Chapter Text
Mukuro Ikusaba. Utterly useless. Utterly repulsive.
With her name crowning her with 'corpse' and 'war', it was a surprise that Mukuro was adopted into a noble family of a widowed queen and a fatherless daughter. The widowed queen, a brilliant battle strategist, was often away to protect her ruling. Though she was absent, she was never rude to Mukuro.
Mukuro's newly founded sister, Junko of the Enoshima household, was anything but absent.
Junko was often curious about the teenager, peering from behind the castle's columns to upright following her like a duckling. While Mukuro herself was raised by the castle's servants, Junko was raised by her new older sister more or less. Actually, it was more like Mukuro was being dragged by her sister everywhere. Not like she minded, she enjoyed their time together. From weaving baskets to burying small animals, Mukuro followed Junko without question.
Mukuro was her 'loyal knight'.
And Junko was her 'dearest lady'.
Junko often fantasized about the two of them ruling over not just their kingdom, but the entirety of the world. Although she didn't outwardly express her opinion, the thought of being away from Junko like their mother was painful. It ached throughout her soul and wavered the very strands that made Mukuro. Now that she had taken a sip of Junko, she was horribly thirsty.
The only one that could quell Mukuro's undying protectiveness for her sister was the son of a servant. Makoto Naegi, only a tad younger than the ebony, was nothing special; not in the eyes of Junko, nor to anyone who knew him. But he was refreshing. Makoto was somewhat like her, in the way that he didn't mind anything he was tasked with. On days when Junko was busy, he would often check up on Mukuro since he, 'also had a little sister, so I get it.' Regardless of his duties, Makoto would engulf whatever information she gave.
He wasn't water, like Junko; He was a sponge, like Mukuro. But, he was kind, compassionate, earnest. Qualities Mukuro lacked.
Mukuro was just... empty. Following blindly.
She.. suppose she doesn't mind. Right?
If she minded, how will she be a loyal servant to her sister? The sister who taught her so much, the sister who loved her dearly. If she isn't loyal, then who is Mukuro?
Is she a puppet? Or perhaps a tool?
Or is she completely useless?
Favored guests of Junko lined the outer wall of the ballroom, its grandeur washing everyone in wealth and beauty. Lavish, golden designs decorated the walls, as the ceiling's angels looked down upon the reflective floors. Those attending were dressed in the finest silks and robes, bringing the finest chapel to shame in comparison. However, Mukuro was not one of those attendees.
Mukuro, dressed in masculine attire and situated on the servant's wall, blended right in with her brethren. After all, she is nothing but a loyal servant to Junko. And Junko's word was such.
However, Makoto was less pleased. At the end of the day, Mukuro was a princess, not a commoner nor a servant. It would be uncouth for Mukuro to be treated as such.
Yet, unfortunately for Makoto, Junko's word was scripture.
The night was haste, filled with entertainment and high praise. It was a whirlwind of mindless compliments, dreadfully boring to the center of attention: Junko. Although she had everything she desired, she was selfish, spoiled, and unkind. She wanted to be feared like her mother once was. Junko craved despair that could strangle her, something that truly made her regret being born.
"Doesn't that sound appallingly joyous!"
Mukuro was silent at Junko's proposal. Killing.. everyone here? Junko's friends, important officials, servants... No one would be saved unless both of them were killed. An image flashed in the foux princess's eye, driving a dagger into Makoto's gut and watching the betrayal coating his face. It was so... sickening.
She wanted to throw up at that image. She wanted to throw up at the idea of watching the light from Makoto's eyes drain until he was a husk of a human. Anger clogged her throat..
"Common, please Mukuro? It would make me so happy if we died together!"
Killing the people who raised her.. Killing the people who smiled at her, who were patient with her..
"I want to make Junko happy," Mukuro started, her steel eyes staring at the ballroom from behind the stairs, "But.. but I could never betray my servants like that."
"So your servants are more important than your sister?" Venom laced Junko's words, and her once ironically hopeful stare faltered into jealousy. "They're more important than the person you raised?! More important than your little sister?!"
Junko's voice raised louder and louder, catching the attention of the nearby waiters. Mukuro said nothing in response. What could she say? Both Junko and her surrogate family were important to her, how could she choose one over the other?
".."
Junko dragged Mukuro into the middle of the ballroom, causing the music to fade down at the arrival of their two princesses.
"Hark! Mukuro of the Enoshima household has caused treason against the crown!" Ikusaba was thrown onto the once-cleaned floor, coated in her sweat, "For this, she shall be sentenced with the utmost punishment." Junko's shrill, yet commanding voice echoed the suffocatingly large room. The partygoers muttered between themselves, their judgemental gazes fixed on Mukuro.
Mukuro...
Her eyes gawked at Junko, pain and distrust fell from her wielding tears. Judas's kiss was worse than death. Mukuro would've preferred death over Junko's hatred. God... god she felt so cold. So feverishly cold.
"Mukuro is not treasonous, you are!" A voice called out, before the squeaking of shoes dashed over to Mukuro's side. A blurry vision of brown hair was all that the princess could make out, but it was enough.. "You are undeserving of the crown, Junko! You would sacrifice all of us for your own selfish deads!"
His hand.. it was so much warmer than Mukuro. Warm like a blanket, warmth of protection.
"To kill all of us, you're nothing but a narcissist who was born into a life of luxury! You're not a true princess, Mukuro is! She would never lead her people into a death trap for her own goals!" Hatred flowed from his words, though it wasn't false. Passion strewn from Makoto's heart, captivating the audience's attention.
"That's why Lord Enoshima adopted her! She saw a leader, not someone who would betray their own family!"
"Shut up! Just shut up!" Junko retorted, her hands covering her ears to combat the bitter truth. "You're nothing! Everyone here is nothing! You are all useless!"
.
..
A flash of bright light illuminated the ballroom from behind the frustrated Junko. From the light, a gorgeous enchantress with hair like rubies and skin like crystals embraced Junko. It's floating hair covered their conversation, blinding the onlookers. An extra weight was against Mukuro, a younger girl who was holding desperately onto her brother.
Junko's once sobbing appearance twisted into a deviously wicked one, glaring at Mukuro and Makoto.
"I wish for all but me in this castle to be cursed."
"Your wish is my command, my lord."
The enchantress offered a single rose to Junko, to which the princess pricked her finger on the rose. The rose's magic expelled in a shock wave, the red spell coating the entire castle with misfortune and anger.
That was, before Junko leaned down the Mukuro, easily moving the other siblings away. She grabbed at the princess's chin, staring directly into Mukuro's heartbroken and tear-filled eyes.
"Join me. Join me and you will be spared."
".. I'm sorry, Junko.. I'm so, so sorry!" She pled, her voice hoarse against the alluring twinkle of the sorcery, "I-I can't! I can't choose between my f-families!"
Junko hummed disappointed.
"..Of course. You were always so useless. How unfortunate."
"Enchantress. Make her the most hideous beast. After all, who could love a beast like you other than me?"