What Rules Cannot Hold (A Naekusaba story)

Summer Camp II

After taking a shower, washing her hair, applying the set of lotions given by Junko; hair-drying, a bit of combing thereafter, donning a fresh set of clothes, bearing in mind Junko's advice; fixing some strands of hair, since she did not hair dry after changing clothes, as Junko specifically told her to do; then, daubing her face somewhat ineptly with some makeup and slashing her eyebrows with eyeliner, Mukuro concluded that, in accordance with her sister's wishes, she was presentable, or, at least, less likely to anger her sister, though the look didn't enchant her, nor did it make it easier to understand why Junko thought that wearing a denim jacket over her bowtied shirt with a skirt would change anything. Apparently, Makoto would prefer to see her dressed this way, though here Junko was surely dissimulating.

Mukuro cleaned the mess of dressing up, looking in the morning from the corner of her eye before facing it. Perhaps she did like it. It was a shift in personhood actualised by a change in outfit. Her sister was right - of course; her doubt was unreasonable - Junko knew what she was doing.

''Mukuro!'' Someone shouted, joyfully knocking on the door.

She opened: it was Kaede.

''Hi! Kyoko wants everyone to gather on the football pitch, that's if you aren't busy!''

''Thank you. I'll come in a moment.''

''By the way, I love your jacket,'' Kaede commented before waving her goodbye.

As promised, Mukuro soon arrived at the pitch with others, seeing no signs of her sister: a cause of relief and inward gnawing, though she felt much more at ease after spotting Makoto in one of the students' groups that formed; he seemed to be looking for something quite intently, so Mukuro continued to stand where she was, hoping for him to spot her; it was only after Kyoko started speaking in a megaphone, diverting her attention completely, that she felt someone's hand on her shoulder.

''Hey,'' Makoto greeted her and awkwardly recoiled his hand. ''S-Sorry, anyway, are you alright?''

''Y-Yes, I think. . .'' She lowered her gaze. ''You were looking at me?''

''Before? Yeah, that was because I wanted to ask you s-something,'' his eyes, unbeknownst to her, wandered all over her appearance, but he was too nervous to focus on the details. ''I know that we just arrived here, but I thought that we could. . . spend some time together, you know? It was kinda difficult to do that at Hope's Peak, so I thought. . .'' What did he think: he didn't know himself; an unfortunate phrase that built needless anticipation.

''I wouldn't mind,'' Mukuro said; underestimating the heat, joy, and hope fizzing and sprouting within her. But she managed to momentarily oppose the dumbing emotions and muttered: ''I was thinking about that, too.''

''Really?'' His eyes and heart lighted; neither could he compose himself. Kyoko told everyone to quiet down. ''I-I. . . I will, I mean we, will speak later!" He stuttered, smiled at her and returned to his group of friends; regretting his prompt departure greatly.

Kyoko, in a tone more authoritative than her father, explained the need for volunteers in the camp; the vacancies consisting mostly of cooking, cleaning, and some administrative roles Few were interested; those who were swung to the other side of the pendulum and volunteered with excessive wilfulness.