Chapter Text
Mikan had developed a routine over the course of the past few months.
Upon returning home from work each day, she would set down her bags, change out of her uniform, and wait patiently on the living room couch. Within the hour, Junko would come home, and Mikan would immediately throw herself at her, sobbing and venting about the hardships that always seemed to happen every day. Usually it was cruel patients, sometimes it was creepy coworkers. No matter which it was, both would reduce her to a sputtering, crying mess the instant she knew that she was in the presence of someone who would comfort her, and the only person who fit that description was Junko.
Junko would console her with reassuring words and loving acts of affection, generally in the form of stroking her hair or kissing her forehead, and eventually, Mikan would calm down and be okay again—at least, as okay as Mikan Tsumiki ever was. She was a mess of a human being and everyone around her was keenly aware of that fact, herself especially. In spite of all that, though, she could end each and every day content with her existence, because at least there was one person who forgave her, and she loved that woman with all her heart.
After Mikan was soothed, what the two did together was up in the air. Sometimes they would sit and simply enjoy each other’s company, other times they would make love, and other times they would go out and engage in whatever activities Junko felt like that night. She was as unpredictable as she was loving, after all. While Mikan did not always approve of or enjoy the sorts of things her girlfriend liked to partake in, she always went along with it anyway. After all, what sort of girlfriend would she be if she were to repay Junko’s kindness with criticism? If she ever were to do such a thing, she would surely come to hate herself even more than she already did.
Tonight was a night like any other, crying into her beloved’s shoulder and sitting on her lap, Junko’s hands tracing idly up and down her back. As usual, she’s been subjected to a slew of relentless insults from people she was only trying to help today, and who else would listen to her woes but Junko?
“A-And then he said that I’d be better off spreading my legs for money instead of b-being a nurse! I d-don’t understand. I’ve never done anything to them, but they’re all still so m-mean!”
“Do you want me to kill that guy for you?” Junko asked. Any other girl would have taken it as a silly question from a protective partner, but Mikan knew Junko was dead serious. “Because I will totally kill that guy for you. Just say the word and bam, Mukuro takes care of it. She can make it look like an accident, too.”
“N-No!” Mikan cried, even though she knew Junko would only do such a thing if explicitly asked. “You d-don’t have to do that! I just wish people weren’t so cruel…b-but I guess that’s too much to ask for, isn’t it?”
Junko did not respond with words, only shaking her head and holding Mikan even tighter in her arms. Mikan always liked it when Junko held her. She felt safe, loved, wanted, none of which she ever felt when they were apart. Junko acted as a security blanket, her presence alone a reminder that there was at least one person in the world who cherished her.
“You know, you really shouldn’t let people just walk all over you. Like, you totally have it in you to tell them off. I’ve seen you when you’re angry.”
Mikan knew she was about as threatening as a slightly unnerved lamb when at her angriest, which only ever happened once or twice. There was no use in trying to protect herself, it was far easier to let people do what they wanted with her. She shook her head before resting it on Junko’s shoulder and sniffled.
“That would just make things worse…I’m okay with it, though.” For the first time since returning home, a small smile began to grow on Mikan’s face. “I can endure anything as long as I have you to come home to. It d-doesn’t matter what anyone does to me, because you’ll always be here.”
Wiping away the tears from her face, Mikan closed her eyes and pressed her lips gently into her beloved’s, savoring the familiar sweet taste of her lipstick and melting even further into her embrace. For as much as she always enjoyed the sensation of kissing Junko, however, something was off this time. Junko was always sensual in the way she kissed back, almost carnal, even. She would handle Mikan like putty in her hands and that was exactly how she liked it. Now, instead of showing Mikan how much she really loved her, she sat passively as she was kissed. She didn’t even so much as close her eyes.
A million different thoughts began running through Mikan’s head at once. Had she done something wrong? Was Junko upset with her? Or maybe she just wasn’t in the mood for kissing? No, that was nonsense. Junko would always nearly drown her in affection no matter the circumstances. Mikan knew she must have made a mistake somehow.
Her heart began to pound in her chest—she had to fix this. She pulled away from Junko and bit her lip, staring down at her lap. “U-Um…Junko, do you m-maybe want to…take me to the bedroom?”
Junko’s eyes seem to wander all across the room and land everywhere but on Mikan. Her brow was furrowed and lips pursed, an unusual look for someone who was always so certain of every thought she had and every action she carried out.
“Not right now, Mikan. I’m not really feeling up to it.”
Mikan’s blood ran cold as fear began to cloud her mind. Something was most definitely wrong. Junko always wanted her every moment of every day. Why was she being rejected? Did Junko hate her now? She was being too annoying and clingy, wasn’t she? She always had been, and Junko had always forgiven that, but she must have run out of patience. Mikan could only be tolerated for so long, after all.
“O-Oh. Okay…” A small whimper escaped past Mikan’s lips. “Then…i-is there anything else you want to do?”
Junko shrugged. “Not really.”
“Did I do something wrong?” Mikan asked with pleading eyes, desperation heavy in her voice. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you upset! I’ll do anything to make it up to you, so p-please forgive me!”
Junko’s eyes widened, clearly taken aback by Mikan’s sudden begging. “Hey, hey, Miki, no! I’m not mad at you or anything, come on.” Junko reassuringly rubbed Mikan’s back as she tightly squeezed her shirt in her fists, struggling to hold back tears. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.”
