“You don't need talent to destroy,” Junko Enoshima smiles.
Natsumi Kuzuryu scoffs. “And you don't need talent to be a giant pain in my—”
“Language!” Junko laughs, leaning away with a wide grin, nearly skipping around her. “Besides, it takes talent to be as annoying as me, I'll have you know!”
Natsumi rolls her eyes. “Yeah? You put effort into being fucking unbearable?”
“A lot of it!” She winks, twirling around her like a circling shark. “Not that you'd really know, being talentless, right? Coasting by with your daddy's money, don't you think it's shameful?”
Natsumi glared, eyes narrowing. “I don't need to be talented to shut you up,” She countered. “I've done it before, I can do it again.”
“Ah, yes, dearest Sato-chan.” She pushed up glasses that appeared from nothing, her hair suddenly in one pigtail and voice teacherly. “You sure did a number on her. You should be proud! Surviving her murder attempt and killing her instead—that's the only real accomplishment you have, is it not? Of course, it was only because of your family that you got away with it.” She paused, before she smirked, voice going high and valley girl-esque. “But, like. I don't think it means much, you know? You're like, not nearly as tough as you claim, you know! You only killed because otherwise, she would have killed you, isn't that right?”
“Fuck off!” Natsumi snapped. “I killed her because just like you , she was a giant pain! She annoyed me, that's it! That's all there is to it—she got in my way!”
“Then why is Mahiru-senpai alive?” Junko smiles with her teeth, and Natsumi falters.
“Fuck you,” she snarled, “That doesn't prove anything! I can kill anyone and anything—don't test me.”
“Prove it.” Junko Enoshima grinned. “Put your supposed ‘talent’ in violence to good use—and join me in messing up the world that betrayed you.”
“Join you?” Natsumi's face twisted, spitting and spat out, “Why would I ever join you?”
“Because I see value in you, Natsumi Kuzuryu.” Junko snatched her hair, twirling it around her fingers, before letting it slip through her fingers with a smirk. “I know what it's like to burn. No one else sees your worth—why not make them?”
Natsumi laughs; Natsumi scoffs. “Do you take me for a fool?” She demands with a furious smile. “You'll use me then toss me out the moment you get bored, Junko Enoshima — a toy to break then disregard. Do you think I'm stupid ?”
And Junko Enoshima laughed right back at her. “You don't need to be, to fall for me,” she smiled so wide, so vicious, so confident that Natsumi almost believed her, “Because, unlike you, I am blessed and cursed with pure, raw talent—and it's enough to push you far, far off that ledge, Natsumi- senpai . It has pushed people bigger and greater than you.”
“Is that so?” She challenged, swallowing past the lump in her throat. “You must know I won't go without a fight.”
“You'll be fighting the whole way down, yes.” She grinned. “But you'll fall all the same. You, your brother, Mahiru-senpai, Peko-chan, the world itself; all will fall to me, eventually. Because, Natsumi Kuzuryu, I'm the worst thing you can be — I'm talented.”
What a cursed and blessed thing, that is.