OBSESSION

I was never the type of girl who believed in love or romantic things for some reason, neither was I interested in girl talk or anything that seemed too “girlie.” All through grade school and high school, I had never seen anyone in a romantic way like my friends and classmates did. I often wondered if I was weird or if it was something some people just experienced in life.

I mean, about ninety-six percent of girls fancied one guy or another. They fantasized about the perfect guy who would keep them safe, hold them tight, shower them with love and desire… the perfect man who would make their world spin. Maybe that’s because I never craved to be “safe.” Being safe felt like being caged.

Or maybe I’m lying to myself — because I do want someone by all means, and I know it’s not love. It’s not romantic. Yet I want him so badly. I could do anything to have him.

Currently, I was sitting in a course mate’s apartment with my cousin Eleanor, and I had no idea why I agreed to come. Whether or not I had anything important to do, I wasn’t a fan of gatherings — especially with specific people my cousin was too dumb to cut off.

The apartment wasn’t that bad, honestly. It was even better than mine or anywhere else I’d lived. But that was expected from Laura, the rich MEO’s daughter.

“I’m so sorry about that, girls. I had to pick that call — you know how Collins can be, right?” she said with a giggle. For some reason, Eleanor giggled right along with her.

“Yeah, you guys are like the couple of campus. Everyone just wants to get a taste of the lovey-dovey girl,” Eleanor said, which satisfied Laura’s taste for attention.

“Anyways, enough about me. Girl, you never told me you had the cutest MBC here!” Laura said, turning to me. MBC? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“Most beautiful chick,” Eleanor whispered before facing Laura again. “I know right? Like, Natia is the cutest thing alive.” Then she tackled me with her infamous bear hug that always managed to choke me.

“Girl, you’re right. She’s just adorable. So tell me — who’s your man?” Laura asked, and it shocked me that she was speaking directly to me for the first time.

Managing to escape Eleanor’s chokehold, I met Laura’s gaze — a habit of mine that would eventually become a problem.

“Oh, Nat—”

“None.”

Both women looked surprised, but Eleanor quickly covered it up.

“No freaking way! You’re telling me not one dude is trying to eat you up?”

“I don’t, and I’m not planning to,” I said dismissively.

“Larry bae, see? Natia has her own fetish. No normie can get her that easily,” Eleanor said, and I resisted the urge to glare at her.

“Oh my god, girl, that’s so bad,” Laura said, smiling and showing off her perfect teeth.

I shrugged and took a sip of the lemon juice she gave me. I wasn’t about to explain anything. Maybe it was a fetish — one I wanted badly. People could think whatever they wanted; I honestly didn’t give a damn.

Eventually, we left her place and returned to our little rented apartment not too far from campus. That alone made my entire evening better.

The moment we got in, I headed straight to the bedroom and threw myself on the bed. Finally — my sanctuary, where I had fewer worries. But of course, peace never lasted long.

Eleanor leaned on the doorframe with her arms crossed, giving me one of her infamous glares. I rolled across the bed and growled loudly, which annoyed her — making me grin.

“You’re so— ugh — killable!” she finally said when I didn’t respond.

“What? Now you wanna kill your beloved MBC?” I teased.

“God, I regret ever taking you out.”

“Ouch. That hurts. Like… real bad,” I said, sitting up.

She sighed dramatically and came to sit at the edge of the bed. She always did this when she slipped into her “I’m the adult here” mode — and it pissed me off.

“Look, Nat. I’m doing this because you need it, yet you keep acting nonchalant.”

“And how is this for my own good?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Imagine you finally meet your hot man and you can’t even talk to him,” she said.

“I’ll let you know I’m very social. I can talk to him when I find him.” I didn’t think it through — I just said it.

“Okay, practice time.” She shifted to face me fully. “I’m this hot Yakuza man. You approached me without permission. My guard’s up. I’m staring down at you. So… what do you say?”

I smirked confidently. “Well, that’s simple. I’ll just— I’ll just… uh…” My smirk died. Completely.

“Whoa. I don’t know what I’m gonna say… that’s bad. I have to make a good first impression. No, no, no— fuck, no…” Panic seeped into me. I couldn’t screw things up when I met him. That could be the end of me.

Eleanor’s smug face made it worse.

“You see? You’re one of the most socially awkward people I know.”

“So what are you trying to say? Get to the point,” I snapped.

“Calm down, tigress. I didn’t say I won’t help. Look — when you meet him, start with an introduction. Don’t sound desperate or weird. Just be yourself and go with the flow.”

“Yeah, I definitely knew that,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Mhm. Sure you did.” The sarcasm was so thick I could choke on it.

I kicked her lightly and she slapped my leg, laughing.

I never considered myself social — for good reasons. I was different from my peers, not because I wanted to feel special, but because I couldn’t fit in properly. People always said “fake it till you make it,” but that didn’t work for me.

I wanted something impossible — something I craved deeply.

When other kids obsessed over cartoons, Barbie dolls, or superheroes, my mind attached itself to something else completely. Something that became… an obsession, one I refused to admit for years.

I was five. It was a normal Saturday. Mom was off work, so I didn’t have to go to daycare. I was outside playing with sand and grass with the other kids, though I hated playing outside — the other kids were too rough.

Uncle Jesse, my dad’s brother, came for a visit. That surprised me because my parents kept saying something about him traveling.

When he walked in through the pathway, I froze for a moment, trying to remember who he was — and then I dashed into his arms. He lifted me up, smiling widely. After a few questions I barely remember, we walked inside.

Mom and Dad hugged him warmly. Dad ruffled his hair. I giggled for no reason and sat at the dining chair — the one that was almost too tall for me.

