Mistress of Despair

7.4K 206 82
                                    

Age - 4 1/4

She had seen the somewhat starved looking girl sitting alone at a sand-pit. Beckoning her sister she approached the lonely girl and invited her to play.

Unknown to the world around her, Miss Junko Enoshima always had a plan. Before her genius and talents had manifested her plans were not as nearly as sinister but one thing she had since birth; her manipulative prowess.

She invited the lonely girl to build a sand castle with her and the pair had spent weeks bonding and creating a masterpiece far beyond their years.

On the last day before its completion she had stood over it and loosely held a wooden baseball bat. With the moonlight glinting in her eyes she slammed the weapon over the defenseless structure.

Under the cover of night she hid all of the evidence and prepped her lines. With Mukuro watching the door of the orphanage her friend lived at so she knew when to jump into her act. When Mukuro gave her the signal she had sat on the ground and fake sobbed.

When she heard the light footsteps she could barely contain her glee. She had turned to face the figure and saw (Y/N) dashing towards her with a look of horror on her face. The young girl embraced the manipulation and promised that everything would be okay.

Junko told her false tale and (Y/N) had believed her.

Then Junko heard a sentence she wasn't expecting: Nobody is allowed to make you cry. Her eyes had widened before a large smile graced her face, the faux tears still draining from her eyes.

And, like the skilled manipulatior she was, knew exactly what to say, T-Thank you, (Y/N)... I trust you.

Truthfully? She did trust the her. She knew that the girl who ran to hug her would most likely die protecting her.

Her only question was why. Why her? Why would this young girl be so willing to give up so much of her life? Why would she be okay and submissive?

But then, a small voice in the back of her head spoke.

For the Despair...

The girl had pushed the thought from her mind but she could not stray her curiosity.

Despair, huh? She had pondered to herself as she sat alone, tapping a blue pen against her lips.

Time skip - 12 years later

The pen was dried. The blood was soaking the concrete. She held the umbrella over her head and smiled to the girl her hand was clasped with.

"Ah, I didn't expect rain!" Her partner had giggled as a corpse fell besides them.

Junko had looked at her partner, a satisfied smile on her face, "Oh this? This is a drizzle. The storm will hit soon."

Her partner squeezed her hand, "God, I love it when you talk all analytical."

Junko looked at the girl, curiosity burning in her eyes.

Every situation.

Every person.

Every thing.

All was a boring useless mess.

But her?

The dull light in her (eye color) eyes.

The way she bit her lips when nervous.

The way she liked to play with Junko's hair.

Her willingness into her schemes.

Her knowing - and not caring - that she had been manipulated when they were younger.

The beating in Junko's chest.

The way Junko found her eyes scanning every room for her.

The way Junko had to wipe the sweat off her hands when she talked about something so loved.

Junko didn't understand this new feeling.

She had asked her, 'friend,' - Kamukura Izuru - and he had described the feeling as love.

Love?

No. Queens of Despair don't fall in love. They kill their love interests.

But... Junko was conflicted.

She knew what great despair was be caused to both of them if she killed (Y/N) but... she didn't want to say goodbye?

Was this true despair? The fear of losing someone you would die for?

Would Junko die for her?

She was the Queen of Despair.

She could predict any scenario in front of her.

But...

She couldn't predict her.

Words count: 647

Junko Enoshima X Female! ReaderWhere stories live. Discover now