Author's Note: Behold, I am alive! Sadly, I have no excuse, and can only offer my apologies as to the delay. I have recently come to a decision: Feathers will be split into two parts: this tale, detailing the summer semester and focusing on Naegi and Mukuro before Hope's Peak, and a sequel that will explore how the first game proper will be changed by this "what if."

That being said, I am going to be releasing a number of smaller slice-of-life chapters like this one in the coming weeks, since I'm waiting for the upcoming July Danganronpa anime that will explore more of the school life of the Remnants of Despair pre-Despair.

I will admit, that I have no idea if such a mixed martial arts form as the one that Mukuro professes to practicing even could exist, since I just looked up the most brutal martial arts and picked some to cobble togther, but I figure if anyone could do so, it would be the Ultimate Solider!

So, I hope you enjoy!

Mukuro stared at her friend with some concern: Makoto's face was weary and dark bags stood prominently beneath his eyes. She chewed slightly at her lower lip, worrying it gently between her teeth; asides from apparent fatigue, Makoto did not seem to have any other symptoms of illness... but still...

The mental debate was quickly solved for the dark-haired teen as Makoto must have noticed her expression and, covering a yawn, he reassured his new friend.

"I'm just tired, that's all," he told Mukuro, his tongue darting out from between his lips to sample his mint chocolate chip ice cream cone. "Things at home have been... hectic... lately," he said, his expression becoming peculiar; the Ultimate Soldier raised a brow at her friend and upcoming schoolmate. Makoto sighed, and his head thumped softly to the wrought-iron table of the sidewalk ice cream cafe they were sitting at. "It's your fault, you know," his voice came, muffled and slightly despondent.

"I don't understand," Mukuro answered, taking a bite of her own rocky road cone, letting the differing flavors melt across her tongue; "I don't recall doing anything that would disrupt your home life," she answered.

Makoto lifted his head enough to give the girl across from as severe and mean an expression as he was capable—which wasn't very much, Mukuro noted. "You're kind of Komaru's new hero and idol—" this was stated in the same matter-of-fact tone of voice that someone might declare that water is wet or the sun is hot—"and now she wants to be a 'ninja' just like big sister Mukuro," he said deadpan.

Mukuro felt the slightest bit of warmth flush her cheeks at the reminder that Makoto's younger sister had almost immediately adopted her as her older sister. Actually, it seemed like the entire Naegi family had seemed to immediately take the former mercenary under their wind as a sort of surrogate daughter. Mukuro still wasn't sure how to feel about this fact... it was strange. Yes, she had been comrades with the other mercenaries in Fenrir, and they had all been a "family" of sorts, but being accepted into an actual family was... different... It wasn't bad, though...

Covering her discomfort by taking another bite of her ice cream, Mukuro went with tried and true option of stating the obvious. "I'm not a ninja," she refuted.

"You flipped me over your shoulder like a sack of potato and skewered those cans with the same ease as most people tie their shoes," Makoto said (Mukuro debated on informing the boy that his shoes were actually untied at this very moment, but thought it best not to) "your ninja-like enough," he stated, daring her to argue.

Mukuro didn't argue the point any further. "Yes, but I haven't done anything else at your house since then."

The Ultimate Soldier still wasn't certain how the older woman had bypassed all of her thought processes and extracted the promise immediately...

"Yes, but Mukuro has taken up to emulating you..." Makoto grumbled, and the immediately looked up, wide-eyed and waving his hands in supplication, nearly sending his ice creaming flying. "Not that anything is wrong with that!" he effused. "You're amazing! I mean... That is..." now stumbling over his tongue as his own words reached his ears, Mukuro hid her smile behind her frozen delight and simply quirked a brow at him, causing the poor boy to nearly have a conniption. The scene was so strange and so very Makoto that Mukuro found herself letting out a small laugh as she reassured her friend. "I understand what you meant."

Makoto, face burning with mortification, couldn't help but marvel at the small peel of laughter that escaped Mukuro's lips. It had been the first time he had ever heard his friend laugh, and he immediately considered that his prior moment of foot-in-mouth and the resulting embarrassment was more than worth it to be able to hear that.

Though he wasn't consciously aware of it, at that moment, he made a resolute vow to himself to make certain that Mukuro Ikusaba's future was filled with more smiling and laughter.

"Yes... well..." he said, taking a rather vicious bite out of his ice cream—and immediately regretting it as he was struck down by the gods of ice cream for his hubris, in the form of the dreaded "brain freeze."

Mukuro was just able to wrap her fingers around the lower part of Makoto's cone and hold it in the same fist as hers, and used her free hand to lean over the table and pat the smaller boy on the back, for lack of any other option of comfort to her friend. She was sure that the two of them must have made quite the sight that summer afternoon, and undoubtedly some passing-by individuals probably thought the two of them were on a date of some sort.

(That thought made such a confused whirl of emotions arise in Mukuro that she immediately squashed it in the same method she disregarded all distractions when she was on a battlefield. )

Makoto eventually recovered and after retrieving his ice cream—but not before staring at it as if it were a live, hissing king cobra—continued his explanation. "Anyway, Mukuro's taken to trying to replicate your 'ninja-ness'—with me as her 'volunteer'..." Makoto recited this in such a longsuffering tone of voice, that immediately images of Komaru in a bullet proof vest and a stereotypical black ninja outfit filled her mind, complete with Makoto being punted about like a pin ball. The Ultimate Soldier wasn't even aware she was smiling until Makoto glared at her and hissed, "It's not funny!"

