Possibilities

AN: First started this one a year ago, only really figured out what I wanted to do with it recently. Bit late for Halloween, but that's my general MO. Anyway, enjoy.

What IF 8: Mukuro of the Dead

"You know, it's funny. You spend years of your awfully short, painfully limited, ultimately pointless existence planning the end of the world. You go through all the effort of torturing the right people, murdering the insignificant ones, manipulating the fun ones, brainwashing the expendable ones and commissioning a line of killer robot bears from a ten-year-old. You meticulously plan out a death game designed to attack the core of human nature and build elaborate execution machines to drive in just how futile the struggle to win was in the first place. And then, just as you're about to put it all into motion, the zombie apocalypse jumps up and bites you on your perfect backside out of nowhere."

"It is quite frustrating."

"Shut up Mukuro, I'm not done complaining. They're not even the fast kind of zombies, it's the slow shitty shambling kind that I could outrun in my sleep! They'll be mopped up in a week or two tops, but everyone's going to be on high alert for months after the fact waiting for the next disaster, which means I'm going to have to sit on my hands until the planet calms the fuck down so I can wind it back up again, and I've waited long enough damn it!"

"I really think…"

A manicured hand snapped back and caught the soldier across the face, and then it was straight back to Junko leaning out over the edge of the rooftop where she, her sister and the Ultimate Hope had taken refuge, a location chosen purely so that Junko was able to voice her frustrations as directly as possible at the undead hordes pouring out of the Reserve Class building, the lower caste of Hope's Peak the first to be eaten up and repurposed as part of the groaning waves, endlessly searching for more living humans to devour and add to their ranks.

"And what kind of symbolism do you mean to find in attacking a school? Better men than you already covered the angles regarding classism, economics, environmentalism, racism and the ideal that we're all just shambling mindlessly through life on our way to the grave, so what have you got to prove, huh? Zombies used to mean something! You're just an inconvenient plot device getting in the way of my better doomsday scenario!"

"Apparently they signify your inability to endure irony. How droll." The sole male on the rooftop noted. Junko shot Izuru Kamukura a look of bleeding resentment, which quickly flipped into mild indignation as she filtered through to the next stage of grief.

"This isn't despair, this is a mild inconvenience. It'll get wrapped up two to three weeks, we both know that."

She stepped on Mukuro as she made her way over to play with his tie, affecting a cutesy tone.

"But it's not good to keep a girl waiting, you know? We get awful cranky when we don't get what we want. Now, Izuru…"

"No."

"But…"

"No.

"But how about…"

"No."

"We'll get to despair sooner."

A conversation between two Ultimate Analysts was voiced only for the benefit of the girl dusting herself off. In actuality it had been completed in the flash of eye contact, and as Mukuro returned to her sister's side Izuru had vanished. Not that she cared where to, as the old resentment at being utterly outclassed in her field of expertise still burned strong.

"Junko, we should really find a safe place to hole up."

"Ugh, I guess. Let's go to your room, the place is a better armoury than the defence forces and the yakuza combined could hope for. Thank god you've got such a dull hobby."

The horde had yet to breach the main building, and so it was a relatively easy journey to the dormitory and the promised safety, ignored as they were by panicking students and teachers alike. Once there, Mukuro began to prepare. Guns were loaded, grenades fitted into holsters, knives sharpened and balanced. Junko read a finance magazine and checked her stocks in Towa.

"I should really sell now while the going is good, but on the other hand I could sell a couple months from now when Monica goes to work and experience the despair from buying high and being forced to sell low, then doubling down on that despair when the Yen crashes through the floor, making my pitiful earnings even more worthless. Oh, but I could expand my despair portfolio by investing in some struggling up-and-comers, then pulling the rug out at a whim, reducing confidence in them and oh my god Mukuro, do you see the problem with trying to wait out zombies? It's been half an hour and I'm already spouting nonsense!"

She bounced up from the bed and began mindlessly flailing, the older sister dipping around clumsy swings as she finished putting a rifle together, strapped on ammo packs and found a headset. Leaning sideways to avoid a sudden knife attack, she rolled off the chair and bounced to her feet.

"Ready to proceed."

Junko put down a packet of C4, almost looking disappointed at not getting to set off an explosion.

"About time. And for once, you get to bring your drearily one-track mind hobby out in a situation where no-one can complain about the residual damage or how creepy it is for a teenager to murder her way through a crowd without blinking or breaking a sweat or caring at all whatsoever about the trail of dead left in your wake! And while you can usually make a half-hearted justification that you're fighting terrorists or whatever, now you're just going to be tearing apart your former classmates! Good show sis, you're the real salt of the earth! So, where to first?"