“B-but you seem so distant…like you’re bored of me.”
“Me? Bored of you? Hah! Hell will freeze over before that ever happens.” Junko peppered her girlfriend in kisses, making certain she knew that she was still loved. She kissed everywhere from her forehead to her nose, cheeks, lips, and neck. “I’m sorry, I was just thinking about something. You know how I can get.”
Mikan’s frown remained steadfast. While it was true that Junko could often lose herself in long bouts of thought when something particularly interesting caught her mind, she was always aware enough to at the very least pay attention to the person she loved most. Junko would never ignore Mikan, so surely there had to have been something else going on.
“If something’s the matter, then I w-want you to tell me,” Mikan said, her voice small and uncertain. “You can always be honest with me, Junko.”
“I know, I know. It’s just…” Junko drummed her fingers against Mikan’s back and bit her lip. Finally, she huffed, shaking her head and crossing her arms. “Miki. Baby. Sweetie, honey, darling, gravy. You know you’re like, the only person in this entire world that brings me genuine happiness, right? We’ve been together for years and I can’t help but feel like I haven’t done the same for you.”
“W-What?! No! Y-You always make me happy!”
“Nah, I’m talking happy with a capital ‘H’. Sure, you’re super cute when I make you all giggly and super hot when you’re writhing beneath me in bed, but those moments of happiness are fleeting, you know? I want you to be able to smile and actually enjoy your life without me.” Junko promptly took notice of the fear in Mikan’s eyes and clarified. “Relax, I’m not abandoning you—you know I’d never do that. What I’m trying to say is that I want to get nice and deep inside that brain of yours and rearrange the wires so that you’re not so…depressed. Get it?”
Mikan whimpered. Of course her constant self-deprecation and crying had finally gotten on Junko’s nerves. People who were kind to her could only put up with her for so long, and she supposed even the only person who loved her had her limit as well. It was inevitable. Mikan always ended up annoying people to the point where they wanted nothing to do with her, and it seemed the day Junko joined their ranks had come.
On the other hand…Junko was too nice to do such a thing. She would never abandon Mikan—she’d just said as much. She was a kind and caring person, at least, she was when it came to Mikan. All she was saying was that she wanted her girlfriend to attain genuine happiness. Mikan was being stupid by getting worked up over such a sincerely innocent desire.
“I think so…c-can you do that? Fix my brain?” Mikan asked, concerned. “J-Junko, lobotomies haven’t been considered acceptable medical practice since—”
“Oh, I’m not gonna like, literally cut you open and mess with your synapses or something. That’s more Yasuke’s thing—remember him? My ex? See, originally I was thinking of calling in a favor and seeing what he could do for you, but then, when I started picturing you lying unconscious on a hospital bed with a team of doctors standing all around you, poking and prodding at your brain with sharp medical tools…” Junko shuddered, hugging herself as her cheeks dusted pink. “It filled me with despair…but not in a good way. Weird, right? Bad despair? Anyway, he’s good at what he does and I trust him at least a little and blah blah blah, but the mere possibility that something could go wrong and I could lose you forever made me feel all gross. Like I was sick or something.”
Mikan couldn’t help but smile. She’d wondered countless times whether or not her death would bring Junko the ultimate despair that she so desperately craved, but had never had the courage to ask her outright out of fear of what the answer might be. It was comforting to know Junko didn’t love despair as much as she loved her.
“Hell, even without surgery, he could probably just brainwash you into not being depressed anymore, but I dunno. I don’t like that either. Like, at what point do you stop being yourself and become someone else if parts of your personality are completely erased? I don’t want to be handed back some stranger who only looks like you, even if her bod is bangin’.” Junko tapped her finger against her chin before snapping, a grin splitting her lips. “So, if you can’t cure depression by force, what’s the next best option?”
Mikan thought for a moment and stared into Junko’s wide, excited eyes. It was the look she wore whenever she’d come up with some wild or eccentric idea that usually meant Mikan was about to have to apologize to numerous people on her behalf, so the fact that she looked like that when talking about something as sensitive as Mikan’s depression gave her pause.
“U-Um…therapy?”
“Therapy, bingo! Mikan, you genius, you!” Junko began to laugh before sliding Mikan off of her lap, rising to her feet and taking her by the hand. “I want you to be as happy as you can be, so I got you a little present! Wasn’t hard to find, either, with my connections. Come on.”
Spluttering, Mikan tightly gripped Junko’s hand as she was led out of the living room and to the closed door of their bedroom—an oddity, since neither of them liked leaving doors shut. Though she was used to her girlfriend’s capricious nature, still her heart rate steadily increased out of sheer anticipation. What could Junko possibly have hidden away behind the door?
The model stood before their room with her fists on her hips and a proud smile on her face, staring down at Mikan expectantly. “Go ahead! I know you’re curious.”
Though nervous, Mikan obliged without protest, reaching out an unsteady hand to squeeze and turn the doorknob before pushing forward. The first thing she noticed was that the room appeared to be totally normal. The king sized bed was neatly made, the curtains were drawn to let in moonbeams as well as the shining city lights of Tokyo, and all of their things were right where she’d left them before leaving for work that morning. The second thing she noticed was they apparently had a guest.
