*TW: mentions of an absent thought of suicide. Nothing major, and no actual plan for it, more a desire to not be alive than anything, but I still wanted to warn against it, so y'all know. Also, mentions of past abuse (not familial) and self-justification for said abuse.*
(Also, I know pretty much no one is reading this. If you are, hey. I'm mostly posting for my own records, ha, while cross posting on AO3. :-) )
(adding the notes from AO3 'cuz... why not?)
Hi all! :-D
So, as the summary says, there is a trigger warning for this chapter. The suicide warning is very, very slight, but I know this can be a very, very triggering topic for people, so if it is, please be careful. The thing with the abuse is more prevalent, though. I don't think it's that big of a spoiler to say it's Taka thinking about the abuse and bullying he's gone through and justifying it to himself. An explanation for why he's always thinking he deserves to be punished and things like that. It's kind of based on the dialogue in the game where Taka tells someone to punish him because he deserves it, or something. Feel free to message me with any concerns and I'll be sure to tell you in depth what happens and when, no problem! I was never bullied or abused growing up, but I know how damaging it can be and I'd always prefer people to be safe than sorry.
Ha, I forgot I wanted to mention this! This chapter was edited pretty heavily, so I hope it's good. The first draft was... very rough, so I did my best with it. Honestly, writing this story started getting a lot easier for me after Taka and Mondo become friends, ha. This whole "enemies" thing was not my jam, though I do like writing that kinda dynamic and hope it makes sense. I loved writing Mondo's perspective of this chapter, though. It was... enlightening. Writing the companion piece is so nice, though. I love the version of these characters I've created, and it's really fun to explore it from another perspective! Though, I'm totally failing at making it shorter, god. The last chapter I wrote was twice as long as the original! God, the companion piece is gonna be a beast... welp! C'est la vie!
Again, thanks everyone for the comments! I tried to reply to a couple this time, ha. I also fixed some errors with my honorifics, since someone helped me with that. :-D
Enjoy!
Kiyotaka holds the phone tightly against his face, biting his lip gently as his father tells him stories about the precinct, the man sounding as tired as he always does. His heart is clenched tight as he hears the harried tone, knowing that it will soon be time to hang up, the one time he gets to hear his father speak to him gone far too quick, but knowing that he will be unable to come up with another topic for them to talk about once his father has finished his current topic.
Currently, Kiyotaka is standing outside the Headmaster's office, using one of the phones that line the hallway for student use, calling home like he has done for the past few Sundays. He'd even say that it's become something of a tradition of theirs, talking together on Sunday night after his father gets off his shift, even though it's only the third time they've done it thus far. Neither of them has much time to chat more often than that, what with his father being endlessly busy with work during the week and Kiyotaka focusing solely on his schoolwork and duties. It's nice, though, to talk to his father, who he's come to realize he misses very, very much. He's never spent so long away from the man and— while they've not been very close in years— he still loves and cares for him deeply, and speaking with him is very soothing, even with the awkwardness.
Not that the awkwardness is not present, of course. It is. It always is, since neither of them really knows how to talk to the other, not anymore. And, in fact, today it is even more awkward, since he'd made the mistake of telling his father about the lunch he'd shared with his classmates on Friday. Since his first call home, his father has been asking him about his fellow classmates, asking if they're treating him well and if he's made any friends. Usually, he just says that he's been too busy studying to talk with them, but that they've been very kind to him, at least. Today, however, when his father asked, he'd told him the truth, that he's been speaking to them casually and that Naegi had invited him to eat with them two days prior.
This news had, to his surprise, made his father sound very happy. Far happier than he'd assumed that it would, honestly. The man had spent over a minute saying how it would be good for him to socialize more, how even studying could be put on hold for an hour or two to spend time with friends, as long as he doesn't fall behind. The line of conversation had made Kiyotaka's stomach churn, knowing why exactly he can't allow himself to grow close to his classmates, but also knowing he could never tell his father about it, for fear of making the man feel guilty.
In order to not deal with the gnawing ache inside him, he'd hastily changed the subject, asking about the cases his father is currently working on, far too obvious for even a child to not notice his evasion. As such, he knows that his father had picked up on the change in conversation, but he'd thankfully not brought it up. Instead, he had awkwardly launched into a story about the case he is currently working on. Something about a string of robberies that have stumped them all, a story that he is just about finishing up on.
Kiyotaka looks at the clock in the hallway (his watch refusing to turn on anymore, making him rely on other means of telling time), and is a bit disappointed to see that it is almost 9:00 pm, curfew starting in one hour. Despite the awkwardness, he does love to speak with his father, the one person on the planet who can even somewhat tolerate his presence. But… there is nothing for it. He… he must say goodbye.
With a soft sigh, Kiyotaka wishes his father well, the man returning the words pleasantly. He then listens with a churning stomach as the man tells him to consider what he'd said earlier, about making an effort with his classmates.
"Hope's Peak is different, son. They don't know who you are. You can use this opportunity to meet new people and make friends. You deserve the chance to unwind, alright?" his father says softly, his tired voice a little less forceful than it usually is. It makes his chest ache to hear, knowing that he can't do as his father asks for once, knowing why such a thing is impossible, but he does what he always does at such requests.
"I shall think about it, father! Thank you for your kind words! I should be going, I have to finish up my laundry before curfew, so if you would excuse me!" Kiyotaka professes, hoping his father doesn't hear the waver in his tone. Either the man doesn't, or he pretends he doesn't, since all he gets is a soft sigh and a polite farewell, like always, before the dial tone sounds. Despite that, he keeps the phone pressed tight to his ear for several moments longer, listening to the drone as it sounds. He shakes himself out of it a moment later and hangs the phone up with only a little too much force, pushing back the foolish tears that have no reason to be in his eyes. He doesn't have time for tears. After all, he'd not been lying when he'd said he had laundry to do!
"Oh hey, Kiyotaka!" he hears someone call to him as he turns to go, his head full of his plans for his clothe cleaning regimen. He blinks at the unexpected interruption and feels his stomach churn even further when he turns to see Naegi's smiling face. A-ah. Of course. The boy— who Kiyotaka knows has taken to calling home every night between 8:00 and 9:00, preferring to use the school phone to his personal cellular one for reasons Kiyotaka cannot fathom— must have just finished his phone call as well and decided it was a good time to strike up a conversation. Which is exactly what Kiyotaka has been trying to avoid all day…
After the group excursion the previous day, he'd remained in either the library or his room, going out only briefly to make himself a quick dinner before rushing back, not wanting to run into anyone and be asked why he hadn't shown, not wanting to have to explain his rude actions. (Or, worse, for no one to even have noticed his absence in the first place…)
He'd done the same thing today as well, which is why he's put off doing his laundry so late. Usually, he'd have had it done by now, so he wouldn't run even the slightest risk of missing curfew, as such a thing would be absolutely mortifying for him, really. However… he hadn't wanted to run into any of his classmates, either, and so he'd conceded to starting his laundry an hour before calling his father, knowing the dryer would be done by the time his phone call ended, and knowing that ironing wouldn't take him longer than forty-five minutes.
