Hers
Disclaimer: Sayonara, Zetsubou Sensei belongs to Koji Kumeta. Not me. No copyright infringement is intended.
Content Notes: Implied non-consensual sexual contact, graphic violence.
Three years since graduation. Five years since her particular form of "deep love" chose him to focus on. Five years. Five years and she can't get enough of him. His soft black hair. His even softer, creamy skin. His slender body. All of it was hers. Hers. No matter how much that creepy hikkikomori desired him. No matter how much that psychopathic perfectionist wanted to marry him. No matter if one half of that crazy bitch's split personality was in love with him. No matter how hell-bent that corrupt fangirl was on setting him up with another guy. No matter how creepy the alarmingly good-natured Fuura Kafuka was becoming with regards to him. He was hers. There was no way around it. Itoshiki Nozomu belongs to Tsunetsuki Matoi. That would never change. Now that she had him, she'd never let him go.
"Matoi..." his voice is soft, quiet- pleading. He shifts underneath her. She can't tell if he's trying to get closer or get away. And frankly, she doesn't care. It doesn't matter. He's not leaving. He cannot leave. She will not allow it. But when his movements become more insistent, she leans down and presses a soft kiss to the middle of his back. He makes another quiet little sound in the back of his throat, and she turns that soft kiss into a harsh bite. He cries out.
"Matoi! Please!"
"Please what, darling?" she asks breathily, shifting her weight so that she's pinning him down even more fully. He wheezes, probably a side effect of having 115 pounds of weight suddenly center itself on his lower back. He doesn't answer right away, obviously pondering what to say. She thinks he's trying to come up with the best way to tell her he loves her. What else could it possibly be?
When he finally speaks, however, it's not what she expects. "Please, Matoi, I want... I want to go home. Please, let me go. Majiru- I have to- no one is there to watch him, please, let me go!"
"NO!" she screams, pressing her weight down even more heavily. "You can't leave. You can't ever leave. I love you. You're mine. I love you, you belong to me!"
He says something, but she can't hear it, not with the blood pounding in her ears. He wants to leave? Why? She won't let him go. He belongs to her. She has to think of a way to make sure that he doesn't forget it. She has to make sure that he doesn't forget he belongs to Tsunetsuki Matoi. Her eyes fall on a box-cutter carelessly discarded on the bedside table. She can't remember what it is doing there, but at the moment, she doesn't care. All she can think about is how perfect it is.
She doesn't think about her actions as she grabs the blade. She doesn't flinch when she presses it to his skin- not even when he screams. She stays focused on her task until it's completed.
He is sobbing. She doesn't care. She only wipes away the blood with his top. Something else to make sure he stays there. He won't go out in public looking like he'd just murdered someone. Not even if the blood on his shirt was his own. He's too prideful for that. When she's cleaned him as best as she could, she looks down and admires her work.
Cut into that silky, perfect skin is her name. Matoi.
Now no matter where he goes he will always bear her name. Proof that he belongs to her.
/END
Author's Comments:Originally wrote this for Kink Bingo over the summer. I almost never write het, so this was quite a challenge for me and I think it turned out way creepier than I intended, but eh, it works with the prompt (possession/marking).