Before the foot of the bed was a youthful looking woman with sea-green hair and light blue eyes, staring directly at the two who had just entered the room. A maroon scarf was wrapped around her head so that it concealed the bottom half of her face, which was curious enough considering the fact that she was indoors during April, but what was more curious was the high-tech wheelchair she was sitting in. It was complete with a plush red seat, large and sturdy wheels, and a black screen attached to one of the wheels that concealed a significant portion of her body.
While Mikan tilted her head in confusion, Junko’s proud smile remained. “Tada~! I tried to get her wrapped up in a ribbon all nice and pretty for you, but that chair of hers is too fast even for me. Apparently she worked with one of my old classmates on her big senior project, so I asked him for her contact info, let her know what’s up, and worked my Junko Enoshima charm to convince her to work for free. You’re totally welcome.”
Mikan kept her attention on the stranger while subconsciously stepping back and hiding herself partially behind Junko, a habit she’d picked up years ago when they were still high school students. Having to talk to people for work was one thing, but someone she’d never met to be in her home—one of the few places in the world where she always felt safe—was another thing entirely. The simple act of the stranger blinking a single time at her made her shudder.
“Aw, no need to be nervous, babe! She won’t bite. In fact, I’m not even sure she has a mouth under that scarf of hers. Hm…” Suddenly, Junko snapped her fingers and pointed a sharp crimson nail in the woman’s direction, her expression twisting to one of deep dissatisfaction. Mikan was not surprised, as Junko’s demeanor could often change on a whim. It was just another one of her quirks. “Hey! The fuck do you think you’re doin’ just sittin’ there without sayin’ a thing? What, did no one ever teach you manners? Introduce yourself to my rockin’ girlfriend!”
The next moment, a keyboard appeared from a panel on the woman’s chair and she began to type on it with astonishing speed, her fingers moving so fast that Mikan could barely even keep track of them. The sight of the screen coming to life and displaying a light blue background made Mikan jump and let out a small squeak, though her surprise quickly turned to confusion when she witnessed a cartoon rabbit appear from the bottom of the screen and wave at her.
“Hi!” the rabbit said, its voice light and airy. “I’m Miaya Gekkougahara, Former Ultimate Therapist! Sorry for not introducing myself earlier, I didn’t know if you two wanted to keep talking or not!”
Mikan was dumbfounded. As a graduate of Hope’s Peak, she was used to being around peculiar or eccentric people—the woman she was dating was arguably queen of the eccentrics, in fact—but this manner of communication was still off putting. Was this how the Former Ultimate Therapist always talked to people?
“Excuse my little avatar here, I use her to communicate because I’m actually pretty shy, believe it or not. Her name is Usami!” Gekkogahara explained. Despite the animated and exaggerated movements of the rabbit that appeared to be dressed in some sort of magical girl outfit, her actual expression remained completely stoic. “Ms. Enoshima tells me you’re in need of my services, so here I am. We can get started whenever you’d like.”
Mikan stepped out from behind Junko slightly. “U-Um—”
“You’d better not fill her head with any weird shit, got it?” Junko warned. “This kind of thing will be most effective if I’m not here watching you two like a vulture, so I can’t protect her here. You can bet your ass that my Mikan will let me know if you try and pull anything, though, so watch it.”
Usami screamed, evidently frightened by Junko’s warning. After a brief period of keys clacking, she spoke once again.
“No need to worry, Ms. Enoshima! I’m a professional. I promise your girlfriend is in good hands.”
Junko huffed. “Yeah, she’d better be.” The next instant, she was looking down at Mikan with a reassuring smile and warm eyes. “Alright, I’m gonna leave you alone with this weirdo for a bit. Hopefully she can help you out at least a little. All you have to do is answer her questions as truthfully as you can, okay?”
Even though she was still having difficulty accepting the fact that she was going to be explaining herself to a cartoon rabbit, Mikan knew she had to do this for Junko, and so she nodded. Junko’s smile grew and she promptly patted her on the head.
“Good girl.”
Those words caused Mikan’s entire body to redden and a crooked grin to creep up her face, her legs wobbling for a brief moment. She loved it when Junko called her that. It made her heart flutter and her knees weak. She also loved it when Junko kissed her, which was precisely what she did next, taking Mikan’s face into her hands and pressing a wet, sloppy kiss onto her curled lips. Whether Mikan preferred Junko’s soft and tender kisses or her sensual and wanton ones depended entirely on her mood, and right now, she wasn’t quite sure which of those she needed, but she certainly enjoyed it nevertheless.
“Mwah!” Junko pulled away and briefly touched her forehead to Mikan’s before stepping around her and walking through the door frame. “Miki, my love, I’ll be right in the living room, so just shout if you need anything, ‘kay? Knock ‘em dead!” With a light tap on Mikan’s rear urging her forward, Junko finally took her leave, closing the door behind her and humming as her distance from the room grew further and further.
Mikan’s nerves began to creep back—she was still alone with a stranger, after all—but she forced herself to meet Gekkogahara’s cold, eerie eyes that seemed to stare right through her.
“She’s very affectionate, isn’t she?” the rabbit asked, the voice coming through practically the instant its user’s fingers ceased their typing.