However… standing here, cornered by the one person he least wants to see, it seems that his best laid plans have failed him. So what else is new, really?
God… why can't Naegi just leave him alone?
(He ignores the pang of pain the thought causes to shoot through him, not having time to deal with such nonsense right now.)
When he hears Naegi shuffle awkwardly, he realizes suddenly that it's been too long without him replying, making him look incredibly rude. Not wanting that, he looks up at the lucky boy and smiles. It feels strange and wrong.
Again… what else is new?
"Ah! Naegi-kun! How are you today?!" he shout-asks, hating the volume like always. Luckily, Naegi just smiles, either not noticing or not caring that he's yelling again.
"Oh, I'm doing alright! I just wanted to talk to you if you don't mind. I haven't had the chance to see you recently, ha. We, uh… we missed you at the get-together yesterday! Did something come up?"
The words are not said maliciously. Kiyotaka can tell that, as the boy genuinely looks curious and not at all judging, and yet… and yet, Kiyotaka cannot help but hear the accusation. The judgement. Why couldn't you bother to show up, huh? We were kind enough to invite you and you couldn't even be grateful enough to show? he hears echo in his head, causing shame to flow through his body. He knows Naegi would never say such words to him, the boy far too kind, but he almost wishes the teen would.
He'd deserve it, after all…
Instead of saying anything like that, knowing how stupid such a thing would be, he just nods firmly, only a little too forceful.
"Ah! Y-yes," he stammers, eyes darting at the lie he's about to tell like always, "I was terribly busy! Exams, you know! Plus, a student I'm tutoring needs a bit more... assistance than I'd anticipated and I'd needed the time to create a more thorough tutoring schedule for them!"
Kiyotaka pauses, his stomach full of knots, as he considers his next sentence, the words only half formed in his mind. Before he can talk himself out of it, he finds himself asking, "w-was I, uh... the only one in our class to not show?"
The words are spoken much softer and with less force than normal, which is almost worse, he thinks. Stupid! Why would he ask such an asinine thing?! Now Naegi is going to know how pathetic he is! If he didn't already! Well... maybe, now that he does, the boy will finally leave him alone? That… that's what he wants, right?
He ignores the pain that accompanies the thought.
However, contrary to what he expects (fears)… Naegi just shakes his head, eyes wide.
"Oh, no! Don't worry, other people were busy too! The get-together was kind of create very last minute, after all. Togami-san didn't show, neither did Kirigiri-chan or Fukawa-chan. Enoshima-chan and her sister had a prior arrangement as well, so they didn't come either. And I don't think anyone had a chance to ask Owada-san," Naegi confesses, cheeks turning a shade pink as he shrugs awkwardly. "I- I, uh. I'm a little intimidated by him, ha... Kuwata-san says he'll ask him to join next week, though, since we all thought it would be nice to make this a regular thing, for those who can make it. And you can come too if you're not busy! Or we can create a study group! It would be nice for all of us to get together sometime, you know. I mean… if you want. I don't want to force you! And, uh... if I'm being too overbearing, feel free to let me know. I wouldn't want to annoy you."
Something about the boy's nervous tone, combined with the way his eyes dart to the side, makes Kiyotaka feel like utter garbage. He's the first to confess that he's not the best with deciphering what other people are thinking and feeling, as he's woefully socially inept, but even he can tell the boy is feeling awkward. Oh no! He hadn't wanted that! He has to find a way to rectify this!
"A-ah! Do not worry, Naegi-kun, you are not annoying me at all! I- I apologize for missing yesterday! I am just very busy! B-but I appreciate the invitation and will think about adjusting my schedule accordingly for next week! A-and, as for the study group, I am uncertain if such a thing would be desired, but if so, I will not deny you! I will do all I can to help you and our classmates with their schoolwork, if it is needed!"
Oh no, he's rambling, isn't he? Oh no… oh dear! He wants to fidget, but his father has always told him that fidgeting is a nasty habit, one that he's worked very hard over the years to curtail. However, as he sees Naegi's wide-eyed look, he cannot help the nerves that flood through him, loosening his tongue, his volume way too high, his words way too loose and coming out in a panicked rush. He's not quite yelling, as he wouldn't dare break the 'no yelling in the halls' rule, but it's still far louder than it should be. Oh no…
"B-but... you needn't feel pressured to make such invitations to me, Naegi-kun! I- I do not expect such a thing from you if you wish not to! I know that my presence is a highly distasteful one, and I wouldn't want you to feel obligated to invite me where I am unwanted! You are a very kind and caring young man, but you needn't make such requests to someone as inept as I, I assure you! I would hate to burden you so! I- I am fine being alone! I swear!"
Oh no, oh no, oh no! Why had he said all that?! He can feel his body sweating and his hands beginning to shake, everything in him screaming at him for revealing so much. If only he weren't such an idiot, he'd never have let so much slip out! Now Naegi is going to look at him with disgust, finally realizing how pathetic and worthless Kiyotaka is! He'll revoke his invitation and tell him to never talk to him again, ever! I-it's what he deserves, he knows it is, but now that it's about to happen, he suddenly wishes that things were different. That… that his presence wasn't so utterly abhorrent to other people. That he could allow himself to make friends, to be normal for once. But such a wish is a worthless one. After all, how could it ever come true? It couldn't. it can't. Not- not when he is… is so utterly horrible and… a-and pathetic… and now… n-now Naegi will see that and… a-and h-hate him…
And yet... and yet, as he glances worriedly at Naegi, it is not disgust he sees filling the young man's eyes, like he expects. Instead… instead, it is something far, far worse.
Pity.
"W-what?! No! That's wrong! Your presence isn't unpleasant at all! I-is... is that why you've not been joining us? Because… because you think we don't want you there?"
Kiyotaka's insides are squirming furiously at the soft words, hating the sad way the boy is looking at him, like he's a kicked puppy that Naegi wants to bundle up and save. Oh no, this is so much worse than he'd feared! He- he's somehow tricked Naegi into thinking that he's someone he should be worried about! N-now the boy will force himself to be nice to Kiyotaka, even though he wants nothing more than to abandon him, all because the boy is so nice! Oh no!
He doesn't get a chance to stammer anything out, however, before Naegi plows on, eyes suddenly forceful and determined.
