{ Use What You Have | peko-the-protector }
There was something about life in Hope’s Peak Academy that reached a standstill once that silly bear made his appearance— dividing the students and giving them reason to distrust one another— insisting that they murder one another. If not, the headmaster would select a random student to be killed. Although that aspect of his conditions proved to be quite concerning, Peko had convinced herself that should Fuyuhiko be picked, she would stand in his place. Or at the very least, go down trying. She hadn’t been able to see him much through the ordeal, having taken to his room more than usual. He had never been the type to go seeking others or making friends, after all.
Despite the fact that she hated leaving him be in such a situation, she had to trust that none of their classmates would do anything much too risky. Being someone who only said things that needed to be said, the swordswoman had plenty of time to analyze her peers— most of the athletes striking her as formidable foes. She would weigh their strengths and weaknesses inwardly, determining whether or not she should keep a discreet eye on them. At this point in time, based on such frequent observation of her peers, it seemed that no one was willing to go so far quite yet.
The dojo, her sanctuary in this school, was her destination. She felt at an incredibly large disadvantage without her shinai. Peko was certainly strong on her own without its’ assistance, of course. No one could expect anything less from a girl tailored to be a tool for the purpose of killing her entire life. But she’d also had a sword by her side, through every encounter. At the very least, she needed to ensure that her strength was up to par to endure any opponents that might attempt to strike.
Instantly alerted to someone else’s presence, her scarlet gaze cut around the dojo until they landed on the cold, grayish blue stare of another. Her eyes narrowed just subtly, eyebrows knitting together as she registered the color of the other’s bracelet. Despite retaining this tidbit of information, she stood her ground and held the girl’s stare, almost as though stubbornly refusing to be the one to look away first.
"What other reason would I be here for, other than to train?" She insisted, crossing her arms lightly across her chest. "I can assure you that I am not intent on murder."
Keeping her unwavering gaze on the silver-haired girl before her, Mukuro angled her head slightly in what one could call curiosity if they must. Her lips pressed into a thin line while she thought and wondered just who this mysterious woman was, and why she reacted so emotionless to Mukuro's presence. Although her stoic expression showed no signs of cracking, Mukuro couldn't help but believe she felt threatened by the girl, and positioned her stance so that she may run--or fight--at the first sign of trouble.
However, that did not seem to be the case. The stranger remained unchanged by her question, simply answered and crossed her arms as though she were irritated by the sudden interrogation. Perhaps she had a reason; after all, it was not Mukuro's job to question her motives nor judge them. Maybe she had asked that question a bit too harshly? The thought lingered in her mind for only a moment before she realized the awkward silence that was ensuing.
She stared and stared into the red abyss of her eyes, blood-red, almost, Mukuro decided, and swallowed a lump in her throat as she continued to stare. It was almost as if taking her eyes off of her would let her win some imaginary competition, and Mukuro decidedly would not let her win. She wanted to believe her reason for never moving her gaze was for the sole fact that she didn't trust her--that she could easily wrap her slender fingers around her throat and suffocate her then and there. But if she wanted to kill her, she probably would have done so more quietly, and not alerted her to her presence before.
Still, Mukuro didn't trust her. She was far from trusting this mysterious stranger. Nothing this girl said would change her mind about anything, especially with words alone. After what felt like an eternity, Mukuro finally glanced away from the girl and turned her back towards her, walking towards the center of the room and standing there for a moment, gaze on her own two feet, before turning around and facing her once more.
"You're here to train, hm?" she said abruptly, "Well.... I am... here to train as well."
Between pauses, Mukuro brushed a sliver of black hair away from her gray eyes, tucked it behind her ear, and strengthened her stance. "Would you care to... spar with me, then? As long as we have a few rules in order, of course..."
Her speaking was spaced, breathy, and almost as if she were trying to find the correct words, running them through her head to make sure it sounded right, before saying them. And then, when she finally did speak, she went on for awhile, mumbling to herself under her breath, occasionally. "I'd imagine 'no murdering' would be an... obvious one. No weapons, either. This is, of course, if you'd accept my proposal..."









