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There was a knock on her door. Mukuro looked at it askance. Who would be knocking on her door well after nightfall? The higher-ups in Future Foundation - most of which were Hope's Peak alumni and staff that had managed to survive the tragedy - had made it abundantly clear that they wanted nothing to do with her. She was Ultimate Despair to them, plain and simple. That's why she had two guards outside her door at any given time, and why she wasn't allowed to leave her room aside from set times.
The person on the other side didn't give Mukuro a chance to answer the door, as it was pulled open as she stood there, staring at it. Kyoko was the one standing there. That made more sense. Kyoko talked to her the most, followed closely by Makoto. Evidently, crossing the despair-ruined wasteland did wonders for trust. Mukuro was tempted to try and repeat the event, but she couldn't put anyone else at risk like that. Things only worked out alright because Kyoko had grown competent.
She marched into the room like she owned it, slamming the door shut behind her. Mukuro didn't claim to be good at reading moods, but she'd this emotional state before. Yes, Junko had acted the exact same way when her Killing Game began crumbling around her. Frustration, then. Or vexation - whichever was more fitting. Either way, Kyoko looked ready to throttle someone, and Mukuro smartly didn't bother commenting on her entrance or poor mood.
"Bed," Kyoko said lowly. Mukuro blinked before the order processed in her mind, and before she knew it, she was sliding under the covers of the modest full-sized bed she'd been supplied with. There was nothing to delay her, as she'd already changed into sleeping clothes hours ago. She didn't have clearance to go and use the on-site gym, no matter how her body itched to burn and sweat, otherwise she'd be there instead. Kyoko stripped herself of unnecessary clothing at a clipped pace, pulling off her suit jacket, shoes and bra before she, too, laid down on Mukuro's bed.
Kyoko shifted fitfully in the sheets, legs entangling with Mukuro's while her arm came around to hold Mukuro's waist. When she got settled, something between a huff and a grunt left her nose, not at all like her content breathing from when they were traveling. It was still hard to process the idea of Kyoko willingly engaging in such casual touching with anyone, let alone her, but Mukuro was getting there. She laid her hand over Kyoko's where it rested over her stomach.
"What happened?" she asked, hushed. There had to have been something. The last time Kyoko pulled a stunt like this, it was right after they'd made it to the Future Foundation outpost, before they were moved to a proper facility for observation. She'd just gotten off of a very heated call with her superiors, and spent quite a while telling Mukuro how short-sighted and narrowminded they were being. Mukuro could see the logic in their actions, though, however disadvantageous they were to her in particular.
"If I have to spent another day doing nothing but fetching coffee and passing along messages, I'm going to strangle someone," Kyoko hissed. "There wasn't a moment's rest. I had to run all day. I'd be fine with that if the work I was doing was important, but I wasn't doing anything worthwhile either. An intern would be tasked to handle more work." She leaned in, tucking her face between Mukuro's shoulder blades. "I think too many of them just liked ordering me around."
Mukuro said nothing. That kind of busy work wasn't anything she had a problem with. When she was running with Fenrir, there were all sorts of menial tasks of varying importance that they were all told to do. Not a single member questioned the orders they were given, not unless they were desperate for corporal punishment or worse. As for Kyoko's theory that they enjoyed ordering her around, well... Mukuro had been ordered around her entire life. It didn't bother her. Still, she thought she could understand what Kyoko was getting at.
"When I finally got my break, they wouldn't allow me into the firing range," Kyoko continued. "Apparently, someone's seen fit to ban me from everything but the front doors to the main building and the living quarters. Everywhere else, and my keycard no longer works. It was probably Munakata, trying to teach me a lesson by stripping my freedom down to the bare minimum. He always has to have the last word."
Now that was something Mukuro could relate to more. It would be great to go to the firing range and get her sharpshooting skills back up to snuff. It'd been too long since she'd held a gun. Junko deemed them too useful during the Killing Game and 'boring' for being able to cause instantaneous deaths, and she'd been on her own after that ship sunk. What she wouldn't give to hold an automatic rifle, or even just a pistol.
"Makoto can only keep me so sane throughout the day. He's sure it'll let up soon, but I know the higher ups better than he does," Kyoko muttered. Venom didn't coat her words, but instead a despondent acceptance. "They're not as forgiving as he is. Anything that isn't aligned with hope is immediately considered to be on the side of despair. It's caused countless pointless skirmishes and too many wasted supplies." She shook her head, letting out a sigh and pulling Mukuro closer. "It's all so frustrating, but at this point, there's nothing I can do about it."
And that was the worst part, wasn't it? It wasn't the punishment that Kyoko had issue with, not really. Mukuro knew her well enough to understand that much, at least. What was truly bothering Kyoko was the fact she'd been barred from meaningful participation. No filling out documents or working on high-clearance projects, no training for the next major fight. It had to have been driving Kyoko up a wall, just like it was beginning to gnaw at Mukuro.
Kyoko's talking petered out, the room falling into silence. Her breaths became steadily even, and Mukuro could pinpoint the exact moment Kyoko fell asleep because her head and limbs went limp. Mukuro closed her eyes, sinking into that darkness alongside her. She'd missed Kyoko's warmth in her bed the last few weeks. Those long nights taking shelter wherever they could had stuck in her mind more than she anticipated.
When Mukuro was roused from sleep, it was to the sound of banging on the door. She slept light, but found her head foggy as she blinked her eyes open. Who was it now? Days of barely being acknowledged with scant glances and grunts, and it was now of all times when someone wanted to speak to her? When her mind was disoriented with sleep and Kyoko's chest radiated warmth against her back like a hot water bottle? The intruder wouldn't be kept waiting; the door flew open.
"What have you done with her, you-" the voice cut itself short. Mukuro barely turned her head, just enough to make out the shape of one of her guards standing in the doorway, gun in hand. The guard's face was rapidly shifting from rage to blank shock the longer she stood there. Mukuro had half a mind to get out of bed and shoo her before she woke Kyoko, but Kyoko woke up to the slightest of movements. Unfortunately, Mukuro felt Kyoko stirring behind her anyway, arm tightening around her waist.
"Get out," Kyoko grumbled in a sleep-roughed voice. The guard audibly gulped, putting her weapon away. She tried to sputter something out, but Kyoko shifted further and the guard was cowed into silence. "Didn't you understand me the first time? Get. Out," Kyoko growled. "Now." The guard nodded shakily, raising her hands to show that they were empty as she backed her way out of the room. The door closed, and Kyoko let out a sigh, burying her face into Mukuro's back again. Mukuro's face was hot. Remind her never to piss off Kyoko in the morning.