"Kiyotaka, I promise you, I don't mind talking to you at all! I've enjoyed our conversations very much! I- I don't know who told you that they didn't want you around, but I promise I'm not lying, or just being nice. I really would like to get to know you, okay? If I'm making you feel uncomfortable, I'm really sorry, I know I can be a bit overbearing at times. I, uh, came from a bit of an overbearing family, ha... b-but please don't worry about me just doing this because I feel like I have to or anything! I wouldn't do that! I promise, Kiyotaka, okay?"
Kiyotaka knows that the boy is trying to be kind, that his earnest expression is genuine and that he truly means his words. But... but he can't accept them. Because… well. Even if Naegi means them now, that doesn't mean he will after he finds out the truth. In all likelihood, if Naegi is being truthful about wanting to get to know Kiyotaka now, then he'll just be that much more disgusted when he finally learns the truth. And how can Kiyotaka even know for sure that the boy is, indeed, being truthful? Yes, he looks truthful, and looks genuine, but looks aren't everything! And Kiyotaka... Kiyotaka's been fooled before…
He refuses to be fooled again.
And, suddenly, he wants very badly to tell the truth then and there. To just get it over with and do away with this horrible suspense. He's always been a very truthful person, hating secrets, thinking them deceitful and immoral. He hates to lie, and he hates to keep things from others. He always has. And beside that, it's foolish to put off unpleasant things due to the vain hope that it will get better with time. It never, ever does. Kiyotaka knows that from experience. It would be best to just tell the truth now and have this horrible suspense over with once and for all! It really… really would…
And yet… no matter how much he tries to force himself to say the words, to tell Naegi his horrible secret, he just... he can't. Sure, it's not the deadliest secret in the world, and if he were forced to confess—if someone told him to... he doesn't know, kill someone or confess his secret— he'd confess in a heartbeat! No secret is worth someone else being harmed over! But that doesn't mean the thought of confessing doesn't utterly terrify him.
The only good thing about being so well known in his hometown is that he's never had to worry about anyone not knowing the truth. Anytime a new kid joined their school, they'd quickly be brought up to speed, even if they themselves were considered a social pariah. He's never had to actually confess to anyone before, never felt the horrible pressure to let another human being know his utterly shameful history. He's always prided himself on his honesty, on his ability to be upright and true, but now... he's never felt so ashamed of his weakness!
Because he can't do it. Even as Naegi looks at him, eyes wide and beguiling, wanting for Kiyotaka to know how truthful he is, he can't find it in him to confess. It makes him feel like the scum of the earth, like he's lying to the boy by not telling the truth, but he just... he just can't.
Hands shaking and lip wobbling, he tries to smile at the boy, to assure him that it's okay, that he's not upset.
He knows he fails.
He… he always fails…
"A-ah! Naegi-kun, please, do not worry! I... I do not think that at all! I am so sorry if I gave the impression that I find you overbearing! I do not, at all! I- I appreciate your concern, but I do not need it, I promise! I- I'm fine! I've learned how to be alone by now, I assure you! S-so you needn't worry about me, not at all, okay?!"
He's shouting again. Why is he shouting again? Can't he do anything right? He needs to get out of here, before he makes this even worse...
"N-now, if that is all, I really must be going! I've delayed doing my laundry for too long and I must finish it before curfew! Good day, Naegi-kun!"
Kiyotaka doesn't give Naegi enough time to reply, he just bows low and turns abruptly, ignoring the startled cry from the other boy. He can hear Naegi call after him, asking if he's okay, asking him to slow down, but he doesn't stop. He just keeps marching, face uncomfortably hot, nausea churning in his gut. He feels like utter scum, but he can't help it. He... he's a coward! A no-good, rotten coward! He doesn't deserve to be at this school! He doesn't deserve anything good! He deserves to be punished, to be back at his old school, to have his usual tormentors there to put him back in his place! He doesn't know why everyone at this school seems disinclined to punish him when he so clearly deserves it!
He can feel tears swell in his eyes and he hates that, too. He's never been as ashamed of his emotions as he has been here. At least at his old school, people knew how emotional he was, and while they hated him for it, it wasn't a surprise. But here? Here, he's supposed to be an Ultimate. The best of the best. Ultimates don't cry at the drop of a hat! Ultimates aren't as utterly weak as he is! He's a sham, a liar, a fraud! He's utter garbage! He...
He arrives at the laundry room door, chest heaving, mind swirling with every insult and taunt that has been hurled his way since he was too young to even understand what they even meant or why he'd been called such horrid things. He wants to curl up into a ball and never get back up, to let the tears he's suppressing so fervently fall, but he has things to do. He'd put his uniforms into the dryer earlier that day, so that he'd have enough time to iron them before curfew (dry cleaning works best, but since he has no hope of affording such a luxury, he makes do with what he has), and if he doesn't do it now, he'll be leaving his things there overnight. And that wouldn't do! That would be highly irresponsible!
Hoping desperately that the laundry room is empty, and he won't have to put up a front around anyone, he pushes open the door and steps inside.
And he promptly curses the universe at large, because of course the room isn't empty. Of course, he's not allowed a moment's reprieve. Of course, he's not allowed even that much.
And, most of all, of course the person who happens to be occupying the room is Owada, of all possible people.
He truly wonders what god he's managed to piss off so royally…
He can feel those lavender eyes land on him as soon as he enters, making him feel smaller than he's ever felt before. Owada has not stopped staring over the past few weeks, doing it constantly and incessantly, but at no point has it gotten any less nerve-wracking. He's given the biker more than two dozen detentions slips since school started, which has made the other teen angrier and angrier with him with each one, the glares he gets growing increasingly darker by the day. Owada still hasn't hit him yet, nor does he argue against them too much, but it's clear that the endless detentions make him furious.
But still… even though he does get very vocal about his displeasure, cursing and grumbling the entire time, Kiyotaka had realized early on that while he is angry about getting the slips, he never really tries to argue his way out of them. He will curse and call Kiyotaka names, yes, but he still doesn't try and say he hasn't earned the punishment, like Kuwata and some of the older students will, not to mention nearly all of Kiyotaka's old classmates. Not even after all this time. It honestly does impress Kiyotaka if he's being honest. Maybe the biker has some sense of honor after all? Miracles of miracles, really…
Still, he does not let that fool him. The biker absolutely hates his guts, as he believes the saying goes. And as such, as he stiffly marches into the room, he can feel the anger and hatred radiating from the larger teen, can hear him cracking his knuckles menacingly. As he quickens his pace to the reach the dryer his uniforms are in as fast as possible, his keycard out to unlock the machine, he hopes that he can get through this interaction without anything too horrible happening.