"Wherever you wish to go, Junko."

"Ugh, and here I thought you were finally asserting yourself for once. Fine, let's just leave. I'm bored of this whole debacle. We'll head out into the city, I'll get a coffee, you can drink some toilet water, and we can have a good time laughing at the idiots getting gnawed."

"Yes Junko."

"Oh my god, it's like you've already been bitten…"

Junko spun on the spot, masking a perfect 'o' of her mouth with one hand. It couldn't hide the Cheshire-cat grin that spread out, sending a thrill down Mukuro's spine.

"Oh my god, my sister's already been bitten! And I let the zombie arm itself! I've got to get out of here!"

The door to Mukuro's room was ripped open, Junko throwing herself out into the corridor. A tide of flesh lunged at the Ultimate Fashionista, who planted a foot into centre mass of her nearest attacker and kicked up, jumping up onto his shoulders and vanishing out of sight. Mukuro whipped out of the room after her, bringing up both pistols. The horde, unable to reach up and stop the girl sprinting along their backs, went for the one who was still on ground-level, and still within arm's reach.

Bodies hit the ground to the beat of rapid-fire shots, a grim melody that Mukuro danced to. Not a step misplaced, not a bullet wasted. In standard fashion, headshots were the bane of the undead, and she landed them clean over and over again. When the pistols ran dry, she threw out a crescendo of grenades and dove back to the safety of her bedroom. The battle song ended in rapturous fire. Acquiring a new set and another batch of clips, when Mukuro stepped back out into the corridor she found it littered with corpses, rendered immobile once again. Thankfully, Junko was not one of them, but her sister had long since vanished into the academy. And now said academy had been breached. This situation was not ideal. Mukuro needed thinking time, and she did her best thinking on the job. Stepping out into the main foyer found her a classroom to practise in.

Issue number 1: Junko. While Mukuro had confidence in her sister's ability to evade the undead, letting her run around unchecked could cause issues, the most important one being that Mukuro wasn't around to protect her in the event the hordes became more dangerous. In addition, she couldn't keep Junko safe from herself whilst they were separated. But Junko had a significant head start in this version of their game, and it was only extending all the while Mukuro couldn't pin-point her. So where would she go, and how on earth would Mukuro get to her?

Spent cartridges and corpses hit the ground, Mukuro performing a five-point sweep to ensure the foray was clear. Upon confirmation, she turned on her heel and returned to her room for the third time that day. A pair of students ran past her, squeaking out unnoticed gratitude as they bolted for the main doors. It hadn't been her intention to save them, they'd merely been in her thinking area at an opportune time. Lucky them. Luck.

Mukuro paused, shot a zombie on her left flank. Makoto. He was probably just as scared and lost as the rest of the students, if he hadn't been consumed already – Junko first. She was the priority VIP. Taking down another zombie, she stepped into her room and closed the door behind her, shutting off the far-off screams and growls. She'd abandoned her student tablet previously, deeming it of no value in the current situation. Flicking through the menu, she drew up the map of the school. A map, which, for whatever reason, allowed students to locate other students via their own tablets. A major security risk for multiple reasons, but a useful security risk as it stood. Her own face stared back passively from her room, right next to the grinning visage of her sister. Mukuro sighed, and reached an arm under the bed. A bear-trap snapped closed as she withdrew Junko's tablet out. There went her one and only lead. Clearly, Junko didn't want to be found so easily. Well, perhaps if she'd foreseen Mukuro going for the tablet, maybe she'd left a similar clue on the map itself?

She checked the first floor. Second, third, fourth, fifth. The external buildings, the basement, everything. If Junko had left a sign, it wasn't apparent to her. What was apparent was the trio hiding out in one of the second-floor classrooms. Makoto, Leon and Sayaka. Some other students too, but of lesser concern. Well, as Junko was currently missing in action, she could find time to locate and rescue the second VIP.

Pulling a shotgun off the wall, Mukuro cocked it and set about looking for the stairs.

Makoto didn't consider himself as particularly lucky, despite his title. He was always losing his left shoe (only the left one, mind), constantly tripping up and generally getting into trouble. And on a day like today, no-one could be considered fortunate, but at least he and his friends had been inside a classroom when the zombie apocalypse happened, not to mention the students that had burst in to give them a warning before the main horde arrived. They'd let in as many as they could before slamming the doors closed and piling up tables to keep them closed. But broken hands were already punching through the walls and windows, the wood creaking under the weight of bodies. The contained Ultimate students were already spinning plans to leave.