Mikan nodded, though still stood in place, practically frozen. “Y-yes, she’s always like that.” She was going to leave it at that, but this was supposed to be a therapy session, wasn’t it? It was good to be detailed. “Um…she isn’t like that with other people—quite the opposite, actually—s-so I think she likes me a lot.”
“She went through the trouble of getting me here specifically for you, so I’m inclined to agree.” Gekkogahara turned her head to look at the bed. “Why don’t you lay down? I’d hate to make you feel like a guest in your own home.”
Mikan reluctantly obliged, climbing into bed and lying down on her back so that she was staring at the ceiling. It was a bit unnerving that she could no longer see the woman she was talking to, but at least she wouldn’t have to ask herself whether or not she should be looking at the person or the rabbit.
“Excellent. Now, let’s begin!” The next words that came from the monitor’s speakers were said in a lower, less excitable tone, as if the character on the screen had stepped out of a children’s cartoon and into a television drama. “Why are you here with me today?”
Mikan tapped her fingers on the back of her palm resting on her belly. It was a simple enough question. “Um, Junko wants me to be happier, and she thinks you can help with that.”
The next few moments passed in silence, almost as if Gekkogahara was waiting for her client to continue, before the sound of keyboard clacks filled the room once more and was followed shortly by the rabbit’s voice.
“Are you unhappy?”
“N-No,” Mikan said, then holding her tongue between her teeth; had she answered too hastily? “I live in a nice apartment with the person I l-love, have my d-dream job, and don’t have a lot to worry about. J-Junko takes care of the financials since she’s really smart, s-so I have a lot of leisure time. I don’t have a reason to be unhappy.”
More silence. More keyboard sounds.
“Why do you think your girlfriend believes you’re not happy?”
That was an easy question. “B-because I always seem anxious, and I cry a lot, and no one can really make me smile except J-Junko. Uh, some people at work tell me that I always look like my dog just died, too, s-so I guess it’s my appearance as well.”
“Is that all?”
Mikan frowned. Such a simple question made her mind race. “Um…n-no, I don’t think so. There aren’t a lot of activities that I enjoy. I like helping sick people and making them better, but outside of that…I d-don’t have any hobbies. I spend my free time doing whatever Junko wants to do. Ah, what else…?” Idly looking for pictures in the imprint of the ceiling, Mikan thought about herself. She knew she was annoying, she knew that most people couldn’t stand being around her for too long, but putting the reasons as to why into words proved to be difficult. “I always assume the people around me have the worst intentions, and they get r-really upset because of it. I get s-scared too easily, and I talk too much, or sometimes not enough…o-oh! I’m sorry! I’m s-supposed to be explaining why Junko thinks I’m depressed, not why people hate me!”
She shot up and turned to face Gekkogahara, fully prepared to jump into one of her apologetic fits, only to find that the look on Usami’s face was oddly satisfied as she nodded in understanding.
“No need to apologize. Thank you for your answer. I believe I’m starting to understand.”
Mikan gripped the bed sheets tightly, her eyes wide. She’d barely said anything and already Gekkogahara was beginning to understand her? She supposed that was to be expected of the Former Ultimate Therapist.
“Ms. Enoshima seems to be a very important person in your life. If you don’t mind my asking, I’d like to know how you first met.”
Immediately, Mikan’s eyes lit up and she smiled. Now that was a topic she would gladly spend all day talking about.
“Y-You’re right! Junko’s very important to me!” She sighed happily, her heart pounding at the mere thought of her beloved. “Junko is my sun, my moon, all my stars. She’s my whole world. Um…w-well, we first met at school when I was a second year and she was a first year. She was feeling bored, so she wandered into the nurse’s office and asked me if she could take a nap on one of the beds. Since there was only one open, I told her that she couldn’t, so she sat by the wall and asked if she could talk to me! Oh, I was so nervous, but once she got a conversation going, I was surprised by how easy it was. Talking to Junko felt natural…something about her made me feel secure. Like she wouldn’t hate me if I said something stupid or made a mistake.” Mikan wrung her hands in her lap and giggled, blood rushing to her face. “I’d seen her around school before, and always thought she was super pretty, but I never had the courage to talk to her. She was always so confident and strong. I f-figured that if we were ever going to cross paths, it’d be because she’d kick me out of her way, but when I got to know her, she really wasn’t like that. T-Towards me, at least. She treated me differently from how she treated everyone else, even before we started going out.”
“I see. And when did that start?”
“Only two weeks after we started talking! She skipped class to come into the locker room during my gym class, found me, and asked me if I wanted to go out to dinner after school! I was so embarrassed!” Mikan’s hands flew to cover her face as she began to rock eagerly in bed, ecstatic over reliving one of the happiest moments of her life. “Everyone was watching and some of the girls were l-laughing, so I thought she was pulling a trick on me at first and almost cried. B-but she said she was serious, and so I told her that I’d love to. She was so brave! N-No one at the school even knew that she liked other girls, and everyone was super surprised! I could never do something like that. Um, we had a really nice dinner at a fancy restaurant she’d made reservations at, and then she told me she liked me and wanted me to be her girlfriend. Even though I was crying because I was so happy, she was nice enough to wipe away my tears and wait for a proper answer…I said yes, of course, and that was that.”
“Ah, that’s nice. How did your peers react?”