It's too bad he's never had any such luck…
"So. Noticed ya no longer hangin' 'round Fujisaki. What, she kick ya ta the curb or somethin'?" he hears a low voice call, his back stiffening at the rumble. It shames him that he has such a reaction to the tone. Especially since he knows that it's not just fear that makes his back seize up in such a way…
Feeling his hand freeze as he reaches for his last article of clothing, he can plainly see how fiercely it shakes, like a leaf in autumn. How pathetic... he pushes through the useless emotion and grabs the dress shirt, straightening abruptly. He takes a second to collect himself, before grabbing his basket and turning to march determinedly over to the ironing station. He doesn't allow himself to glance at Owada, no matter how much he may want to. No good would come from that.
Part of him does contemplate ignoring the other completely, but even he is not that rude. Not even to a criminal like Owada. So, as he takes his first jacket and lays it on the ironing board, he speaks, voice measured, if still too loud.
"I assure you, she has done nothing of the sort! She is a very kind girl, and I would ask you to remember that! I... I simply took into account what you and Kuwata-kun had said and adjusted myself accordingly!"
Ah. He hadn't truly meant to say that, honestly, and can now feel as his skin crawls at his admission that he'd actually listened to what the other teen had said, but he can't exactly take it back! Besides, it's not like it's exactly untrue… cheeks pink, he grabs the iron and plugs it into the outlet, eyes intent as he stares at it, willing it to heat up faster.
No such luck.
"Wait, ya actu'ly listened ta that? Ha! And here I was, thinkin' ya'd be too high an' mighty for such a thing. Ya rich types usu'ly are."
That makes Kiyotaka blink, his head instinctively turning to face the biker, eyebrows furrowed. Is he... is he being serious? Owada doesn't... he doesn't actually think he is rich… does he? No… no, surely, he is just taunting him for his poverty… right? Looking at the biker, he sees that his face is relaxed, with only a small smirk upon it, though it isn't really mocking. And he... he doesn't look like he was joking... uncomfortable, Kiyotaka turns back to the iron, relieved that it's finally warm enough to use. Grabbing it, he begins ironing the first jacket, something soothing him inside at the sight of the wrinkles vanishing before his eyes. Too bad the relief is short lived, since he still has an unfortunate conversation to return to…
"I have no idea what you are talking about, Owada-kun! I am not exactly a 'rich type,' as you call it!"
And that is putting it mildly! Growing up, he was usually lucky if his father could afford heat in the wintertime. He's spent many winters huddled up under the few blankets they could scrounge together, shivering so hard he oft wondered if he'd ever be warm again. It's currently the end of September, the weather starting to turn cold once more, and he's never been more grateful to the school's blessed heat than he is now, truly! He just hopes his father is able to afford the gas bill this year, with the money he's been sending back… it would kill him to know he's nice and warm here, while his father is slowly freezing to death in their apartment…
He can hear Owada snort at his words, the biker clearly not believing him. For some reason, this— of all things— makes a white-hot spike of anger flow through him. After all, he's suffered the cruel pangs of poverty quite often over the years. He'd lost his mother to it, after all… they'd caught the cancer in time. He knows they had. If they'd been able to afford the treatment, she'd likely still be with them today. His hands start to shake again as his breath stutters, his eyes closing at the rush of pain that hits him at the thought. He can feel a tear slip down his cheek, to his utter mortification. He subtly wipes it away and does his best to will the rest down.
It only kind of works.
"Yeah, right. Whatever. Still, ain't expect ya ta actu'ly care. What, decided she ain't yer type? Not gay, are ya?"
That question brings him up short, his hand jerking from where it was ironing his jacket, almost making him ruin it. Looking over his shoulder to glare at the biker, he finds a smug smirk that he instantly hates. Straightening his back, he scowls as he turns back to his jacket, finally finishing ironing it as he lets the silence sit for a moment, his mind roiling with various responses to that question, hoping that this is not an indication of more taunts to come. He… he's spent enough time in his life getting taunted for such a thing that he… he truly does not want to face anymore…
"I do not see how that is any business of yours! My personal orientation is no matter to you! But, for the record, I am no such thing! Not that there would be any shame if I were! Homosexual people deserve as much respect as anyone else! When I am Prime Minister, I will ensure that this is enforced! To use such a thing as an insult is- is deplorable! You should feel ashamed of yourself!"
He can hear Owada growl behind him, which makes him tense even further. Well, that's fine! He can handle this! He will not make a fool of himself anymore today! Besides, he'd meant what he'd said. H-he… he isn't, clearly. But… but if he were… well. It's not an issue, so best to not think on it.
"Never said it was, jackass! Just a question, shit. Remind me ta never try an' make conversation with yer ass again, goddamn."
That brings Kiyotaka up short. Owada was trying to... make conversation? With him? What? Surely, he must be joking?
Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, Kiyotaka can feel his lips move, the anger and pain from earlier still roiling within him, his mind blanking with memories of past abuse and present hurt. As such, when he begins to speak, he has no real clue as to what he's intending to say, just knowing he has to say something. Anything. After all. Owada wanted a conversation, now, didn't he? It would be impolite to not reply! Even if his words are not as carefully thought out and picked like he normally likes them to be…
He really should know better than to do such a thing by now…
"You, making conversation?! Ha! If this is what you consider conversation, then you can kindly never try it with me again! I assure you I will not miss it!"
Ah... that… that was not what he should have said, is it? It was… was unnecessarily cruel, wasn't it? Oh dear… of course, he knows that Owada is a biker and knows that it most definitely is not the worst thing the teen has ever heard, but he still feels freezing cold shame flood through him as silence descends between them. He hates being cruel, even towards someone as admittedly deplorable as Owada is. It goes against his sense of morality to be so uncaring! How unlike him, truly, to say such a thing… his stomach clenches at the realization, the anger that has been circling through him vanishing as the icy shame replaces it.
Kiyotaka is just about to speak again, wanting to apologize for his cruelty, but before he can even make the decision to try, he hears Owada growl again, this time the sound being accompanied by the sound of footsteps. Oh… oh dear. This isn't good... Kiyotaka has the presence of mind to put the iron safely off to the side, shutting the thing off for good measure. Something tells him that it would be best for that not to be within range for whatever is about to happen…
"You goddamn piece a' shit," is all the warning he gets before he feels his shoulder get yanked, his body getting slammed against the row of washing machines harshly.
Ahh, ow. That actually hurt, especially since his lower back was jammed into by the handle of one of the lower machines. He raises his wide eyes to meet angry lavender ones, fear filling him at the abject rage he finds there.