"We can't jump out the window, we're two floors up!"

"We can't hang around, those… things are almost through as it is!"

It had been this way for the better part of the best ten minutes. A plan would get brought up, and then shouted down, only to be replaced by another plan, rinse and repeat. With all the creatives bouncing off of one another, a general consensus wasn't going to be arrived at any time soon. Completely unable to penetrate the conversation, Makoto muddled his way back over to his friends, taking care not to look out the windows as he went. Leon and Sayaka sat near the back of the classroom, both trying to cover up their concern in their own way. Leon's bat was a constant tap-tap-tapping on the floor, while Sayaka was failing to keep a smile on her face.

"Told ya they weren't gonna listen. Upperclassmen are jackasses normally, let alone when they got something to push their weight over."

"I know. I was just hoping that I could get them on the same page."

"You're an optimistic guy Makoto. I'd call that admirable but given how things are shaking out…"

"Can we not talk about this? The groaning is bad enough."

Makoto pulled up a chair.

"It's alright Sayaka. I'm sure help will come soon enough. All we've got to do is hold out."

"Yeah, and what about everyone outside the school? We don't know if those… things are all over town, or the country, or the world! Maybe we're the only ones left at all, and there's no-one coming, and we're just stuck here waiting for them to break through and finish us off and… and… and…"

She jolted up, her chair scattering back. Eyes wide, her chest flitted in shallow breaths as she darted back and forth, looking for something the boys couldn't see.

"I need to get out of here! I need to find them and…"

She went for the window, three other ultimate students grabbing at her to pull her away. Leon pushed in, yelling at the Ultimate Cartographer to back off. The scramble devolved into shouting and shoving, no-one listening, only trying to stop the others from acting. The bedlam was broken by the crunch of splintering wood, and the scream of the Ultimate Volleyball Player as one of the creatures stepped over the threshold, a jagged blade of wood punched clean through its chest.

Silence reigned for a second, and then it returned to what little senses remained, and lunged for the group. One of the Ultimates held it back with a chair, but three more of its brethren were already filling in the gap behind it. The group broke, the angry shouting filled by screams of terror as more of the creatures pushed in. A couple of the braver students held their ground, kicking tables in the path and taking up more chairs, but they were a slim minority. As the panicked stampede pushed back, Makoto found himself crushed up against the wall, pinned by the frantic Ultimate Archaeologist, clutching at whatever he could with tears in his eyes and desperate calls for his mother.

One of the defending students was side-swiped, hitting the floor as three of the monsters fell upon her, already tearing out chunks of flesh before her final breath fled rattling lungs. The collective of students closed their eyes, not wanting to look upon their doom and screaming into the dark.

A crack broke through the chaos. Another one, another one. Rapid-fire punches that rattled the ear, coming in closer, faster. Squashed up behind a crowd of taller figures, Makoto could only see a sliver of what was going on, watching as one of the creatures suddenly gave out, collapsing under its own weight. A second dropped, but everything else was out of view to him. But the screaming had dulled down, replaced by short, sharp footsteps as someone new entered the room. There was another beat of silence, followed by another short, sharp crack and a burning smell.

"I'm looking for this individual. Goes by the name of Makoto Naegi. First year student, usually wears a hoodie. Holds the title of Ultimate Lucky Student."

"Yeah, no shit." Whispered a disbelieving upperclassman.

"Mukuro!"

Makoto pushed his arm out through the gap in the crush, other students parting away to let him out. No longer held in place by the press of bodies, he slumped out and found himself at Mukuro's feet. She helped him stand, dusting something away from his elbow. A barrage of questions immediately swelled up from the peanut gallery.

"Who are you?"

"Are you with the police, the army?"

"Where'd you get all those guns?"

"Did you have to shoot that guy? He could have been saved!"

"Are there more of those things out there?"

"What's going on?"

"Hey!"

The crowd bulked at Makoto's call, standing as he was in front of Mukuro. The tall girl had gone rigid, a far cry from the fluid killer that had saved them a moment ago.

"This is Mukuro Ikusaba, she's the Ultimate Soldier. And… I'm sure she knows exactly what do in this situation, right Mukuro?"

A dusting of pink ripped across her freckles, and she found her voice again.

"My plan… involved only three people at most. The quarters I had in mind will not hold this many, nor would provisions last between a group of this size."

"So you've got nothing?"

