“Th-This is the fifth time y-you've come here this week… Are… Are you sure everything is okay, Enoshima-san?”
Mikan was staring worriedly at Junko Enoshima, the washed out lights of the nurses office casting them in blue. The injuries she was tending to weren't severe, but the amount of times Junko had come into the nurses office this week were. And yet, Junko Enoshima was waving her concern away, carefree, with a bright, illuminous smile—as bright as the flickering LEDs above them.
“Everything is fine!” She laughs, “You're worrying too much, Miki-chan.”
Mikan blushed at the nickname. “But… you seem to be getting injured a lot, all of a sudden… Wh-Why is that?”
“I'm a clumsy girl, you know! It's the heels. They're a killer!”
Mikan smiled faintly, giggling. “Well, so long as you aren't being hurt.”
Junko blinks. “Of course not? I mean. Who'd even mess with me, Miki? I have my big bad sister to growl at anyone who comes close.” She rolled her eyes at the thought of Mukuro, before she sent another smile towards her. “But it's sweet that you're worrying.”
“I-it's just… you never used to get hurt so much. Just last week, you were never so injured!”
“Aw, Miki, that's so sweet—you really paid attention to me enough to notice that?”
Mikan blushed once again. “Th-That's not…”
“Well. I'll let you in on a secret, Miki.” She whispered low, leaning in deep. “Ever since I first met ya last week, I've also been watching you.”
A suspicion itched in the back of Mikan's mind, even as she flushed at the intimate sound of her voice. “Enoshima-san, you… you d-didn't injure yourself to see me, did you?”
—What an arrogant thing to ask! Mikan shrunk just after—had she really gotten so comfortable with Junko, that she forgot her place? It probably wasn't that; Mikan was just looking for thing's that weren't there again. But Junko's eyes only widened, no admonishment coming, and after a moment, she laughed. “You caught me,” she admitted.
Mikan's eyes widened—she was right? But more importantly...
“Th-That's no good, Enoshima!” Mikan protested, eyes blown wide and finger starting to wag. “You can't injure yourself just for that! If you want to see me, j-just ask! I'll go with you!”
Junko stared at her, and Mikan felt her cheeks flush, wondering if she said something wrong. Her stare was intense, mouth pressed, as she asked her seriously, “Then, Mikan Tsumiki, would you do me the pleasure of going on a date with me?”
Her cheeks burn redder still. “D-D-D-Date?!”
Junko Enoshima glanced away, lips curling into a small smile, “If you would do me the honor. What do you say, Miki?”
Dizzy, dazed, dazzled; that shy smile sent Mikan's heart into overdrive. “O-Of course!” She stutters, wondering if this is what a heart attack feels like, wondering if she was dreaming, light headed. “But… Why would you want to?”
“Do you think I've been injuring myself this week because I didn't want to see you?”
Mikan considers that, then laughs, giddy. “I'll pick you up at six, then. Don't injure yourself again; next time, use your words.”
Starstruck and blushing at Mikan's unusually confident, comanding voice, the giddiness that seeped from her flushed smile, Junko Enoshima grinned, nodding rapidly—just as red faced as her.
“It's a date, then,” she said, breathless.