“M-My peers?” Mikan’s smile died down as myriad memories came flooding back, some happy, most upsetting. “Oh. U-Uh…most of my classmates were happy for me, like Ibuki and Chiaki. Hiyoko thought I must have tricked her into asking me out. I don’t think the people who didn’t know either of us that well took it very seriously…Fuyuhiko’s little sister said that I was just her toy and that she’d get bored and toss me out eventually. Some people started paying a little more attention to me, and they would gossip when they saw Junko and I h-holding hands or talking together, but the biggest change was that everyone stopped bullying me entirely. No more teasing, or name calling, or shoving in the halls, it all went away.”
“Because they were scared of Ms. Enoshima?”
“Mhm. There was one time where a transfer student who didn’t know about Junko tripped me in a hallway while she was with me. She d-didn’t do anything to him right away, but she told him to watch his back. U-Um, he didn’t come to school the next day, and neither did her sister, Mukuro. I don’t think anyone ever saw him after that…th-the point is that most people were scared of her. Not only because of Mukuro’s talent—she was the Ultimate Soldier—but because she can be really mean and cruel.”
“Mean and cruel, but you still love her?”
Mikan nodded. “Y-Yes. Junko isn’t…nice, but she’s really gentle when it comes to me. She’s patient with me, and she never yells at me or gets upset, and she’s always doing her best to make sure I’m comfortable, a-and she’s always showering me in compliments.” She clutched at her chest and bit down on her bottom lip, nearly on the verge of tears. “I l-love her so much…”
It was true. Mikan loved Junko so much that it often hurt. When they were apart, she would think about her and feel a dull, aching pain in her heart. Even when they were together, she was prone to shedding tears brought on only by the absolute bliss of being with her beloved. She’d never felt anything stronger than her love for Junko—nothing even came close.
“That’s wonderful. It’s good that you have someone to rely on.” Gekkogahara let her fingers rest on the keys for a few moments, probably to make sure that Mikan wasn’t about to start crying, before continuing. “Ms. Enoshima is a large part of the reason you’re happy now, yes? Then might I ask how you changed after you started dating her?”
Mikan’s lips curled into a frown. That…wasn’t a question that she’d been expecting.
“O-Oh. Um…” The nurse steepled her fingers, desperately racking her brain for a satisfactory answer. How had she changed since starting her relationship with Junko? Surely she wasn’t the same person she was in high school. “W-Well, I have something to look forward to when I come home now, so it’s easier to get through the day. Ah, w-what else…? I smile more, and recently, there’s been medical evidence to suggest that smiling releases endorphins like dopamine, which in turn makes you happier!”
“I’m glad to hear that, but what I mean is moreso in terms of your general mood or even your personality. Has that shifted at all?”
Mikan’s face blanched, becoming even more pale than it usually was. Was Gekkogahara looking for a specific response? No. No, she was supposed to be honest and not just give what she thought was the right answer. She had to be candid for Junko’s sake, but for as much as she thought about it, she had not changed much since high school. She was still the same meek, timid little girl she’d always been, the only difference now being that she was no longer completely alone.
The fact that Junko made her happy was evident, but if that were the case, then why was she still on edge all the time? Why couldn’t she keep her chin up unless she was around her girlfriend? Why did she need Junko to make her smile? She was a grown woman—shouldn’t she have been able to do all that on her own?
“N-no,” Mikan said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I see. So, the root of your current happiness is your relationship with your girlfriend, but you say you haven’t changed much since you started dating. Would you say you were depressed before then?”
Mikan whimpered. Of course she was.
“Y-yes…”
“Ms. Tsumiki,” Gekkogahara paused again, attempting to maintain eye contact with Mikan even as she stared at her lap, “would you say you’re depressed now?”
Mikan felt small.
“Yes,” she admitted, voice trembling. She struggled to get such a simple word out.
She heard the clicking of keys, though no voice came through the speakers. Gekkogahara must have been taking notes, pleased that she’d reached the conclusion she’d been looking for. Mikan had spent so much time talking about her relationship with Junko that she’d almost forgotten that this wasn’t supposed to be her half of couple’s counseling, but rather a therapy session that had been set up specifically for her. There was something wrong with her and Gekkogahara was here to get to the root of whatever it was and possibly deduce a way to treat it. Reminding herself of that brought her down from the high she’d felt when gushing about the woman she loved.
“It’s often difficult for people to accept that they’re depressed. That being said, it’s an integral first step in the treatment process. The fact that you’re able to admit that to yourself is fantastic,” Usami said, a reassuring timbre entering her robotic voice. When Mikan did not respond, Gekkogahara moved on. “Now, I’ve heard a few things about your past from Ms. Enoshima, but I’d like you to tell me about it yourself, if you’re willing. What was your upbringing like?”
Mikan winced at the request. Grim memories came creeping from the darkest depths of her mind and the echoes of sinister voices sounded in her ears. If she wanted to silence her thoughts, she had to drown out the noise with her own voice. She had to keep talking.