"Oi, let her speak!"

Mukuro shifted, slightly galvanised by Leon's support.

"As it stands, the school is overrun. The defences here cannot protect us from creatures within the halls. But moving a group this large outside the premises is unadvisable. I cannot protect all of you, nor should you expect me to."

"So what the hell are we supposed to do then?"

Mukuro considered the question for a moment. Truth be told, there was a defensible place on school grounds that would be large enough for the forty or so surviving students. But exposing the birthplace of Izuru Kamukura could provide detrimental to Junko's future plans. It was supposed to be knowledge contained until the ripe moment of despair, after all.

Then again, Junko would likely also find despair in having a major component of her plans prematurely revealed, especially while she was enduring the current; undead related despair.

"Wait one moment."

She stepped out into the hallway, cleared it with a couple of blasts from her shotgun. She returned, reloading.

"We move in packs of five, heading out to the courtyard. I will take point, you will follow. Remain silent at all time, speaking only to alert me to incoming attacks, and only then if the enemy is pressing towards us. Stragglers are not to be pointed out unless they cannot be moved around. Are we clear?"

"So, we're relying only on you to protect us? Can't you loan out some of your guns?"

"Yeah, quit hogging!"

"Does anyone here actually know how to use one?" Makoto pointed out.

Some embarrassed squirming followed, as the collective realised that they likely weren't the action movie heroes they had briefly imagined themselves as.

"Okay, so Mukuro will take the front, and I'll take the rear."

"No. You should stay with me."

"It's okay Mukuro, I want to help, and make sure no-one gets left behind. I can run pretty fast when I need to, you know."

"Fine. But please call me if danger arises."

Despite her misgivings, moving the other students had been a relatively easy process. Cowed by a combination of fear but supported by Makoto's optimism, no-one had fallen behind, made any unnecessary sounds or broken ranks. The zombies were getting more passive now, no longer frantically chasing after a cacophony of screams from every which way. Even with such a large group, manoeuvring about them had been quite painless.

The reactions to the bunker were as expected, but the shock of the academy's experiments was dulled by the nightmare of the day's events, and so there was less wringing of hands and more action being taken to make the place a touch liveable, if not cosy. The Ultimate Knitter had already set about making rugs and blankets for every room, if only to keep her mind away from the outside. In the midst of the ever-moving students, only one stood still, statuesque as she watched the main door for any signs of trouble. It was unlikely that the zombies could chew through three inches of solid steel, but Mukuro was out of her element in decorating and mobilising people. Once she'd gotten them to safety, most of the students had forgotten she was even around. Which was fine. It just meant that no-one would miss her when she went to go looking for Junko.

"Hey."

Well, maybe one person would miss her, she hoped. Makoto sidled up beside, unblinkingly fearless as usual to all the weapons hanging off her person.

"Hey."

"So, ah, how'd you find about this place anyway? Is it part of your talent?"

"Not exactly. Junko showed me."

"She does seem to know a lot of… interesting things, doesn't she?"

"Indeed."

"I'm surprised she wasn't down here waiting for us."

"She ran off somewhere. I'll head out later, try to find her."

"Wait, alone?"

"My presence is unneeded here. Moreover, it's making some of the other students nervous."

"That's just because they haven't gotten to know you yet. I'm sure that if you take a walk around, they'll remember to thank you if nothing else. Besides, it's getting dark out. I know you want to find Junko, hell, I want to find my family as well, but we won't do them any good wandering around in the dark and getting bitten for our troubles. And…"

He was stopped by a finger to the lips. Mukuro pulled her hand away, looking just as embarrassed to have done it.

"Okay, I can stay. But just for tonight."

Stunned surprise quickly blossomed into a wide smile, and now it was his turn to embarrass as he grabbed her hand and started leading her inside. A warm, heavy scent of soup was already flooding the cold and sterile halls, the students huddled around the pot they'd set up in the main hall. Blankets were being churned out at a rate of knots, Mukuro finding herself layered with three before she'd even had the chance to lay her pistols down. In the quiet under the school, the groans of the undead were dulled by concrete, replaced by pleasant conversation and cautious optimism. In time, they dimmed the lights, and with the Ultimate Tai-Kon-Do Practitioner on night watch (he refused to let Mukuro take the post, citing her hard work throughout the rest of the day), settled down in clusters of tightly clasped hands and hopes for tomorrow.

In the dark, with Makoto sleeping nearby, Mukuro really couldn't see what Junko had been complaining about. This zombie apocalypse hadn't turned out too badly at all.