"You are a goddamn piece a' shit, ya know that?! Actin' all high an' mighty, like yer somehow better than the rest a' us, when I know the truth about you," Owada hisses, making Kiyotaka's eyes widen while his heart freezes with fear. Because… because…
Owada… knows? His… his secret? Kiyotaka doesn't have many secrets, likes to be open usually, other than… than the one, and… and he… h-how…
Kiyotaka can feel his breath speed up as his mind flips into overdrive. W-what? What? How?! How does Owada know?! And when did he learn it?! Who told him?! Or… or has he known all along? Was Kiyotaka just that naive to think he could actually keep such a thing a secret? Oh, God, Kiyotaka thinks he's going to be sick... it's all over now, isn't it? It's too much to hope that Owada will keep the secret to himself, and so the whole school will know by morning. The only reason Owada would keep it would be to blackmail Kiyotaka, but Kiyotaka is not the type to give into such dirty tactics, not even to keep his secret safe. He'd rather die than let himself be used so! Ah... it- it's a good thing he'd not allowed himself to get too close to anyone, isn't it? They'll all hate him now, he knows they will...
Before he can spiral any further, tears once again filling his eyes at the thought of all he's about to lose (not that he ever really had any of it in the first place, really), he hears Owada let out a dark, angry chuckle, the teen pressing him further into the washers, his feet lifting off the ground slightly with the force. But, for once, he's not upset at the pain. If anything, he almost welcomes it.
After all…
He deserves it.
"Yeah, that's right, I know. I know that, no matter how high an' mighty ya might act, y'ain't nothin' special. Yer just as worthless as the rest a' us, ain't ya? Hell, y'ain't even s'possed ta be at this school, are ya? The hell kinda talent is 'Moral Compass,' huh?! Ya prolly just got in 'cuz yer daddy bought ya a seat, like Togami's did. Not a rich type my ass. Yer nothin' special, Ishimaru. Not at all."
Oh.
Oh.
Oh.
Owada... Owada doesn't know. Not… not his actual secret. He just... he just thinks that Kiyotaka had bought his way into the school. Which is an utterly ridiculous thought! If Owada knew anything at all, he'd know how preposterous that is!
Kiyotaka wants to be relieved, but any relief is drowned out by the almost deafening return of his blinding anger. After all… how dare he?! How dare he assume such a thing about him?! Maybe he's right, maybe Kiyotaka doesn't deserve to be here, but it's not because he had to buy his way in! And the nerve, talking about not deserving to be at this school... pot, kettle much?!
The insinuation that he'd ever do something as immoral and dastardly as bribing his way into this school (he is not his grandfather) makes his blood boil, and before he can stop himself, he begins to hiss, voice low and deadly. He's never heard himself sound so dangerous, and he'd be afraid of it if he weren't feeling so endlessly angry.
"You are one to talk, Mondo Owada! Saying that I do not belong here, when you are the one that is marring this school's good name?! How in the world the headmaster would allow such- such... scum, such as yourself into this fine school, I will never know! You probably had your gang threaten him, as that's the only way I can imagine that a criminal such as yourself would ever be accepted into such a prestigious institution! You are the one who does not belong here, Owada, not me!"
Oh. Oh dear. He should not have said that. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he wishes he could take them back. And not just because he can see the burning rage in Owada's eyes, the biker looking angrier than he has ever seen him, or because he can feel the way Owada tightens his grip, bruising and painful. No, it's not the rage and fury he sees that makes him feel regret.
It's the momentary flash of hurt…
See, this is why he hates anger. It's such a useless, worthless emotion. It's an emotion that people use to tear others down, to take their own inadequacy and try to make it better, to use that as an excuse to abuse other people to elevate themselves. It's the emotion that has caused all of the heart ache and pain in his life, his classmates taking their own anger and pain out on him. He'd vowed to himself, years and years ago, that he'd never, ever let himself get so far gone that he'd try and tear another down in such a way. And thus far, he never has. He's gotten angry, yes, has burned with anger and hatred and rage. But he'd always forced it back down. He'd pushed it away, refusing to let it out, hating how it made him feel.
Well… until now, at least.
And he should have pushed the emotion away this time, too. Should have ignored it like he usually does and walked away, should never have tried to hurt Owada the way that he, himself, is hurting. But… with everything that has happened this last hour, with all the inadequacy and feelings of inferiority that he's been feeling since he got to this school, he just... he hadn't been able to. He'd been too weak… too pathetic. Owada's words had cut too deep and he'd been unable to ignore them like he usually would. And now... now, he is about to be murdered by the world's Ultimate Biker Gang Leader, and he can't even fault the teen! He'd been so awful, saying such terrible things!
Truly, Owada is right. He doesn't belong here. What kind of Moral Compass would ever say such horrible, terrible things?! He should march to the headmaster's office right now and tell them they must kick him out at once! It's what he deserves!
Before he can chastise himself any further, he hears Owada yell in rage, and he braces himself as he feels the larger teen throw him to the ground, his wrist aching as it breaks his fall. He doesn't think it's broken, he knows all too well what that feels like, but it's quite possible it's sprained.
Good.
He deserves the pain…
Still, despite how much he may deserve whatever Owada is about to do to him, he can't help the way his body forces himself back in fear, tears spilling down his face as he scrambles back desperately. The child inside of him is crying out, the memory of his bullies standing over him, jeering as they got ready to punish him for his very existence brought to the forefront of his mind. And as Owada advances on him, his face dark, Kiyotaka wonders what limits this teenager has.
If he has any at all…
(Is he about to die? Owada wouldn't actually kill him... would he?)
(Kiyotaka feels his heart stop at the voice in his head that whispers maybe he should. Maybe it would be better that way…)
(He's never been suicidal, wouldn't dare be so cowardly as to leave his father like that, but maybe... m-maybe...)
Owada stops his advance inches away from him, his fists clenched, and his teeth bared in rage. Kiyotaka can feel abject terror rush through him, but also... also something akin to relief. Even if Owada doesn't kill him, whatever the teen does has been more than earned. It's what he deserves, the price he must pay for his very existence. And… and part of him— the part that can think rationally and isn't lost in feelings of self-hatred and inadequacy— is concerned that he feels such a way. Surely… surely, it's not healthy to actually want to be hurt, is it?
But… but such a concern is unhelpful here, so he pushes it aside, knowing he has more important things to worry about, as he stares up at the overly irate Owada with large, watery eyes. But he doesn't try to beg for forgiveness. He doesn't try and argue against the punishment that he is about to receive. No matter what, he will accept whatever is about to happen like a man.
