Lucky - Naekusaba

Chapter Eleven: When She Got Revenge

(A/N: Holy shit I'm tired.)

MUKURO

Junko was cruel. I'd known that all my life. She'd tried to kill me more times than I could count, but she would rarely attack me with her bare hands. I didn't think she would attack without intent to kill. Three days after my first trip to Makoto's house, I realized how wrong I was.

I came back to the hotel to find Junko's room in total disarray. Things were thrown everywhere, the walls had claw marks, and Junko herself looked like she hadn't slept in a week. "Mukuro," she hissed when she saw me. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you've been causing me?"

After all of Makoto's kindness, her words hurt, but I knew I deserved it. "I'm sorry... what did I do?"
In a flash too quick for a normal person to see, Junko was on me, pinning me to the ground. "Why do you keep saving that worthless piece of trash? Why do you care about him so much?" Her expression changed from menacing to cutesy in an instant. "Do you wuv him more than me, your pwecious wittle sister?"

I stared up at her, thinking as fast as I could. I'd gone directly against Junko and saved Makoto from her. Multiple times, so I couldn't tell her I acted on instinct or something. I searched for an excuse and couldn't find one.

Her face contorted back into a snarl. "Yeah, that's what I thought, you trashy skank!" She wound up and hit me full in the face. I didn't try to dodge. I wasn't so sure that Junko was in the right anymore, but I still knew that I deserved this. She shoved me to the ground, kicked me in the side. "You're siding with that hope-loving bastard! Damn it, damn it, damn it!" With each word, she landed another kick. My body felt like it was tearing itself apart. Who knew high heels hurt so much?
I braced myself for another hit, but it didn't come. Instead Junko collapsed onto her bed. "Ugh... I'm too fucking tired for this. Beating you up isn't as much fun when you're not trying to dodge."

My eyes welled up with tears. "I'm sorry, Junko..."

"Then again," she continued as if she hadn't heard me, "it's frustrating as hell when you are trying to dodge, because you're too damn good at your talent! Ugh, you're so fucking disappointing."
I didn't know if she was trying to upset me or if she was just venting, but it still made me wince. "I... I'm sorry..." I whispered again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

"Do you think I want to know how you feel, you whiny bitch?" she screamed. "Ugh, you are so fucking disappointing!"

I gingerly got to my feet, glancing over at Junko timidly. To my surprise, tears were starting to form in her eyes. Quiet, subtle tears that were completely unlike her typical melodramatic, obnoxiously loud fake sobs. I'd never seen her like this before, and guilt started to course through me. How could I have done this to my own sister? How could I have taken someone I loved so far away from despair?

She glanced at me, looking exhausted. "What? Gonna gawk at your helpless charity case of a sister? Ha, you wish. Fucking bitch."

I couldn't just leave her there. But what was I supposed to do? I didn't know how I was supposed to help, and I knew if I tried I would just end up making everything worse. So I walked out of the room, hating myself all the while.

I thought that would be the end of it. I thought she'd vented enough, got everything out of her system, and would be back to her normal self by the next day. That was certainly what it seemed like at the time. And the next day, when I came to her hotel room to check on her again after school, everything seemed fine. Her room was back to normal, the dark circles under her eyes were gone, and she was back to her usual peppy, hyper-dysfunctional self. I was about to leave and head back to campus for target practice when I noticed that her expression had changed into a fierce glare.