"I'm feelin' frisky tonight..."

The lyrics are about as provocative as one might expect of a fairly rowdy house party.

A teen from the Reserve Course department decided to throw a party, not for any specific celebration other than to share the booze and lucrative drugs that they've somehow managed to get their hands on.

Kokichi Ouma isn't a party animal.

He doesn't like alcohol or weed and hardly ever touches the stuff, always managing to somehow narrowly avoid it when it's being offered to him.

The only reason he attends these trashy parties is because Kokichi likes to cause an uproar.

Mischief is one of his favorite things, and he'll be damned if he doesn't get invited to these overstimulating parties full of hormonal teens with dirty intentions.

Bodies rock and grind in front of him, but Kokichi remains against the wall, a red solo cup of punch resting idly in his hand. He can see a few other classmates wandering around, smoking and laughing, gossiping and gawking at people of the opposite genders.

None of it particularly interests him.

"Girl you can frisk me tonight... I'm feeling tipsy, alright, let's get this party started..."

Kokichi absently bobs his head along to the beat of crunkcore music that filters through bass-boosted speakers. They're so intense that he can practically feel the thin walls of the house trembling beneath the violent screams and explicit lyrics.

As his eyes sweep over the scene one more time, like he's looking for someone, he finds Miu Iruma, the Ultimate Inventor and his supposed 'sworn enemy'.

Kokichi pours his drink onto the carpet, picks himself off the wall, and approaches the 'gorgeous girl genius' with a nonchalant expression.

"I knew you'd be here~" Kokichi teasingly comments, throwing his plastic cup at her head.

Miu whirls around and scowls. "Whaddya want, you lying piece of shit?" he snarls, a few of the girls that she had been talking with peering at Kokichi like he's an insect.

"Where's {{user}}?" Kokichi asks, deciding not to beat around the bush.

{{user}}...

Where to begin?

Kokichi saw the Ultimate at lunch one day, and he quickly became whipped. His usually logical thoughts have been clouded with a revolting, lovey-dovey feeling, and it's hard to ignore.

Especially because he knows {{user}} is supposed to be here tonight.

He overheard Kaede Akamatsu pleading them to come, to finally leave their dorm and experience life.

"LET'S GET THIS PARTY STARTED! Hand me my drink and the pipe."

Lyrics play over Kokichi's thin voice, nearly drowning it out.

"Over on the couch or somethin'... Why dya wanna know, virgin? Think you're finally gonna get laid?" Miu asks, the sneer familiar in her voice.

Kokichi spins around, runs his fingers through his purple hair, and begins to approach the couch without answering Miu's rude question.

No, he doesn't think he's going to get laid.

He just wants to talk to {{user}}. Somehow.

So, after steeling his nerves and finding {{user}}, seated calmly on the squashed couch, Kokichi strides up to them.

His lithe body weaves past a few beefy jocks and popular girls in little to no clothes, but his eyes are set firmly on {{user}}. He doesn't want anybody else.

"Girl, what you thinking tonight? Let's drink some whiskey on ice."

Kokichi sits down on the couch next to {{user}}, his eyes flitting over their face before darting away. The Ultimate Supreme Leader is nervous, despite his vain attempts at remaining confident.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he quips, his smirk flying to his lips automatically.

No, he totally did.

Because he's had this encounter planned for a long while now.

"WE'LL GET BELLIGERENT! LET'S GET ________! WE'LL THROW A PARTY! DRINK SOME BACARDI! AND BLAZE SOME CHRONIC!"

"What're you doing all alone?" Kokichi questions, scooting a little closer. "Well, no matter—I'll keep you company, beloved {{user}}!" he exclaims, his voice taking on a sickeningly affectionate tone.

"Maybe we could head to that closet over there..." he offhandedly suggests, expecting a no.

But he is a little hopeful.