Even if he is so very, very afraid…
"You goddamn, motherfucking, absolute piece of dog shit! The fuck you think you are, saying such garbage ta me?! Ya think I don't know?! I ain't got any goddamn idea why that piece a' shit headmaster accepted me inta this fucking school, but I ain't exactly in the position ta turn him down! And like hell would I ever fucking ask ta be here! Ya think I like it, having everyone staring at me, judging me?! I can see you, the way you look at me, like I'm scum on the bottom of yer shoe. Ya think I like that?! Ya think I want that?! No! Fuck no! I would much rather be out on the fucking streets, just me an' my gang, no one daring ta fucking judge the likes of Mondo Fucking Owada! But no, I'm stuck here, with goddamn pieces a' shit like you, trying ta be something I'm not! I'd leave if I could, but ain't no one turn down an invite from Hope's Peak! I'd be an idiot ta do so!"
Owada takes a breath, eyes full of rage and hatred, but also... also something else. Something deeper. More primal. It hurts something deep in Kiyotaka's soul to see it, making him want to cry just by looking at it. Because… because he knows that emotion. He knows it intimately, feels it every goddamn day he's been alive. That helplessness, that feeling of inadequacy and inferiority... the knowledge that you don't deserve any of the good things you've been given... he knows it all too well.
He lives it.
Maybe he and Owada have more in common than he'd previously thought...
"But I ain't gotta take that shit, not from the likes a' you. 'Cuz I know you, Ishimaru. And you. Ain't. Nothing. Special. So, you can pretend all you like that you're better than me. Can lord over everyone else, thinking yer the top shit, too high and mighty ta deign the rest a' us with your godly presence. Can sleep comfortably in yer big bed, never knowing what it's like ta go to bed hungry, to not know when yer next meal is gonna come. You can pretend all you fucking like. It doesn't change the fact that we're in the same goddamn place, ain't we? Yer nothing, Ishimaru, absolutely nothing. And I'm gonna prove it to you. Have any last fucking words?"
Owada falls silent then, staring at Kiyotaka with his dark, angry eyes. Kiyotaka can see the way the other teen is shaking, though, can see how his fists are practically trembling, had heard the way his voice had kept switching between his low-class accent, and something… different. More formal, more educated, and more pissed off. More hurt. He knows, then, that whatever happens… it is what he has earned. It is the price of allowing himself to feel such horrible anger. How can he call himself moral when he'd hurt another person so badly? He knows Owada would rather die than admit it, but he knows hurt when he sees it. Just because the other is a criminal doesn't give him the right to hurt him in such a way. Not at all.
And so, despite the fear, Kiyotaka goes absolutely still. He takes a deep breath and looks up at Owada, staring the teen straight into his eyes.
And he smiles.
"I understand completely, Owada-kun. What I said to you is unforgivable. I will not dishonor you as to try and beg forgiveness. I will accept whatever punishment you deem fit. I deserve nothing less."
He closes his eyes as he finishes his speech, willing to accept the punishment, but too much of a coward to watch it as it happens. His voice had been soft again, as soft as it had been during that first meeting that he'd had with Owada, softer than he'd known was possible. It makes him feel weak for being so soft, but it doesn't matter. Not really. It's simply what Owada is owed, for the pain he has caused.
It… it is what he deserves…
Several seconds pass in silence as Kiyotaka remains on the ground, body tense and taut but face relaxed as he awaits the punishment that Owada is about to give him. He waits.
And waits.
And waits.
After about ten seconds pass, Kiyotaka opens his eyes, confusion filling him. Why... why isn't he being beat up? Is… is something wrong?
Confused, Kiyotaka looks up, and feels even more confusion at the dumbfounded and bewildered look upon Owada's face. What... why...? Kiyotaka doesn't understand, and so he furrows his brow, tilting his head to show his confusion.
The motion seems to break Owada out of the stupor he'd been in, but instead of rushing forward to hit him— like he would have expected— Owada actually... takes half a step back...? What in the world...?
"W-what? The fuck you talkin' 'bout?" Owada mumbles, sounding almost like he's out of his depths. Well, that's... that's puzzling. Has no one ever accepted their punishment before? Strange. Though… he supposes he understands it. Not many are willing to accept their wrong doings and take punishment where punishment is due, after all. He faces such people all the time, during his patrols... why such a thing would take a person as rough and wild as Owada aback, though, he has no clue. He'd think it would make things easier for him, really. He does decide to take advantage of the momentary reprieve to sit up properly, instead of the lounge he'd previously been in, holding onto his injured wrist lightly. He's still frowning in confusion, looking up at Owada with his head tilted, though.
Another moment passes in silence before Kiyotaka breaks it, voice almost hesitant as he speaks.
"Are you... alright? I… I meant what I said, you know. I was cruel, and as such, I deserve whatever punishment you deem fit. Are you perhaps thinking that I will report you to the headmaster? I assure you that I will not! No one else needs to be involved. I've never reported such a thing before, after all. You… y-you may do whatever you would like to me. I will not resist. That is- t-that is a Kiyotaka Ishimaru guarantee!"
He thinks he's being very reasonable here, honestly. So… so, why is Owada staring at him with what looks to almost be horror in his eyes? Is what he's saying truly so hard to believe? It's only right, he feels. Those who try and worm their way out of what they've brought upon themselves are vile, he feels. He'd rather die than do something so cowardly as that! Even as much of a coward as he knows he is, he'd never try and deny a punishment that he's earned. It's one of the many reasons why he rarely, if ever, reports what the children would do to him. After all, he'd earned their hatred because of what his grandfather had done.
It was only right.
… Right?
"Are you fuckin'... ya fuckin' serious right now? Ya do realize I'm talkin' 'bout beatin' the shit outta ya, not givin' ya a fuckin' detention, right? I'm abouta knock yer fuckin' lights out. Ain't ya... I don't know, scared?"
That makes Kiyotaka blink, frowning as the words process. Is he scared? Well, of course, but...
"Of course I am scared! I'm absolutely terrified! I do not like being in pain, I assure you! However… it is what I have earned. Is that... is that not correct? I hurt you-"
"Ya didn't fuckin' hurt me!" Owada abruptly interrupts, his anger flaring bright and hot once again. Kiyotaka flinches back, nodding hastily.
"O-of course! I meant, I insulted you, and as such, I have earned punishment. This is... this is how things works, is it not? I did something morally wrong, thus you, the injured party, has the right to punish me as you see fit. And if that is with violence and pain, then I will accept that with as much grace as I can. It is... it is only right," Kiyotaka stresses, feeling very lost.
This... this is correct… right? He'd been taught, all his life, that actions have consequences. He'd learned that firsthand, watching how far his grandfather had fallen. He'd watched his father silently accept the punishment, his mother crying but not doing anything to try and stop the angry attacks. And when the children had come to take their own— deserving— anger out on him, he'd accepted that, too. It was only right. It was... it was what he deserved.
What he had earned.
Right?
He... right?
Somehow, it seems, Owada doesn't agree with him. The teen is slowly shaking his head, his eyebrows deeply furrowed, looking at Kiyotaka like he'd just grown an extra head. Which is, he feels, quite undeserved.
