Her heart is sinking and it’s jumping. Her throat is dry and she’s scared but she’s…. She’s happy. It’s Junko. She’s here. Even in her head - it’s more than before. It’s more than she had. It’s enough.
”- oh, yeah, there you are. I knew they were guilt hallucinations. That’s nice, I guess.”
A supervillian laugh is a bit silly, isn’t it Mukuro-san?
Naegi gave a light chuckle, shooting her a friendly smile. Even if this wasn’t the Mukuro he had on his mind as of late, it was still nice to see her.
That is, until she said that other thing.
What’s that even supposed to mean? I mean, we’re friends, aren’t we?
Her arms cross, and her glare is legendary. At no point in this exchange does she consider that he’s not dead. No, no, this is some kind of weird guilt conscience breakdown. Obviously.
”- do we look like friends? Is this how friends talk to one another? Do friends murder friends and burn their schools to the ground?”
Um… I got a lot more followers than I was expecting, and I can’t do 16 whole starters…. So if anyone wants one, can you like or reply to this post or… Something? So I know? I’m also just about to turn on my ask if anyone wants to…. RP through that………………………… Okay thanks bye
“Aaahhhh!!!" Mikan yells, grabbing her wrist and pulling, terror gripping her throat even harder than Mukuro ever could. "A-are you not Junko E-Enoshima-san?"
"I-I’m so sorry, I thought, I j-just thought," her voice had dwindled down into a terrified whisper. "You look like her, and I t-thought…"
Oh, no… this was a mistake. Speaking to her was a mistake. Mikan desperately racked her brain, looking for a name, a word, anything that would connect her to the right name for this girl, the girl she had incorrectly assumed was Junko.
Knowing better than to say her name, she spoke again, this time picking her words carefully.
"I-I made an e-erroneous assumption, and f-for that, I beg for your f-forgiveness… Mukuro-san…"
"How could I be Junko Enoshima," she hisses - spits - at the girl, "when my sister has been dead for three years? How could I be Junko Fucking Enoshima when Junko Enoshima lies rotting in her grave, huh? Tell me that, little nurse, tell me e-fucking-xactly I am supposed to be someone who is just bones and - and - and memories?"
Careful. Careful. She knows what lies down the road that starts with her letting her hands follow through on her furious heartbeat.
Mukuro drops the nurse.
”- yeah. Yeah, you’re sorry. You’d better fucking be sorry. Now. Those… Fuck. Those shots. The ones that aren’t ttanus. Tell me about those.”
"You know, that dye’s doing some serious damage to your brain. If she’s dead, then, wouldn’t it make even more sense to disguise yourself as her? Though there are striking differences; for example, your freckles. My files have noted that Enoshima doesn’t have any. Ergo, your disguise may be to throw off suspicion, or perhaps, desire to imitate her."
She’d buffered enough while the other spoke. If she hadn’t there would be plenty of empty spaces to counterattack, and knowing her enemy’s affiliations, that just wouldn’t do.
"Of course they would. I’m not expecting to leave alive— I’m going against a Super High-School Level Soldier… isn’t that right? No matter how many layers of makeup you have on, you can’t hide anything. Anything… but your strategies, of course. That’s probably the critical difference between you… and your sister."
Okay, while she may have been built at least five years ago, that still didn’t mean she was an infant.
"…. I’m not. This is how I look now. I mean - seriously. Have you been living under a rock? What kind of spy are you? How can you not know? Do you need a quick recap of the history of the world before we do the bit where I kick your head in?"
Her fingers twitch. They twitch again. She’s fully ready to murder this kid, but.
"I’m not trying to hide myself. I’ve never tried to hide myself."
Besides. It’s not like any of this matters.
"I don’t know what facts you’ve been given, but. I haven’t been known by that title since Hope’s Peak burned to the ground."
Woah, that’s a lot of people! And a lot… of drafts I’m just going to…. Go…..Over here…. And cry…………….
