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Clack clack.
Mukuro parries each hit of Peko's bamboo sword without even so much as blinking. The way she moves is completely effortless, like she has never done anything else in her life. Seamless, smooth motions, running water along its meant path.
Clack clack.
Her body moves in perfect symphony with her own wooden sword, as if she was simply made to hold it. Her hands forged to wrap around swords and guns.
Clack clack.
Peko takes a sharp breath. Unsheathes a small knife from her belt, which gets immediately countered by a hunting knife.
Clack.
Metal against metal, and both women stop.
"It seems I cannot surpass you today either." Peko drops both sword and knife. They fall to the tatami mats with a dull thud.
Mukuro scoffs and does the same. "Rare to find someone who can take me on. I am grateful I got the chance."
Peko runs the back of her hand over her forehead. They've been training inside the school's dojo nearly every day for the past half year, yet neither ever seems to be able to surpass the other. Its not competitive at all, and yet Peko knows both of them always see the challenge in their mock fights.
Mukuro stretches her arms, before she shakes her wrists. Peko spots countless scars on her skin. Mostly healed, but Mukuro is worn. Worn like she is herself, but Peko learned how to layer those injuries. A bodyguard can't make themselves seem weak. Mukuro wears her scars with pride, while Peko still shrinks away from them.
"Y'know, you don't have to prove anything to me." Mukuro rolls her shoulders. "It's like, if you play chess against a robot. What do you expect to happen?"
"What do you mean?"
Mukuro frowns. "I don't have to sugarcoat it, I guess, you're though. We are hardly human, ain't we? We've been formed into weapons. Beating me wouldn't bring you any sense of acomplishment." Mukuro averts her eyes, fumbling with her fingers. "This is literally all I'm good for. And to pretend I'm my sis when she can't be bothered tto attend class."
"You two look nothing alike." Peko grabs her glasses from the small table on the side.
"Eh?"
Mukuro freezes when Peko rests her hands against each side of her face. "You may be twins, but you look nothing alike. Your face, your eyes-"
"Contacts", Mukuro interjects.
"-your freckles. You have to wear a wig and heavy make up and I can still tell it's you."
"That so?" Mukuro blinks. Her gaze is glossy, like she's seeing something Peko can't.
"We've been training for so long, I can tell your steps apart from anyone on school grounds."
Mukuro slowly reaches up her hands and wraps them around Peko's wrists. "That's a first. I tend to be invisible to others. Even my own sister, unless there's something she can use me for. But what am I telling you, ain't you just the same? Puppet for the Kuzuryu clan."
Peko flinches. She bites her lower lip and looks away. "Young master has never treated me badly", she insists, "What the clan decided for us when we were children is not any of his fault."
"And yet." Mukuro shrugs. "We do whatever they tell us. We'd kill for our family without thinking twice. We aren't any better than machines."
"That is not true." Peko shakes her head. "Young master wants me to be a human being. Your sister is nothing short of cruel."
"I dunno what to tell you, but I'd say the same about Kuzuryu if you asked me. You're just not asking." Mukuro lets go, and Peko drops her hands to her sides.
"What does it mean, then?", she continues, "To be human instead of a weapon?"
Mukuro looks up to the ceiling. Peko always mourns when she wears the contacts, hides away behind make up and pretends to be someone she isn't. She's so pretty. Her short hair and her light purple eyes are far prettier than the copy of Junko she tries to play
"You're asking the wrong gal", Mukuro laughs bitterly, "Should ask a normal person for that. Maybe someone smarter. Harukawa sounds right."
"I am asking you", Peko returns, "Because you're my friend."
Mukuro looks over her shoulder. There's a distinct look on her face. Something sad. Like she misses something she never had. "You flatter me, but it's not that deep."
"It is, to me."
Mukuro smiles, huffing to herself. "You really insist to salvage me, huh?"
"I can sure try. I mean, you do seek me out time and time again too. Why are you playing chess against a robot?"
"Parried. I like it." Mukuro waves her hand. "Right, okay. What do normal people do? Date? Grab coffee together?"
"That does sound like a start to me."
"Hm?"
Peko blushes. She did just say that out loud, did she? Mukuro laughs softly and steps over to her, taking one of her silver braids between her hands. Peko shivers under the touch.
"You could have anyone better than a broken thing like me", Mukuro mumbles.
Peko nods solemnly. "As could you. Will you, however? Or is my company enjoyable enough?"
"Point taken." Mukuro lets go of her braid. "But be alert, I might just kill that Kuzuryu guy."
"Do not, please."
Mukuro laughs. Her eyes crinkle and the sun falls so beautifully onto her face through the window that Peko thinks her own face is on fire just looking at her. She quickly bends down to collect the dropped practise weapons, handing Mukuro back her hunting knife.
"Well, what'cha gonna get?"
Peko stashes the tools back onto the shelf. "Excuse me?"
"Coffee! You asked me on a date, already forgot? Junko is out partying or somethin'. You're in luck."
Everything inside Peko screams to reel back. She can't have this. It's not what a bodyguard does.
But Fuyuhiko wants her to be a person outside of her contract. Live and make friends. Maybe more than that.
"Surprise me?"
Mukuro beams and signs her peace. "Leave it to me, I know the best place and we can get stuff for free! Perks of having a famous sis." She turns around, and Peko follows her to the changing room.
A date, huh? That's what people do. Maybe it's time they stop seeing themselves as mere tools for use.