“I, uh, grew up with both my p-parents, but I didn’t have any brothers or sisters. Because we didn't have a lot of m-money, my mom and dad worked a lot, so I spent a lot of my time outside or at s-school. People…weren’t very n-nice to me, kids or adults. They would call me names, hit me, cut me, burn me, m-make me do things for them. Things like that. I don’t know why. I used to think that I was just n-naturally hateable, but Junko tells me that that’s not true, so…um. Th-That’s how I learned so much about medicine, actually! I would get hurt so much and no one ever wanted to help me, so I learned how to patch myself up. A-Anyway, things got a bit better when I got to Hope’s Peak, but only really stopped once Junko and I started d-dating, like I said.”
“Your parents didn’t do anything about this?”
Mikan’s frown grew. “Mom and Dad were, um…they weren’t nice to me, either. Dad would hit me all the time whenever he was upset—which was a lot—and Mom never paid much attention to me until I was older.” A shudder ran down her spine and her fingers stiffened. She had to squeeze her eyes shut to keep herself calm. “W-W-When I started middle school, she and Dad started l-looking at me differently, and th-that’s when she really started to hate me. She would call me things like whore and s-slut and stopped buying me underwear, so I had to get a part time job to be able to buy that stuff myself, b-but Dad would sometimes not let me go whenever he was off from work. H-He um, w-wanted me to stay home with him so that he could…um…t-t—” Mikan shook her head to expunge the vivid images from her mind. Bad thoughts. Very, very bad thoughts. “N-Never mind! I, uh, d-don’t hate anyone for the way they treated me. I think of all the people in my life, Mom made me feel the worst, because she pretended I didn’t exist. I don’t like it when people ignore me…it m-makes me feel like I’m not even there. Like I don’t exist. It’s scary.”
“Ah. I’m sorry to hear that. What sort of relationship do you have with your parents now?”
A slight smile twitched to life on Mikan’s face, a smile that filled her with guilt. She truly was awful.
“Th-they both died during my first semester at Hope’s Peak. Drug overdoses.”
“I see. A different question, then. Have you ever stood up to one of your abusers? Ever told them no, ran away, things of that nature?”
Mikan nodded, though only one instance came to mind. “Y-Yes. It was only a few days before I started dating Junko, b-but I already knew that I was in love with her. A boy from the Reserve Course asked me to go on a date with him, so I did. He seemed n-nice enough. He told me I was pretty and that he didn’t like how people were always picking on me. I thought he was a good guy, b-but he took me back to his dorm, and before I could leave, he grabbed my arm and started kissing my n-neck and taking my c-clothes off. People have d-done all kinds of things to me before, but never, um, that. Dad used to tell me that I wasn’t good enough. That I was dirty. I felt b-bad at first, but eventually I started to think of it as a good thing. That was the one part of my body that was still mine. I p-probably would have let him do whatever he wanted, but…I wanted to give myself to J-Junko. I wanted to be hers so badly. I asked him to stop, b-but he wouldn’t, so I punched him in his solar plexus and ran away. It was difficult avoiding him after that, b-but then I became Junko’s girlfriend, and he stayed away from me.”
“That was very brave of you. A common response to sexual assault is to shut down or even disassociate, so it’s good that you were able to get away before things could escalate even further. Now we know you’re capable of standing up for yourself. See? You’re stronger than you think, Ms. Tsumiki.”
Shaking her head, Mikan raised her gaze slightly to look Gekkogahara in the eyes once again. “N-No, that was only one time, and it was only because of Junko that I could.”
“Was it? You took ownership of your own body and refused to let another person do what they pleased with you. Regardless of why you did so in that instance, the fact of the matter is that you always had the potential to. You were simply lacking in motivation before. Ms. Tsumiki, it’s important to remember that your body belongs to you and no one else, and what you do with it is entirely up to you. You shouldn’t allow others to harm you for any reason.”
“B-But if I don’t, then they’ll end up h-hating me, won’t they?” Mikan asked, desperation in her tone. “I d-don’t anyone to hate me! A-And even if they want to hurt me, it’s better than being ignored, isn’t it?”
“ Ms. Tsumiki—”
“I want people to pay attention to me!” Mikan held her head in her hands as tears began to spill from her eyes, rolling down her pale cheeks and falling onto her legs. As much as she hated it, she was repeating the same things Junko had debunked time and time again. For all her beloved’s efforts, Mikan would only believe her for a short while before the same sentiments cemented themselves in her mind once again. “I h-h-hate being ignored. I don’t want to be alone! I just want to be acknowledged, s-so if that means people hit me or insult me, then it’s fine! I deserve it anyway!”
“Why do you deserve it?”
“Because I’m a horrible person,” Mikan sobbed. “I’m m-messed up. I’ll trip on purpose just to get people to pay attention to me. P-Part of the reason I like taking care of people is because I like the feeling of having control over them—w-what sort of person thinks like that? I hate myself! I’m ugly and annoying and stupid and no one could ever l-love me!”
As she wept, Mikan’s thoughts became consumed by dark memories. All the times she had been struck or shoved or cut or bruised or molested served as reminders that she was less than nothing. Her only worth was serving as stress relief for anyone unfortunate enough to cross her path, and even then she did a poor job of it. Yet, she still desperately longed for forgiveness. It was despicable. How dare someone as contemptible as her hope for anything—let alone someone else’s heart? No one could ever love her. She would be alone forever. When she died, no one would mourn, and some might even celebrate. The only way anyone could ever care about her would be if they hated her with such a passion—
“Ms. Enoshima loves you.”