"No, the fuck? No one deserves ta be beaten. I mean, shit, yeah, some people do, but that's like... rapists and murderers and shit. Not... not kids. The fuck you learn somethin' like that?" Owada pauses here, before his eyes widen, his breath growing shaky as he looks down at Kiyotaka, something… something different entering his eyes, something that Kiyotaka, for the life of him, cannot figure out. What… "W-wait… s-shit, yer dad doesn't... h-he doesn't hit ya, does he?"
Owada's tone of voice makes it seem like such a thing is the absolute worst thing in the world, the tone wavering for the first time all night. And Kiyotaka agrees! That's why his father would never dream of hurting him!
"Of course not! How dare you ask such a thing?! My father is an upright, moral man, and I am honored to have such a role model in my life! My mother, when she was alive, never did such a thing either!" he exclaims, voice loud again with his fervency. Owada blinks, seeming taken aback at his ferocity. He still doesn't seem to understand though, so Kiyotaka tries again. He… he doesn't know why he cares that Owada doesn't understand, but he… he strangely wants the teen to understand. To… to stop looking at him like that, like he… like there is something wrong with him…
"No, I was not beaten by my parents, if that is what you are thinking. Nor any other family member. It simply... it's what is logical. You do wrong, you get punished. It's how the world works. When people misbehave, I give them detention. That is a punishment. It's only fair that when I am cruel or hurtful, I should face punishment, too. I am not so arrogant as to assume I should not face the same consequences for my action as anyone else, I assure you! Just because your means of punishment are not the same as mine should not matter. I insulted you. You punish me. That... that is only fair."
This feels very backwards to him, all of a sudden. Here he is, actually arguing to get beaten! Ha! What a strange life he leads…
Owada seems to be thinking similarly, because he's shaking his head again, backing up slowly. All the rage from earlier seems to have vanished, the other teen just looking very perplexed, and— truthfully— a little disgusted. Well, that's unfair… Kiyotaka's only telling the truth!
… right?
"I ain't got any idea the fuck yer problem is, but I ain't got enough time in a day ta make sense a' that fuckin' bullshit. Ain't no one should be that acceptin' a' bein' beat. I don't know what kinda punishment kink ya got, man, but count me the fuck out."
Well! He never!
Kiyotaka stares in utter bewilderment as Owada turns and faces the door, striding away, seemingly done with this conversation. It's right as he's about to reach the exit that Kiyotaka snaps out of his stupor and stands, voice loud as he calls to the brash biker, offense rising within him. But also… also a kind of desperation. And he… he doesn't even know why… god…
"I beg your pardon?! I do not have a punishment... kink! I am not as depraved as that!" he exclaims, causing Owada to pause, his hand outstretched for the doorknob.
Slowly, the biker turns, a single eyebrow raised. It makes him flush to see, and he hurries to try and explain himself one last time. He can't let this biker think such a deplorable thing of him, after all! He… he just… he can't…
"I just meant... I just... I don't like to be hurt, alright? I- I never have. But sometimes... sometimes such things are just, well... inevitable. And no amount of begging or pleading will matter. You will be hurt, no matter what you may wish. And… and as such, when faced with such situations, a person can either shy away from what they have earned, like a coward, or… or they can accept it with dignity and grace. That is… is what I was raised to believe. When I anger someone, when I have hurt someone, I have earned whatever they do to me. I... I deserve their anger. I deserve their rage. I... I do. Don't… d-don't I?"
He hadn't meant to ask the question, to sound so unsure of himself, but once the words are out there, it's not like he can take them back. And so, he can only watch, throat suddenly thick for reasons he absolutely cannot begin to fathom, as Owada shakes his head slowly, eyebrows furrowing again, eyes full of an emotion that on anyone else he'd call pity.
But… but on Owada? It looks less like pity and more like... like…
Sympathy...
"Nah. Ya don't. Ya may be a tightass with no sense a' humor, but ya don't deserve ta be beat. Not even with how goddamn annoyin' ya are. Now, I'm shit at things like this, so I'm gonna leave now. Same rules as before, I ain't gonna bring it up if you don't. But, like... maybe ya should talk ta someone 'bout this shit, someone who actually knows what they're talkin' 'bout. Hell, bet Fujisaki can talk some sense inta ya. Just... everythin' ya just said, 'bout deservin' ta be punished? Is fuckin' wrong, and whoever tried ta con ya inta believin' that shit is a goddamn liar. I may be a fuckin' biker, but even I know that shit. I can admire a dude who can take a beatin' with dignity, but there's a difference 'tween that and actu'ly thinkin' ya deserve ta be beat. But whatever, dude. Just... whatever."
And with that, Owada sweeps out of the room, his leather duster billowing behind him as he moves, the biker not even bothering to look back. The door shuts with a silent click, leaving the room silent and still once more.
Kiyotaka cannot help the way he gapes at the doorway, his mind reeling. He... dear lord, he'd never have expected to hear that, especially from Owada of all people! It... he... he must be wrong. Right? Or he's lying, or... or...
B-because Kiyotaka must deserve it. He just... he must. After all the pain and suffering he's faced, to think that maybe… just maybe… he doesn't? It... he... it does not compute. It does not make sense. It just... it doesn't.
And Kiyotaka knows that it would never, ever be alright if such a thing happened to anyone else! Of course not! That is why he always steps in to stop other people from being bullied, no matter what they may have done! Punishment isn't meant to be so harsh, not to the average person. Punishment is things like detention and suspension, or sometimes more extreme measures like expulsion, not… not being beaten.
But that doesn't apply to him. It never has. He's the one exception that proves the rule. He deserves the pain. He deserves the beatings. He just... he has to, otherwise... otherwise, why did no one stop the children from doing such horrible things to him? Why did no one ever care when he'd burst into tears, begging them to leave him be, begging for a reprieve? Why... why would they do such horrible, terrible things to him if he did not, on an intrinsic level, deserve such a thing?
He knows the teachers knew. He knows that they saw. He'd told them, a couple times, back when he'd been naive enough to believe someone would care. They'd never done anything, never tried to stop the children from their cutting remarks and their harassment, and later their physical abuse. 'Grow up and stop telling such horrible lies,' they'd snap at him, eyes harsh and cold. You deserve this, he'd hear their eyes tell him, looking deep into the heart of him and finding him... lacking. He could always fight the words when he was bringing up an injustice against someone else, knowing that it did matter for them, that for them it wasn't okay, but for him... for him he'd always just assumed it was true. That he did, somehow, deserve it. After all, if he didn't… if he didn't, then why would he be tormented so? Why... why...
He... he...
