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Matsuda opened the door and the first thing that hit him was the familiar stench of blood.
His stomach roiled hard and he had to grip the doorframe in order to prevent himself from just slamming the door closed again, heading down the hall, and washing his hands of this madness. Her madness. The lights were off but in the electric glow coming in from behind him, he could see the scene illuminated like a road at dusk.
The hotel room had probably been pretty decent at some point, but now there was blood on the wall…the bed-sheets…Whenever he took a breath in, the metallic smell would layer itself over his tongue and he felt as if he was choking on steel.
He had never liked gore. A surgeon he may have been, but Matsuda had never liked the sight.
Something—no someone shifted there on the bed, one painted nail lifting lazily to point at him. It glinted, scarlet and deadly, like a snake poised to strike.
“Yasuke-kun. Shut the door, will you?”
Matsuda closed his eyes and exhaled hard before doing as she instructed. They were immediately plunged into pitch-blackness, but in just a few moments, she clicked on a small lamp and he was granted vision again. It only tossed out a meager, golden circle that primarily lit up the smiling face of Junko Enoshima, who was reclining on that bloodied mattress as if there wasn’t a dead body just on the floor to her right.
“What have you done?” He growled, low and dangerous. His grip on the knob tightened and became painful.
“What makes you think I’ve done anything?”
“You’re not the one dead on the floor.”
“Upupu!”
“Enoshima…You’ve really fucked up now…”
“Aw. Yasuke-kun.” Junko pouted, reclining back with a sigh. “You never call me ‘Junko’ anymore. C’mon, let me hear such a sweet word—“
“Shut your filthy trap!”
“—Just this once!”
Matsuda didn’t step away from the door, trying to control his breathing. No one got under his skin like this girl did, so quickly and so effectively. “Why did you do it?” His tone was even and low, but hard as iron.
“He got a little too pushy for my tastes.” She stared up at the ceiling, bored now.
“What were you even doing here?”
Her eyes went wide as a doe’s. “Yasuke-kun! Were you worried about me? Did you wonder why I hadn’t come home despite it being sooo late? Did it fill your heart with Despair, to think something might have happened to me and you might never find me in this great, big city?!”
He spat out his response. “No. I know howler monkeys like to screech but I need you to scrape together what brain-cells you have left and answer my question. What were you doing here?”
“Your inquiry is warranted, I suppose. I have no choice but to tell you. I entered this motel room tonight with a young man I met at a party, but it seems he had acquired the wrong idea.” Junko’s chest heaved with raucous laughter as her tongue lolled out, still flat on her back, making slashing gestures with her hands suddenly. “So I killed him! Cleaved the bastard’s throat straight open! Why would he imagine for a moment that I would sleep with a person like him? Oh, the Despair in his eyes…!”
Ugly chortles poured from her throat and Matsuda resisted the urge to throttle her, or worse. He dipped his head, shoulders trembling with fury.
“I made sure he knew! Knew that he wouldn’t amount to anything to me or any girl! Upupu!”
“What is wrong with you?” Matsuda said quietly.
Junko paused. “Wrong?”
“You’ve killed this man. He’s dead. Enoshima, I—“ He silenced himself when he saw the slow smile spreading across her face, inching along like the lazy tread of a spider.
“Oh, Yasuke-kun…My Despair is yours…!? So romantic!”
“I’m not Despairing, you mindless insect.”
Junko stood up all at once, sauntering towards him until she was pressing him into the surface of the door. He clenched his teeth against the reek of blood and perfume she brought with her, against the murmur of her lips at her throat. Out of that ring of light, all he could see was her vague silhouette. The curve of her mouth, the glints of pale blue…
“You’re the only one good enough for me,” she whispered, eyes slipping closed.
Matsuda moved to push her away—the reaction was a bit delayed—but she twined her arms around his neck and purred like a cat, meeting his gaze.
“Enoshima…”
She ignored his warning, touching their lips together in a surprisingly chaste kiss. Junko chuckled, deep in her throat. “And are you going to let them catch me? Or are you going to help me clean up this mess?”
Her alluring stare almost seemed to hypnotize him. Matsuda thought she would have looked so normal and sane right about now, had it not been for the subject matter she was so casually discussing. He swallowed hard, dry, clicking his tongue in annoyance.
“…Get off of me.”
Junko must have seen something she liked, because she did in fact let go, and she danced over to the body with a gleeful spring in her step. “Always so dependable, Yasuke-kun!” She twirled, arms spread out, like a performer on stage. “This world…it doesn’t stand a chance!”
Fists clenched, he avoided her eyes, and Junko just continued to laugh.