Uncle Jesse brought souvenirs and gifts. I was too focused on mine to care about the adults’ conversation. Everything was beautiful, but one thing caught my eye: a book filled with tattoo drawings — patterns, symbols, colors, stories.

I traced the designs with my tiny fingers.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Uncle Jesse said beside me.

I nodded.

“So which one’s your favorite?”

I eagerly flipped pages until I found it — the most stunning tattoo. Complicated yet simple, unreal colors, a design that flowed like fabric.

“Oh, you’ve got great taste! That one’s beautiful,” he said, ruffling my hair.

“Yes, it is, Uncle Jesse! Where did you get this from?”

“In Japan,” he said. “I visited some local shops on my tour and found a tattoo artist’s place.”

“You have this one?” I asked.

“No, I wish. But it’s not really my thing.”

“Why?”

He chuckled. “Well… this particular tattoo is drawn only on specific people.”

My eyes widened. “It is?”

“Yes. They’re called Yakuza tattoos — only seen on Yakuzas. Amazing, right?”

“Yakuza…?” I repeated slowly.

“Yes, Yakuzas are—”

“Quit it, Jesse. Don’t feed my little girl nonsense,” Dad cut in, slapping Jesse lightly on the back.

“Come on!”

“Don’t listen to him, honey. He talks too much,” Mom said.

“I didn’t say anything bad— alright, forget it. I’m hungry. Where’s the food?” Jesse sighed, making my parents laugh.

If only they knew what was brewing in the head of that five-year-old girl.

---

I was back in my rented apartment, lying on my bed with my laptop, searching for information about a very important person. It was 9:37 AM, and I had no intention of getting up.

Unfortunately, Eleanor marched in, hands on hips.

“Get up, beautiful, or I’ll make you,” she warned.

I didn’t move.

“Don’t let me get to you — no Yakuza is gonna like a crippled bride.”

“You’re a joy-kill,” I muttered, shutting my laptop.

“I don’t mind being the villain if it gets you straightened out.”

“Sure thing, Mom,” I said, rolling my eyes as I headed to the bathroom.

We walked to campus — a short distance. I was a second-year ITRC student at Hamilton University, known for its top-tier students. But that wasn’t why I chose ITRC. I had my own personal reason.

Eleanor and I split up when our paths diverged.

Lectures were boring, mostly because my mind was elsewhere. Later at the cafeteria, Eleanor joined me. She looked cheerful — she loved her course.

She had banana bread and a smoothie. I had chocolate chips.

“So Nat, you’re seriously not coming to Denver’s party?” she asked for the millionth time.

“Yes, Eleanor. Y-E-S. I’m not coming. I have more important things to do than hang around with drunk strangers.”

“You could just not drink, you know. Come on, it’ll be fun. Besides, we both know your ‘important thing’ is stalking some innocent guy… who may not even exist.”

“Don’t say we. You’re unsure he exists. I’m sure.”

“Okay, then imagine he exists and turns out to be some old dude. What then?”

“It won’t change anything.”

“Yeah, sure. But you can’t stay oblivious forever.”

“Oblivious to what?”

“More like who. Denver. He likes you. Like… way too much, Nat.”

“Maybe you’re the only one who thinks that. I know nothing about it.”

Don’t get me wrong — Denver was attractive. Chestnut curls, hazel eyes, smooth jawline, tan skin, a perfect build, perfect height… someone I would’ve considered, if he wasn’t drowning in female attention.

“Nat, you need to try new things to know what you like. He isn’t that bad,” Eleanor insisted.

“I never said he was. It’s just that Denver—”

“Yeah? What’s up with Denver?”

A deep, familiar voice whispered right beside my ear. I almost flinched.

Eleanor’s eyes lit up instantly. I didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“Denver, why don’t you sit?” she said.

He looked at me first. “May I?”

I nodded, assuming he’d sit far away. He didn’t. He sat so close our arms almost touched.

“So, good afternoon, ladies. How’s your day been?” he asked politely.

“Not eventful. Just classes,” Eleanor said. He nodded before turning to me.

“How about you, miss?”

“Same old boring day. Wishing for something exciting,” I said.

“Aww, I feel you. Wish I could help, but I think I’m the boring type too.”

Liar. Denver was anything but boring. It felt like he just wanted to sound humble.

“You? Boring? Please,” Eleanor snorted.

They kept talking. I zoned out, nodding whenever it felt appropriate. I just wanted to get home and continue my research — not be stuck between a hot guy and my overly enthusiastic cousin.

“…can I?” Denver’s voice suddenly cut in.

“Huh? Me?” I looked confused, glancing at Eleanor for help.

“I want some of your chips,” he said.

I shrugged, unable to respond because I had one hanging from my lips.

He smiled — then leaned closer.

Too close.

His nose brushed mine. My heart skipped. His fingers brushed my lips as he plucked the chip away — and popped it into his mouth, never breaking eye contact.

He leaned back with a smirk.

“I wanted to see how good chocolate tastes. It’s really good.”

Eleanor’s expression was… demonic. She burst into laughter, giving me a chance to break eye contact.

“I hope you know you’re in public. Keep it mild,” she laughed.

Denver’s eyes widened before he chuckled. “Honestly, I forgot.”

“Yeah, suit yourself,” I muttered, trying to seem unbothered.

After a while, he stood. “Anyway, I’ll head out. Just reminding you about the party this Friday. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you both. Natia — see you tomorrow.”

He walked off, and I found myself watching him go. When I reached for more chips, Eleanor was staring at me with the creepiest smile known to mankind.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I asked.

“So… you and Denver, huh?”

“Please don’t. Just stop right there.”

“Fine, fine. So edgy,” she giggled.

“I’m going.” I stood.

“To where?”

“Home. Duh.”

She shoved the rest of her food into her mouth and followed me out.

“Girl, wipe your mouth,” I said as we headed home.