Junko loved her.
That was right, Junko loved her. In spite of her countless flaws and imperfections, Junko somehow saw beauty beneath all of her ugliness, and she loved what only she was able to see. Mikan never understood why, but the why never really mattered. What mattered was that there was someone who not only forgave her existence, but celebrated it. Someone who cherished her, who genuinely wanted her to be happy, who went through the trouble of calling one of the best therapists in the world to their home for the sole purpose of making Mikan love herself even half as much as Junko loved her.
Junko was a strange person. Mikan often did not understand her and the same could be said for the few other people in her life whom she kept close. For years, Mikan had told herself that Junko’s attraction to her was something only she could feel due to the peculiar way her brain worked, but was that truly the case? Was her love just another quirk of the Ultimate Fashionista—no, the Ultimate Analyst? Was Mikan’s only purpose to make Junko’s life slightly less boring? If that were the case, then she truly was alone. She was nothing without Junko.
No, that’s wrong!
It was something she had to remind herself of often. For as skilled at deception and treachery as she was, if there was one person Junko could never lie to, it was Mikan. Reading people was one of the few things she was good at. Even for a master of duplicity, their body would always reveal the truth whether they liked it or not, and never once had Junko ever lied to her. Every soft caress, every sweet nothing whispered into her ear as they lay in bed, every kiss upon her lips was genuine. There was not a hint of despair in the love Junko held for her. Only warmth, tenderness, and affection.
“I-If Junko can love me,” Mikan began, choking back sobs, “th-then other people can, too, r-right? E-Everyone deserves love, and I’m someone, so…I d-deserve it. I know. She tells me all the time, and I just…I just f-forget sometimes. I’m sorry.”
Mikan took Gekkogahara’s silence as a chance to collect herself, wiping her face with her shirt and beginning to calm herself down. She took a long, deep inhale through her nose,
One, two, three, four.
and a long, deep exhale through her mouth.
One, two, three, four.
In, out, in, out. Soon, her heart had steadied and her nerves had calmed. She was okay. She was home.
When the nurse finally turned her attention back to Gekkogahara, she found that the display of her chair had been shut off, leaving only a black screen reflecting back the image of Mikan’s own rosy visage. She was simply sitting there with her hands folded in her lap and her eyes glued to her client.
“U-Um…i-is our time up?” Mikan asked. She felt like she’d barely been there for five minutes, but they were already done? “O-Okay, I understand. Th-Thank you so much for coming!”
“You shouldn’t feel guilty about not being okay.”
Mikan’s eyes widened. Gekkogahara’s voice was low and raspy, characteristic of someone who likely hadn’t said a word in well over a year. Despite the rough, gravelly texture of her tone, there was also an oddly comforting sincerity to it. Mikan could tell she was speaking from her heart.
“Your girlfriend is always telling you how wonderful you are and praising you, yet you have a difficult time taking it to heart, and that makes you feel unappreciative. Keep in mind that years of abuse at the hands of countless individuals is extremely difficult to heal from, let alone by a single person in such a short span of time. These things take a while, and while there are those rare cases where someone can recover on their own, usually a person will need a robust support system. Ms. Enoshima isn’t the only other person in your life, is she?”
“N-No,” Mikan said, shaking her head. “There’s Mukuro, too. Ibuki was my best friend in high school, but we haven’t talked in a while since we’re both so b-busy. It’s the same with Mahiru, Hiyoko, Hajime, Chiaki…”
“I recommend seeing if you can reconnect with them, then. I’m sure that they’d be more than happy to talk with their old friend again. In addition to that, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to be a part of that support system as well.”
Mikan tilted her head. “You’d like to have more sessions?”
“Of course. I always have numerous sessions with my patients before I’m absolutely sure that they’re ready to move on, and even after that, I like to keep tabs on them. What sort of therapist would I be if all I did was make you cry and give you a little pep talk?” Gekkogahara laughed a hoarse laugh, scarf slipping and unveiling a youthful grin. Mikan had forgotten that the woman sitting before her was only a year or two older than her, having been part of Hope’s Peak 76th graduating class. Even when she was speaking through her cartoon anthropomorphic rabbit, she came off as so much more mature than the upperclassmen Mikan had known.
“As for our next session, I’ll have Ms. Enoshima give you my contact information so that we can settle on an appointment date and time. I think I’d like to get to work on getting you proper diagnoses so that we can begin discussing prescriptions and the like—if that’s the path you’d like to go down, of course, but seeing as how you were the Ultimate Nurse, I’m assuming you know all about different sorts of medication.”
By this point, Mikan’s heart had begun to pound in her chest once again, only this time, her eyes were shining with hope. Finally, after so many years, she’d taken the second step towards achieving true happiness. The first step had been falling in love with and subsequently dating Junko, of course. Not only that, but she was finally able to read Gekkogahara’s face now that the scarf was out of the way, and everything about the therapist’s expression told her that she was going to be okay. She was in good hands.
“Th-Thank you. Thank you so much,” Mikan said, expecting her tears to make their swift return as they always seemed to when she was happy. This time, however, they seemed to have exhausted themselves, leaving her face bright and unsoiled. “I don’t know how I can repay you.”
“Well, you can start by calming your girlfriend down. Something tells me she’s still worried about exactly what’s been going on here.”
