{ Shadows Waiting }
Boredom was not something Mukuro was accustomed to; the emotion held no shackle on her focus and determination, and usually she found some way to keep herself busy. As time passed by, though, Mukuro found what little light remained in her eyes drained every morning when she checked the bathroom mirror. She always told herself she was simply checking for cracks or smudges, instead of looking at the failure in the reflection. Though it was a lie, and she knew it; Mukuro was not the most talented actress. Nonetheless, she carried her load every day, hiding away and avoiding most people for as long as she could.
Of course, she eyed a few interesting people, took note of their actions, of the way they spoke and what cliques they hung around. Although Mukuro attempted to be discreet, she was certain that someone must have noticed her hanging around the Gyaru Socialite so often. Despite never coming within a certain range of feet per her orders, Mukuro would always stay by her side, a few yards away, sitting underneath a tree, at an opposite table, waiting outside the bathroom. Never too far, yet never too close as well.
A strange feeling suraced in her gut a few days prior--Mukuro ignored it. It was the first and last mistake she'd make in a string of unfortunate events to come. When she heard the announcement to make her way to the auditorium, a twitch against her pale, cracked lips signified her distrust. She almost had the intuition to simply turn away, ignore the intercom, and move on. But her sister skipped right along to the auditorium as directed, and Mukuro heaved her shoulders before following along. And, as she went, her stomach churned with uneasiness, the thought of unrest growing in her mind.
At first, when she saw the dual-colored bear, Mukuro scoffed. Her fears were nothing to worry about, and this was most likely an inauguration of some sort. The other students, however, were more easily swayed into discomfort. Mukuro soon found herself nervous as well, though her face remained as emotionless as a rock. She listened with contempt as the bear continued to ramble on, introducing himself as Monokuma, something about staying here forever, and then school being canceled. None of it concerned or frightened her, so why let it bother her? Of course, then he said... those words.
Mutual killing.
Her heartbeat froze for a moment, blood pounding harder to her head and instantly Mukuro reached for the bowie knife she kept on her person, only to realize it wasn't there. She mentally slapped herself for letting it fall out of her posession--an amateur mistake, unbefitting of a soldier such as her. Was it, perhaps, during the blackout? Did someone steal it from her while she was encased in total darkness? Nevermind that, she was facing perilous danger without the company of her trusted knife, one which had saved her life many times before; she told herself to calm down and think, but no sort of plan was coming to mind. She stood in awe, jaw hanging open for a moment, before her eyebrows furrowed in anger.
Before she could do anything about it, Leon stepped up. The fiery boy whom she had observed for awhile kicked the plush toy, rebelling against what he had just finished telling them, and suddenly a knife whizzed through the air so fast she could hardly see it. The boy sidestepped, barely avoiding death.
The bear meant serious business, without a doubt. Mukuro's mouth contorted into a snarl, but no sound came out. She remained silent and observative, two things other than fighting that she was adept at. Then, the electronic ID cards were passed out, and Mukuro quickly turned hers on and glanced over it curiously. She noticed that not only had her sister received one, but everyone else had as well; turning it on revealed her name, social status, age, creepily almost everything about her. Yet, there was also another abnormal thing under her profile.
Poirazi. What did that mean? Was this supposed to be her team name? A team was not something Mukuro was very good at working with, let alone people who didn't know how to hold a gun. After briefly looking over her card, she pocketed it and noticed her wristband had turned an odd purple-ish color. On instinct, Mukuro's gaze turned towards her sister who stood a little bit away, afraid as to what she'll see on her wrist--but she had to make sure. She had to make sure she was on the same team.
Her wristband was not the same color. A swift course of fear pumped through her veins.
They were on opposite teams.
