Work Text
If Mukuro were asked to describe herself, she’d think of her sister first. She’d think about the best parts of her sister: her charisma, her confidence, and her determination. Then, she would compare those qualities to herself and come to the unflattering truth. Because Mukuro isn’t charismatic, confident, or determined. She’s aloof, self-conscious, and hesitant. She is everything Junko isn’t. Junko is unblemished skin painted in pretty pink blush and glossy red lipstick; strawberry blond hair tied back to reveal pale blue eyes; perfectly manicured red nails, sharpened to a fine point. Junko has always been the more appealing one of the two of them.That’s why this plan of Junko’s comes as such a surprise to her. Because it’s not exactly simple—or without risk. The fact that her sister would be even the slightest bit comfortable with Mukuro masquerading as her… It’s bewildering, to say the least. But it’s more convenient for Junko. This way, she can manipulate the killing game from behind the scenes. It’s much safer for Junko. …And Mukuro? Well, it doesn’t matter what she thinks. She doesn’t have any particular opinion on the matter. Fenrir strongly discouraged individuality in any regard, and despite her departure from the military, Mukuro still feels pressured to conform, to skulk in the shadows and remain an unobtrusive presence. As Junko continues to explain her plan, Mukuro is assaulted with a sudden realization: she is the only one who Junko can rely on to do this. Mukuro knows Junko better than anyone; she knows her better than she knows herself. She’s intimately familiar with every piece of her sibling’s soul, every dark corner in the winding labyrinth of her mind. If there’s anyone who can pull this off, it’s her. Mukuro feels an undignified shiver of satisfaction run along her skin at the thought that she’s important, even valued to be relied upon so heavily. Junko almost seems to sense this, because she only smiles and reaches out, pinching Mukuro’s cheek unnecessarily hard. Mukuro has long grown out of flinching, especially when it comes to her sister. Junko rolls her eyes at her lack of a reaction and begins outlining the steps they need to take to ensure Mukuro is a passable Junko Enoshima. It’s a lot more difficult than Mukuro anticipates it to be. First, the sheer amount of clothing and makeup is stifling; Mukuro can hardly breathe properly with everything she’s wearing: the strawberry blonde wig; far more facial makeup than she’s used to; long fake nails; and the uncomfortable high heels. Even after her sister has dolled her up, there’s still one glaring difference. “You look constipated,” Junko says with an amused laugh, studying her form. Mukuro resolutely pretends not to feel nervous at her sister’s intense scrutiny, as she’s immediately made aware of each and every flaw that sets her apart from Junko herself. Fortunately, Junko only sighs theatrically. “That’s the best it’s going to get. But now you need to be me.”“I know,” Mukuro says.Junko stares at her for a long moment. The silence is unnerving and Mukuro resists the urge to shrivel under her sister’s attentive gaze. Eventually, after some time, Junko starts engaging her in fake conversation—attempting to teach her how to answer questions the same way she would. It’s a bit strange, but Mukuro slowly gets the hang of it.The next few days are spent learning how to maintain proper posture and outer appearance. Mukuro has known Junko for her entire life, but loving Junko as a sister is a lot different than becoming her, in every sense of the word. There’s a reason why the two of them are never commonly recognized as sisters: they’re just far too different. Junko has always been the popular younger sister—and Mukuro the mature older sister. Finally, it’s time to enact Junko’s plan. She erases all of the students’ memories and places them around the school, before calling an assembly and appearing as Monokuma: the “headmaster” of the academy and enforcer of the killing game. Mukuro joins the students and listens to the assembly, feeling rather uncomfortable after the brown-haired boy’s rather perceptive questions. She clenches her fists at her sides, her long nails piercing into the skin of her palms and anchoring her to reality. Unsurprisingly, the students need a little motivation before they resort to murdering one another. After her sister creates motive videos for each of them—depicting various family members and friends getting hurt—the students’ desire to return to the outside world heightens. It isn’t long before the first murder occurs, and Sayaka Maizuno becomes their first victim. As Mukuro stands in the gymnasium with her classmates the next morning, she runs through the plan in her mind: violate one of the rules and force Monokuma to enact a punishment, thereby eliminating “Junko” from the game. Mukuro takes a measured breath. In due time, she will