depraved pleasure that she found in Despair. And it had tainted her view of the world. No longer did she even imagine freedom outside of the house. Freedom was something that didn't exist in this world. There was nowhere to run.
The world itself was twisted, dark and malevolent. The smiles that people showed were just a façade to hide the truth, that the world was a nightmare one could never wake up from. Deep down in the soul of every living being dwelt Despair. Cruel, twisted, vicious, monstrous, horrific Despair. And if embraced, everybody could, and would, become just as twisted as her parents. Kindness, Love, and Hope… These were nothing were lies.
Thinking about that caused Junko to burst into a fit of wild laughter. The thrill, the thought, the excitement; Junko never felt more alive than when Despair overcame her. There was nothing more lively or thrilling. It would be no exaggeration to say that Junko had a fetish for Despair. And from the moment she woke up, to the moment she went to bed, from the moment of her birth as an 'accidental' baby, until now… she and Despair had been intimately connected.
Fear. Worry. Pain. Loss. Her Hopeless Situation. There were so many different sources for Despair, so many different ways to relish in it. The overwhelming joy washed over her and her laughing intensified drastically. She was lost in a fit of hysteria. The fighting outside the door stopped instantly, and was replaced with complete and total silence. Because, as much as they used and abused Junko, they knew how psychotic she was, and as much as they tried to act otherwise, when Junko went into this mood, it terrified them.
Some people called her the Ultimate Fashionista. Junko Enoshima called herself The Ultimate Despair. But her family had always had a different name for her, one that was never uttered outside the confines of the house. Ultimate Chaos. And whenever this portion of her personality surfaced, they made themselves scarce.
So Junko spent the next several hours in her room, having a rather animated conversation with herself. But this conversation with herself was very unlike the kind a normal person might have. Those were never truly conversations, just debating a couple of different thoughts aloud. Junko had true conversations.
Five personalities lived within Junko, all still consciously Junko, yet possessing different personalities. She had termed them 'royal', 'intellectual', 'depressed', and 'cute'. The fifth one, the one she wore the most often, was 'haunted' – that of a child who had endured great pain and suffering, beyond what any normal human should have to bare, and who was being crushed by the weight.
It took a while for this personality to come back on top again, and push the other four back down into her subconscious. She'd created a mental jail there, to keep them imprisoned. Otherwise, it would be simply impossible to live any semblance of a normal life out in the public. There was only room for one personality, and this was the one the world would most readily accept.
Hours had passed, and there was still silence. That wasn't too surprising. It probably meant her parents were out partying somewhere. Drinking, and laughing off, the scare that they had just received. And already planning cruel ways to mistreat her when they got home. Junko shuddered, but pushed off thoughts of what would happen when her parents got home. She needed to eat something, and this was going to be the safest time to do so. So Junko slowly pushed the dresser away from her door, and pushed it open. What she saw defied explanation.
Blood, bullet holes… dead. Junko's parents lay sprawled out on the ground, blood leaking from bullet holes that had been fired with precision, directly in between the eyes. They both had looks of absolute horror, mixed with fear, shock, and … Despair. That look made Junko feel giddy. She couldn't count the number of times she'd imagined that look on their faces, but it was so much more lovely seeing it for real.
Her mind didn't ask the questions most people's minds would at a time like this. Perhaps because her mind had yet to accept it as reality, or perhaps because Junko's hell hadn't allowed her to be like normal people. She didn't wonder how it had happened, or why it had happened. Didn't even ask who had done it. She was far more focused on the beautiful scene at her feet. "I've never seen a dead body up close before…" Junko whispered quietly to herself, filled with awe, as she began to kneel down and reach for one in order to examine it better.
"Junko, no." The reproachful voice was warm, but firm, like a parent preventing a child from getting into something they shouldn't. But the tone was not the part that caught Junko's attention. The dead bodies at her feet were instantly forgotten as she turned to see Mukero sitting in a chair near the dead bodies, a pistol sitting on the armrest next to her.
"Mukero…?" Junko asked, almost as blown away by her sister's sudden reappearance as she had been by her parents' beauteous death scene. "What… what the heck are you doing here?"
"Something I have wanted to do for years," Mukero replied, her voice hollow. But Junko could see the pleasure hidden in her twin's eyes. She'd always been good at reading it. Still fighting against the pleasure apparently.
A million questions bounced through Junko's mind, but with the dead bodies, and the murder, and the fact that she was still here several hours after the murder took place, made one question far more pertinent than the others. "Ok. But… why are you still here? Wouldn't it make sense to run away after committing murder?"
"Well," Mukero said with a smirk. "I was listening to your rather fascinating conversation, Chaos." Junko smirked slightly. Mukero was the only one who could call Junko Chaos and not make it sound like she was a disturbed monster. "Seriously, though," she stood to her feet and motioned to the death scene. "That's not what I was referring to. I've come to pick you up, Junko. It's time to go."
"Go?" Junko asked in bewilderment. "Go where? Where have you been?"
Mukero replied by slipping one of her gloves off her hand and showing Junko a tattoo of a wolf. "That's where I've been. But that story's over now. Where we are going is far more important. Now hurry up and grab some clothes while I make this death scene an obvious suicide." As she said this, Mukero slipped her hands back into the gloves. Then she proceeded to do exactly what she'd just told Junko not too do. Mess with the crime scene.
"Muke," Junko called to her sister as she began to throw clothes into the only bag that she owned. "The suspense is killing me. Where exactly are we going?"
"Hope's Peak Academy," Mukero declared proudly.
Junko stopped, halfway through pushing her favorite outfit into the bag, the white tie and red tie still visible. "Hope's Peak?" She gave Mukero a look that was overflowing with sarcasm. "Seriously? Mukero, you know I am far more into Despair than Hope. And that is the pinnacle of hope. What in the world makes you think I want to go there? It's frickin Hope's PEAK!"
"Exactly," Mukero replied, an anything but innocent smile crossing her face. "And once you hit the peak, the only way to go is down." Her smile became quite reminiscent of the disturbed bear pin in Junko's hair. "Let's topple it."
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And there you have Chapter 1. Most chapters will probably not be this long, but I felt it was important to place the opening scenes for each of the main characters within the first chapter. Hope you enjoyed, and if you could, please leave a review because your words mean a lot to me. It's nice to hear from people, even when it's super short, and all they say is that they enjoyed what I wrote. ^^ Anyways, peace off.
~ Xanatos Stones