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Waking up felt like what Peko imagined being born felt like. And, perhaps, she was being born again, in a sense, more even than the rest of her cohorts. Sure they all fell into despair and are being given a new life to spread the ultimate hope, but for Peko, it runs deeper.For the first time in her life, she suddenly is a person. Since she was a baby she was a tool for the yakuza- a tool for her young master’s desires. Kind as he was to encourage her freedom, she refused to deny her place in life. As a Remanent of Despair she was a tool to Junko, the Ultimate Despair, despite telling herself she was still her young master’s tool.Waking up now, she was no longer a tool. No longer the sword and the shield of her young master, no longer a symbol of hope as the Ultimate Swordswoman, no longer the hand of despair, no longer belonging to anyone else. She was, here and now, Peko Pekoyama.Whoever that may be.“Peko-Peko!” a voice cheered from behind her, arms wrapping around her chest and breaking her out of her thoughts.“Ah, Ibuki,” Peko nods politely. “How are you?”“Super duper good!” she smiles brightly, and Peko can barely see any trace of the Remanent of Despair Ibuki once was. When she looks in the mirror at her own reflection, she can see traces of darkness lingering in her red eyes. But Ibuki… Ibuki is pure again.And maybe it’s because falling into despair wasn’t unfamiliar to Peko. She had killed before, her earliest hit was when she was only five, a test by her young master’s father. If she was already so consumed by the darkness, it was no wonder she fell so easily into Junko’s trap. And no wonder why coming out of it was harder for her than the others, it seemed.She wondered if any of the others were haunted by what they did before the Neo World Project. None of them seemed to be. Even Fuyuhiko seemed to have moved on, working directly with Hajime and the others to create a new sense of hope.“Peko is frowning again,” Ibuki whines, pressing the tips of her fingers against the edges of Peko’s mouth, forcing a smile. “Ibuki does not like that.”“I’m fine,” Peko responds, words mumbled around the awkward stretch of her lips. “Just thinking.”“Hmm…” Ibuki drops her arms but continues her overly analytical stare at Peko. “Okie dokie then! Guess Peko-Peko will just have to keep her secrets.”“It’s not really a secret,” Peko relents, the quirk in the corner of her lips coming natural now. “I was just thinking about the future. Where we go from here and all that.”“I see,” Ibuki gasps out, though Peko figures she’s just playing along and isn’t really following the conversation. “Well, I think Teruteru is planning on making a French cuisine for dinner.”Peko smiles; she doesn’t know if Ibuki is joking, most likely she is at this point, but she is successful in cheering up her mood. “Thanks, Ibuki.”“No problem, Peko-Peko!” Ibuki cheers, waving her pointer fingers around excitedly. “Hey, why don’t we eat dinner together? And we can hold hands!”“Sure,” Peko nods thoughtfully. “That sounds nice.”She doesn’t know what this reality is, but perhaps being her own person isn’t so bad.