return to Junko’s side (where she belongs). She has complete and total faith in her sister—and trusts that Junko has everything accounted for. All Mukuro has to do is perform the role she was given. She repeats these thoughts to herself, getting ready to start an argument that escalates into a physical confrontation. Her heart racing in her chest, Mukuro starts to throw a fuss. She complains about the class trial, threatening not to participate. She starts to really commit to throwing a fake hissy fit… until Monokuma says something that gives her pause. “Don’t be so selfish!” Her blood runs cold. She knows Junko is just trying to provoke her to make their fight seem realistic. But something about that remark hits far too close to home. It scrapes at something in her chest, creating an uneasy feeling in her stomach that makes her nauseous. Selfish. Selfish. Mukuro is selfish. Mukuro is selfish. She’s selfish for masquerading as her sister, selfish for even attempting to emulate her. Selfish for following Junko’s orders perfectly; for cloaking herself in her sister’s image for every waking hour of the day. She has been selfish. Mukuro feels a foreign feeling prickling along her skin. It’s anger: white-hot, furious anger. She tries to tell herself that this is for show, that it’s just a demonstration meant to intimidate the students and provide her a convenient escape. But even the insinuation that she is selfish digs deep to her core. Mukuro is many things, but she is not selfish. Mukuro has always placed her sister first, before everything and everyone. She has risked life and limb for nothing more than keeping her sister happy. “You’re the one being selfish!” Mukuro argues, genuine frustration seeping into her voice. Because it’s Junko who always makes the decisions: Junko who exerts control over every single detail. It’s Junko who falls asleep peacefully at night—Junko who avoids the remorse her actions have incited. “You really want to get out of here?” Monokuma cackles, a high-pitched snicker. Mukuro’s fist clenches at her side again as she struggles to keep herself calm. “Just try and get through me!” The bear runs at her at a laughably slow pace. It’s terribly easy for Mukuro to reach out and kick Monnokuma to the ground, nearly crushing it under her heel. She keeps the bear pinned to the ground, a brief bolt of satisfaction running through her as she stares at the bear’s blank expression. A stunned silence dominates the air of the gymnasium, alongside the hum of the fluorescent lighting above. For a few moments, the quiet remains—until Monokuma giggles. The sound sends a shiver down Mukuro’s spine. This is all part of the plan, she reminds herself. Junko has to make it look convincing, after all. “Violence against the Headmaster is strictly prohibited,” the bear chirps. Mukuro pretends to look surprised, summoning a shocked expression. She has done her job—has followed Junko’s instructions seamlessly. It won’t be long before she reunites with her sister once more. “To me, Godly Spears of Gungnir!” Monokuma screeches. It can’t be more than a few seconds before the spears make themselves known, yet to Mukuro, it lasts a lifetime. That single moment—filled with indecision, dread, and frustration—drags on for eternity. She’s trapped in that ever-familiar hopeless cycle once more: she did exactly as her sister asked, yet it was still not enough. It’s never enough; nothing she can do will ever be enough for Junko Enoshima. Suddenly, Mukuro is jolted back into reality—and overtaken with indescribable pain. She looks down, only to find spears impaling her at every angle. She chokes on her breath and lurches forward, her hands rising in a futile effort to stop the assault. Her ears are ringing; her classmates are looking on with horror. There’s a resounding confusion echoing through Mukuro’s ears as she tries to comprehend what just happened. Junko… lied. Her sister lied to her. Through Mukuro’s quickly blurring vision, she stares down at the black-and-white bear. The grin on its unmoving face mocks her. Was this her sister’s plan from the beginning? Was Mukuro always fated to be a casualty? Everything hurts. “Why….? Why me…?” Mukuro chokes out, a metallic taste settling on her tongue as blood trickles down her chin. But, deep down, Mukuro knows why: she was selfish to think her life belonged to anyone other than Junko Enoshima. (“Don’t be so selfish!” Junko croons at her, her sharp nails dragging down Mukuro’s cheek. She’s laughing, and Mukuro is crying.) She was foolish to think Junko’s love for her would come before her desire for despair. Through a raspy breath, she almost sees Monokuma’s red eye wink at her. Then Mukuro’s balance gives out and her knees crumple beneath her, leaving her a broken marionette, a puppet without a puppet master. Junko’s gleeful laughter is the last thing Mukuro registers before shadows overtake her vision.