“You question my health?”
Voice pours from him like pure molten gold, deliberating and prying—his tone is heavy and rumbles when he speaks, to issue tremors across the land as if he commanded the Earth to rattle. Hands remain at his sides in tense stance; fingers press to the seams of his pants, formal and presentable, he is the one-man barricade, with Pompeii’s destruction brewing within him.
If it’s conflict she longs for, he’ll give her the fury of Carthage.
“I have God’s might in my fist; ‘tis all I need to walk on glory,” says he, eyes narrowing—slightly. “With such divine assistance, whatever may come shall fall upon experiencing such protection.”
"I’m sorry, was that not clear?"
It’s not conflict she looks for; it’s not anything, not any more. If his voice is molten gold, hers is lead, is gunpowder, is nothing pretty at all. Her hands flick a strand of her hair away, her hands slide into her pocket, her hands do not yank out a gun and shoot him through the face. Which is always a good conversation opener.
"So - god. God is why you’re not starving. Right."
"What?? Oh my god-Here. Here, let’s just." She sighed loudly, reaching up to undo the horns and scratching her head.
"Is this better? By the way, how would Ibuki get shot? Y-you wouldn’t shoot her, right?!"
Mukuro smiles, big and vicious.
"Way better! And - yeah. Yeah, I would. Mukuro would, I guess, in your words."
"That kinda contradicts you, I think. If I were a spy, I wouldn’t be deaf. — Hah? ‘Take me down’? So that means that you are who I’m thinking of, and if that’s so… then… you pretty much have me pegged. Identity-wise; you don’t know who I am, yet… you know what I’m meant to do, in a way. That means others have been sent… And never came back. … I’m from one of many foundations. The rest, you can figure out on your own."
She tucks back strands of flaxen rose behind her ear, digits combing down to then twirl its ends.
"Lovingly… is an overstatement, miss. As for that, then— you probably got hair dye… because your hair clearly isn’t that long. 80% wrong or not, you’re still a bottle blonde, and that makes your hair a bit more fake than 80%."
Obviously, in a game, if she were asked such an important question, she would have at least three options; and three lives, too. Answer wrong, and… she’d get blasted. So… who would she be disguised as?
→ Maizono Sayaka
→ Sonia Nevermind
→ Enoshima Junko
【 B R E A K ! 】
"… Enoshima Junko, right?"
”- yeah, no. I don’t know where your intel is from, but I’m not Enoshima Junko, nor am I disguised as her. Have some fucking respect for the dead, why don’t you, little miss spy?”
Wow. This was a fun conversation. Look at how much fun she’s having! So much fun. Wow.
"There have been so many of you, and none of them with such shitty info! And they’ve all died. Even the ones with gold-plated facts, with fucking maps of my weaknesses, with guns built to kill just me. And. They. All. Died."
How dare she. How dare this trashy useless little infant talk to her like that. How fucking dare she.
"U-Um," she hesitated, beginning to panic. "J-Junko, Ah, if you want an injection, I’m sure I could find something…!! I-I don’t know if a t-tetanus shot would be appropriate, you’re only due for a tetanus shot every ten years, but I guess I could give you a Td or TdaP shot if you were determined to get an i-injection…"
The stress was beginning to show in her whole body instead of just the surprised look on her face. She had seized up, her arms pulled up over her chest, covering her ribcage, her left hand up by her neck, ready to shield her face if she had to.
Visually cowering, she gulped, waiting for her reply.
"What did you just call me."
"Did you just call me Junko? You just called me Junko."
Mukuro fists her hand into the nurse’s collar, too fast for Tsumiki to stop her, and yanks her forward. She doesn’t lift her off her feet because that’s stupid, but there’s the same furious threat present either way. If Tsumiki is shaking, then so is she - but for wildly different reasns. Nobody has called her Junko in years.
"I’m going to give you one chance to apologize for that, and then I’m going to rip your stupid tongue straight out of your jaw."