Unfortunately—and Mukuro did feel quite bad about this—this set out the flood gate of mirth that set her shoulders shaking with barely suppressed glee; her pale complexion flushed bright as snickers escaped her lips, and, at one point, she was thinks she might have let out a small snort. All the while, Makoto sat and glowered at her, his arms crossed and his face severe (though he would have undoubtedly been taken more seriously were he not clutching a mint ice cream cone in one fist, which was slowly melting over said hand.) When she glanced up and saw him, Mukuro simply collapsed into an even deeper fit of giggles.

If she were to be honest, Mukuro was quite alarmed at her spontaneous bout of laughter—it wasn't even as if the mental image of Makoto being send flying end-over-end by a ninja-clad sister was that funny, to be honest. But, having found herself called to or "confidently" wandering past the Naegi residence in the days since, Mukuro found that smiles were coming far more freer than they had in... well, years!

This was very dangerous, she realized. Junko was going to be livid! Even so, Mukuro found herself clutching her abdomen as she was brought low by her own mirth.

"I'm serious, Mukuro!" Makoto protested. "She's been sharpening pencils and tossing them about like their knives! And she keeps waking me up in the middle of the night with 'ambushes!' I haven't gotten a decent night's sleep since you showed her that demonstration—three days ago!" The Ultimate Lucky Student knew that his protests were currently falling upon death ears, and as annoyed as he was, he found he didn't really mind all that much, watching how lively Mukuro appeared at the moment. He took note of the smattering of freckles that dusted across her face, normally too fair to be seen, but now in stark contrast to her flushed skin. "You just snorted," Makoto said viciously.

Her chest heaving, Mukuro fought to get her laughter under control and glared at Makoto. "No. I did not," she said simply.

"Yes you did."

Mukuro raised her ice cream cone up. "You've seen what I can do with knives—want to see what I can do with the pointy end of this ice cream cone?" she asked in a conversational tone. Makoto gulped, images of himself lying dead face down on the table, with the cone impaled into his temple filling his mind; he shook his head mutely.

"But seriously, Komaru flipped me over her shoulder once," he confessed, wincing at the memory of the shock of unexpected pain. Mukuro raised her eyebrows in shock at that tidbit of knowledge. "Well, it less of a 'flip' and more of a heaving sort of motion, but still—Komaru is freakishly strong for such a slight girl..." he pouted.

Mukuro refrained from commenting that she wasn't surprised that his sister had been able to flip Makoto over her shoulder as she had.

"And now she's pestering mom and dad to learn Judo," he grumbled, his face screwing up into an unpleasant grimace of all the bruises that were no doubt in his future. The smaller brunette blinked and looked up at his friend. "What exactly do you do?" he asked. "I mean, you flipped me over your shoulder," he elaborated.

"Ah," Mukuro said, taking a bite of her rocky road. "It's actually a form of mixed martial arts composed of different styles I learned from the various members of Fenrir," she explained. "While I do have elements and moves from Judo incorporated, they're more of an afterthought to be honest," she confessed.

Makoto blinked. "What is it made up of then?" he asked, scratching his cheek idly.

"It's designed to incapacitate and remove my opponent from a fight in the most efficient way possible," Mukuro recited, her back straightening as she began to list off the elements of personal style. "Primarily, it is based around the style of Krag Mava with almost equal elements of Muay Thai for versatility. Defensively, while I do know some Judo for when I need to incapacitate a person, I tend to rely more on the elements I incorporated from the Russian fighting style of Sambo."

Makoto could only nod his head, seeing as he thought he might have heard of Muay Thai once in passing, but it all sounded very impressive. (the Ultimate Luck Student would later look up videos of the mentioned martial art forms on the internet later that evening, immediately wish he had not, and then made two solemn vows to himself—One: that Komaru never be allowed to find out what her "Big Sis'" actually practiced instead of Judo; and two: never, under any circumstances, ever, EVER piss Mukuro off.)

"Actually," Mukuro said thoughtfully. "Komaru might be very well suited to Judo," she mused. "It might be a good idea if she takes it up," she advised, taking another bite of her ice cream.

"Fantastic," Makoto sighed, hanging his head. "And I had dared to briefly hope that my future did not consist of large portions of my body injured and bruised," he said forlornly.

Suddenly, unbidden, Junko's (and her's, she guessed) plan entered her mind—alongside the image of Makoto, his body... so much blood...

"Mukuro! You're ice cream!" Makoto suddenly cried out, alarmed. Pulled suddenly from her grisly mental portent, Mukuro looked down to realize that her hand was now clenched into a white-knuckled fist, having crushed her ice cream and gotten the limb covered in it.

"Oh," she said, staring at her fist. Slowly, she relaxed her hand, having to force it come undone. "It's fine," she said, grabbing a napkin and cleaning her soiled and chilled hand. Abruptly, she rose from her seat. "Come on," she demanded, her tone and voice brooking no argument, in full Ultimate Soldier mode now.

"W-where are going?" Makoto asked, hurrying after her, dropping his ice cream in his haste but paying no mind to it.

"You need to learn to defend yourself as well," she said in a tone of such utter finality that it dared the very gods themselves to challenge her.

Makoto could only follow after his friend as she walked with determination towards his house, with the feeling that his summer was going to be very interesting not only for himself, but his entire family.

And though neither teen knew it just then, but this afternoon's outing for ice cream would have unforeseen and long lasting effects on a future that was still so very uncertain as Lady Luck's dice continued to tumble across the board of fate, and in a barren heart, a sapling of hope still so very young, struggled to pierce the frozen earth and reach towards a brighter future.