prompt taken from a dr kink meme but i forgot the original thread gomen xox
ob·ses·sion
/əbˈseSHən/
noun
the state of being obsessed with someone or something.
an idea or thought that continually preoccupies or intrudes on a person's mind.
Enoshima Junko dislikes the norms of conversation. She prefers texting, or sending paper airplanes from across the room, hearts drawn with red lipstick on the wrinkled sheet of paper.
It was the beginning of the day when she notices his radiance. The wicked glow that came from him, friendly aura sabotaging her plans. She had to get to the bottom of this, despair bubbling up inside her stomach frustratedly. She groans, slamming her head against her desk. The teacher looks over at her, everyone turning to see the dilemma.
"Enoshima, would you like to be sent to the principal's office?" He asks, impatiently tapping his ruler against the table. The blonde shakes her head, slumping over her seat and doodling. She thinks about a separate plan, sketching out the basic set up and writing side notes about her feelings in general. Most of the notes were extra blueprints of Monokuma. She would have to see Fujisaki about the coding and wiring for that.
Miss Despair slaps her sister when she prods into the subject. "Mukuro!" She stomps, cheeks aggravatingly pink. "You have no right to dig into my business." Ikusaba is silent, fists clenching at her sides and lower lip bleeding from the teeth digging into it. Enoshima empathetically pouts, kissing each and every one of her freckles.
Laying his head down, a small trail of drool dribbles from his mouth and on his desk. There was a reason why she decided to pick the seat behind him. Slipping out of her chair to find a lost pencil, she makes her way to his desk. Ikusaba gives her a knowing look, a bit of disappointment in her eyes. The blonde's baby blue eyes peek through just a little bit, examining his chubby face and cute nose. His fingers are frail, as if they could break if someone arm wrestled him. She dabs her fingers in the pool of saliva, sticky material coating her fingers. Very important for testing.
Enoshima didn't wash her hands or use her right index finger since she got home.
He opens the door, corners of his mouth raised but one of them twitches nervously. There stood a calm, aloof girl with her bubbly sister, eager to search for something. Come in, he says, and they do; except Enoshima darts straight into his room. I'll go check on her, Ikusaba awkwardly gestures, politely bowing after emitting a sorry afterwards. Boxers and underwear are thrown across the room, scattered upon the floor and hairbrushes tossed into the pile as well. Bringing the cloth to her nose, she sniffs, shuddering at how sticky it is. We have to go, I am very sorry for the abrupt leave, Ikusaba tells him, and he nods, a bit curious to know what happened in there. When he goes to check, everything is spotless, pristine and perfect. It was a mess anyway, but he never got to thank one of the sisters who did it.
"I was conducting a smell test," Enoshima glowers, crossing her arms. "Get off my back."
Perfectly working out her curls, she runs a hand through them, gliding smoothly through. Voluptuous curves being accentuated by the dress, she admires herself in the mirror, light eyeshadow, blush, and mascara applied by herself. Her lip gloss shines in the dim lamp light, face brightening as she smiles. Beauty kills. No, this is not a date, she denies, it's up-close research, despite all the multiple conversations I've had with the subject beforehand.
It's so obvious on how she leans closer into him, scent of vanilla revolving around him. He sips his water quietly, ice clinking in the glass as he brings the brim to his lips. Enoshima's attention fades out. Did you know that his ahoge sometimes bounces with whatever music is playing along? She hasn't, until now.
Ikusaba almost screams when she sees her little sister, staring at the vial filled with a white substance. I'm not a 'Tsundere Doctor', she begins once more, denying everything the older girl suggests, I just needed a sample to see if it would be passed down.
Maizono smiles at him, flirtatious and melodious voice like nails on a chalkboard to the blonde's ears. She walks up to her, wicked grin on her face and the words simply roll off the tongue, reducing her to tears. It's not jealousy, she retorts at the freckled girl, shaking her head. Nobody must tamper with precious evidence, corrupt the data, break the system. It won't be tolerated.
Test results are unidentifiable. A mix of stray hairs, some a dark brown and others a creamy caramel color, are laid out on a piece of white paper for further examination. Pictures, delicately framed and hung on the walls, stare blankly at Enoshima. The golden edges glint, photo finish making its magic. His underwear, clean and still has the freshly washed smell, lay in the corner of the room. Confused thoughts all over, she sits, bringing her knees to her chest. Why, why, why? Why must you not give in? You need Hope, he would say, in that firm voice of his. The curves of his childish face balances it out, though.
The idea rings in her head. Despair Academy. For what is more brilliant than being surrounded by your own friends, entangled by the depths of Despair and hunger? She immediately begins to indite, scribbling out and ripping all pages before.
Folding a paper airplane, she makes her last crease and aims it directly at his ahoge, eagerly waving around. It bounces off of the hair, landing onto the floor. He blinks and picks it up, nervously unfolding it.
"Hey, Naegi-kun~! I have a surprise for you after school. I think you will enjoy it.
Upupu! - You Know Who"