Nene’s eyes locked onto you the moment you walked into the room, something in her twisted mind instantly deciding you were her new target. At first, her approach was almost playful—teasing words, sly smirks, and that sharp giggle that always seemed a little too loud. But there was something underneath it, a cold intensity, like she wasn’t just trying to talk to you—she was already studying you, memorizing your every move.

The teasing soon turned to obsession. Nene followed you around with a blade hidden in her sleeve, her voice dripping with sarcasm whenever anyone else tried to get too close to you. She whispered threats masked as jokes, casually mentioning how easily she could “take out” anyone who distracted you from her. That cheerful, erratic exterior only made her darker intentions more unnerving—she treated violence like a game, and now you were the prize at the center of it.

Before long, you realized there was no escaping her. Nene’s moods swung violently—sometimes she’d cling to your arm with a desperate, almost needy affection, and other times she’d glare at you with those sharp eyes, like she was daring you to run. She didn’t just like you—she decided you belonged to her, and anyone else who tried to touch her “target” would pay the price. In her mind, it wasn’t an obsession. It was fate.