The heavens were bleeding.

Vermillion sky, grey clouds, fuming smog, crumbling together to create a beautiful harmony of despair. Buildings were ruined or ruining. Children were singing. Screams were heard as often as angry car horns on a Monday morning.

Junko Enoshima basked in the glory of it all. Such beautiful despair, something she could hold on to and cherish and love and all but hope for more. A golden era of tragedy.

Enoshima stood atop a building that used to be an apartment complex, resting her arms against the hand railing. The evening sunlight was obscured by a building a bit to the right of her view. She grinned. It would be so lovely if she just fell over onto the pavement below. Crack. A little splatter.

She looked to her side where a man sat on the ledge of the building, legs dangling off. His dark hair fell down his shoulders and onto the roof floor. He stared out at the horizon, dull and blank, mumbling to himself.

Kamukura didn't care much for the sight. Enoshima woefully despised it. So full of hope, oh so utterly despairing.

In a way, she almost liked it. That feeling of hopeless despair.

"What're you mumbling?" She asked Kamukura, causing him to stop whatever he was doing. She cocked her head to the side, only slightly annoyed. "If you're talking to me, you're gonna have to speak louder than that."