“R-Right!” Mikan promptly sprung to her feet, puffed out her chest, and scurried over to the bedroom door, squeezing the doorknob in her hand.
“Ah! One last thing,” Gekkogahara said. “Would you mind calling Ms. Enoshima in here? I’d like to speak to her.”
“Of course. I’ll l-let her know.”
Finally, Mikan pulled the door open and stepped out into the hallway. Upon turning her head to look into the living room, she immediately found Junko pacing back and forth across the carpet and muttering to herself with an intense look on her face. Mikan wasn’t exactly sure where she’d gotten the black and white pair of headphones she was wearing, but she had tied her hair into one large ponytail so that they would fit better over her ears. They must have been noise canceling as well, since she did not notice Mikan walking down the hall and into the living room until she turned around and spotted her standing there with a smile on her face.
“Mikan!” she gasped. Before Mikan had the opportunity to say anything, her face was buried in her beloved’s chest as she was squeezed in a hug that suggested Junko hadn’t seen her face in ages. “Oh, my sweet, precious, sexy little nurse! Are you okay? Did the creepy mute girl hurt you? Wait, shit, I can’t hear anything.”
Junko promptly removed her headphones and tossed them over her shoulder, not caring where they landed or whether they broke or not. “Sorry ‘bout that, I didn’t want to risk eavesdropping on you guys through the walls. I totally would have kicked the door down if I heard you crying or something.” She put her hands on Mikan’s shoulders and stepped back, staring right down at her face. “And from the looks of it, you have DEFINITELY been crying. Do I have to hurt that chick? Or worse?”
Mikan rapidly shook her head, fully aware of the fact that if she took too long to answer, then Gekkogahara would have the wrath of Junko Enoshima to contend with. “Not at all! She was really helpful, actually. I did most of the talking, but…she said the right things.”
“So I don’t say the right things?” Junko’s eyes darkened. “I knew it. I should have stolen her session recordings and studied them instead of calling her out here, then I’d be a way better therapist. You know I’m not so good with emotions. I’ll be better in the future, I swear.”
“Th-That’s not it! You’re great, Jun-Jun. It’s just different when you’re talking to someone who doesn’t already know everything about you, you know? Especially when that person is trained specifically to handle people like you."
“But she could do something for you that I couldn’t. That’s unacceptable.” Junko suddenly huffed, looking annoyed. “Whatever! I guess I can’t be talented at EVERYTHING. Tying Hina in a swimming race is one thing, but something as complicated as therapy? I’ll leave that to the professionals. Still, it’s annoying that I’m not able to give you something you need. It makes me feel sick.”
Mikan took Junko’s hands into her own and pressed a kiss into them, then looking Junko in the eyes. “Please don’t despair, Junko. Without you, I would never be able to achieve true happiness to begin with. You’re the most important part of my life.”
“Mm…yeah, I guess that’s fine. It’s not like I’m ever going to leave you anyway, so I’m cool with having that title. Honored, even. Oh, sweet Mikan Tsumiki, I’m not worthy!”
As Mikan giggled, Junko spun her around and dipped her, giving her a deep kiss filled with all the love she held within her. She then gave a cheshire grin and briefly glanced back down the hallway.
“All right, how about we kick her out so that I can give you some good old-fashioned Junko-style therapy on our own bed? Sound good?” Junko purred, the vibrato in her voice making Mikan’s whole body shake and burn in excitement.
“I w-would love to…b-but we can do that later!” Mikan said. As much as it pained her to reject her lover’s advances, both due to the disappointment in Junko’s eyes and the fact that she herself so desperately longed for her touch, she had a request to fulfill. “Um, Gekkogahara actually wants to talk to you.”
Junko made up her face as she straightened Mikan out so that she was once again standing on two feet. “Eh? The hell for?”
“I don’t know, she didn’t say. U-Um, I hope she doesn’t keep you for too long…”
“Don't you worry your pretty little head now, Miki. I’ll go see what she wants, kick her out, and then we can have some fun, ” Junko gave a shining grin and leaned forward to pat her on the head. “Just sit tight and be a good girl—I’ll be back in a bit, ‘kay?”
Mikan quivered at her words; Junko knew precisely what her weakness was and had just exploited one of them. Those pair of magic words caused her to stumble back for a moment, dizzy, before slowly nodding her head.
“O-Okay,” she said, failing to hold back her delighted giggles. After Junko wiggled her fingers at her before sashaying down the hall and into their bedroom, Mikan swooned and collapsed down onto the couch, heart aflutter and a seemingly permanent smile on her face.
She allowed herself to feel hope for once. “Hope” was a dirty word in their household due to Junko’s peculiar obsession with its opposite, but how else was Mikan supposed to describe the emotion consuming her? She had a therapist, something her friends in high school had urged her to get countless times, but she had always rejected the notion on the basis of not wanting to bother anyone. Not only that, but as always, she had Junko.
For all her ugliness and insecurities, Junko loved her unconditionally. Junko was her light. Junko was her hope— though, she would never tell her that directly. Because of her, Mikan would never be alone again, for Junko had promised never to abandon her. Junko often broke promises, of course, but never when it came to Mikan. She was too precious to her.
Mikan loved her so much, and now, with Gekkogahara’s guidance, she could come to love herself as well.