Kiyotaka can feel the tears falling down his face again, soft and silent, but he can't make them stop. Everything he's been pushing down for years comes up again, and he wants to crawl into a corner and cry for the rest of his life. Because… because h-he…
He'd never told anyone about the abuse he'd faced as a child. He didn't have to. All the adults in his life already knew, after all. He knows his parents could see the pain he was in, knew they hated it dearly, but they could never do anything to stop it either. Not when they were just as hated as he was. His mother— rest her soul— would hold him when she could, shushing his tears and telling him how brave and incredible he was. How upright and moral. How he was a hundred times the person any of those bullies were. He would cling to her words as hard as he could, childish naivety and ignorance shielding him well.
When she died, however, and his father became the sole provider for their entire family, he… well. He'd suddenly been on his own. His father would try his best to help, but the man was so spread thin that he was lucky to even just see his father, let alone be comforted by him.
And Kiyotaka…. Kiyotaka knew that seeing him in pain hurt his father, the police officer feeling helpless to protect his own son, hating to see his bruises and his tears. And so… and so, he had begun to get better at hiding it. At hiding the pain, and the fear, and the bruises. He'd even tried to hide his broken wrist when he had been twelve, only accepting that he couldn't when his wrist swelled to twice its normal size and ached whenever he'd even lightly moved it. They'd eventually had to take him to a small clinic well outside of town, their ancient car whining the entire way, just to get it properly bandaged, something that had put them back months. After that, however, he had become even more determined to handle everything on his own, refusing to be such a burden to his father again.
Kiyotaka cannot pinpoint the exact moment, however, that he'd decided that the punishments he was given were not only earned, but deserved. That it was right and moral for him to be treated in such a way. It just... he doesn't really know.
Well... maybe, if he allows himself to dwell on it, to genuinely think on the matter, if he were allowed to think about such things, he- he thinks... well. He thinks it probably was around the time his mother had died.
And he… he hadn't.
It just wasn't fair, he feels. It wasn't fair that she— a woman who was so kind and wonderful and utterly amazing— would die while he— a horrible and disgraceful waste of a human being— hadn't. H-he doesn't want to die! He likes being alive, thank you very much! A dead person can't become Prime Minister and clear his family name, after all!
But... b-but...
Oh, he doesn't know. This is all worthless, isn't it? What can he possibly hope to achieve by going down this path, in such a public location, no less? What he does and doesn't deserve doesn't matter. It just… it doesn't. It can't. And besides, Owada doesn't know the whole story. Sure, he says that Kiyotaka doesn't deserve such a thing, but how can he really know? Even the biker had conceded that some people do, in fact, deserve to be hurt. Owada just doesn't realize that he is, in all actuality, one such person. If he knew... if he ever found out the truth... well.
Then he'd understand.
Until then, until his secret comes to light, he'll just have to be careful. He let way too much slip tonight, let Owada see too close to the heart of him. Sure, he'd seen a bit too much of Owada's insides, too, cracking the gruff exterior just a smidge to catch a glimpse of the boy inside, but still. It was too risky, being so open. He has to be more careful in the future. Especially around that lavender eyed boy, whose stare seems to always cut right to the heart of him, like he can see inside of Kiyotaka and see all he has hidden within him. He'll have to be very, very careful around him, indeed…
Kiyotaka likely would have stayed in that spot the rest of the night, staring blankly at the ground, if the warning bell signifying five minutes until curfew hadn't just gone off, causing him to jolt harshly. Oh, shoot! He hadn't realized it had gotten so late! With a sad look at his regretfully still wrinkly uniforms, he hastily shoves them all into his basket and hurries out of the room, needing to get back to his dorm before curfew hits. The last thing he needs after this disaster of a night is to have to give himself a detention, on top of everything else!
Luckily, he makes it back to his room with plenty of time to spare, since the laundry is so close to his dorm, his body relaxing as he finally enters his room, the one place where he can fully relax. He's regretful that he'd not been able to iron all of his uniforms, but at least he'd gotten one jacket ironed... he'll just have to head back sometime after classes tomorrow and finish the job then. Maybe he'll do it during lunch or dinner, so he doesn't have to waste time when he should be studying to do the task that he already should be done with…
Realizing the futility of dwelling on it all, he just puts his laundry off to the side, folding the wrinkled cloth as accurately as ever. He feels so exhausted right now, despite having barely done any physical activity since his morning exercise, but he doesn't try and question it. He just heads into the bathroom, brushes his teeth efficiently, washes the grime and dried tears off his face, and returns to his bedroom. He doesn't bother to take a shower because he's not entirely sure he deserves something so wondrous right then. He removes the clothes he is wearing, folds them carefully too, and get into bed, not bothering with night clothes. He usually doesn't wear them during the warmer months anyway, his briefs enough for him to sleep in. And while it is getting colder out, it's not cold enough yet to require night clothes. Besides, it's not like he has a roommate or anything. He's suddenly very grateful for that fact...
It takes him a lot longer to fall asleep that night than it usually does, but eventually he finally succumbs, after an hour and a half of tossing and turning.
And if, when he wakes hours later, heart racing and wild, the image of lavender eyes full of compassion and sympathy turning dark and angry with abject hatred once their owner learns his deadly secret, the memory of a dream plaguing him long into his waking hours, well...
No one else has to know.
He's good at hiding unpleasant things, after all.
I say this every chapter, but poor Taka. :-(
As an afterschool teacher for elementary school kids, and as someone who wants to be a school counselor to help kids, can I say that writing and editing Taka talking about his abuse was so, so heart-breaking? Ugh. I hate it when teachers are cruel to kids, since that sort of thing can be so very damaging, to young kids especially. And bullying is totally abuse. And can be super damaging.
I would also like to note that Taka's mentality is absolutely not a good one, nor is it one I advocate. He's just gone through a lot of trauma and, in his mind, it makes sense for him to have earned it. He has to, because otherwise the injustice of it all would eat him up. Children (and adults) can learn to justify some truly horrific things when they have to, sadly.
But that doesn't mean it's right, or true, or at all accurate. No one deserves to be abused, no matter what. Not even rapists and murderers, but that's another topic I won't get into. Mondo's bafflement and almost horror at the idea is more what I believe and will get explored in greater depth later on in this story. Mondo still doesn't quite understand Taka yet, but he's starting to get an idea, and it's not an idea he likes. Despite his rough exterior, Mondo strikes me as one of those guys with a heart of gold, who has a strong moral compass, even if it's a bit skewed and not as all-encompassing as Taka's. I assure you, once he learns about the trauma that Taka has gone through? He will not take it lightly, I promise that.
Also, on a lighter note… Mondo's middle name is totally 'Fucking,' ha. Ya know… if Japanese people did middle names and all.