20 The Problem With Mondo
"Mondo, are you… a-are you sure you're okay? I- I mean…"
Mondo stiffens even more at the soft, slightly shaking words, eyes glaring at the floor with all the intensity he has within him. The room is slowly filling up, more and more of their fucking classmates piling into this shitty little kitchen (not that it's actually shitty or little, it's the most elaborate kitchen he's ever been in, but who fucking /cares/), all of them giving him judging fucking looks. It makes his shoulders tense, his heart racing with the knowledge that they all know how fucking /weak/ he is now, everything in him /screaming/ that he has to leave right the fuck now before this shit gets even worse.
But he can't leave, that would make this shit even /worse/, make him look even /weaker/, and so he's fucking stuck. Stuck in this goddamn room, forced to be around his stupid fucking classmates who he /hates/, forced to do whatever bullshit /bonding/ Hina wants them to do, while… while knowing quite intimately that he's fucked everything up with /Taka/ and ruined their entire goddamn relationship in one fell swoop. All because of his anger. All because of /him/, him and his stupidity. Him and his worthlessness. Him and his… /him/ness.
Stupid Mondo fucking Owada, incapable of getting close to people, pushing them away because he can't handle a little /vulnerability/. His first 'girlfriend' told him that. That she couldn't stand being with him because he didn't know how to be 'vulnerable.' He was only fucking twelve, what did she fucking expect?! What does everyone fucking /expect/ from him?! Can't they see he's fucking trying, that he's doing all he fucking can?! Do they not care?! God, why… why can't this be enough?! Why the fuck can't he ever be /enough/?! Why does /Taka/ want shit from him without fucking telling him what he wants?! Why is he supposed to be a mind reader, a calm and collected confidant, someone who knows exactly what to do all the goddamn time?! Why… why do people want shit from him he's incapable of giving… why can't he be capable of giving the shit people want from him… w-why can't he… he just… j-just…
"M-Mondo? Did… did you hear me?"
Mondo looks up harshly when he feels a soft hand touch his arm, heart racing, feeling so fucking stupid for his goddamn /hope/ when he sees that it's just Chi. Not… not Ta- no one. No one. Why would anyone be concerned for him? He's a fucking jackass, the worst fucking person in the entire goddamn world. Why would anyone waste their concern on him?
"Leave it, Chi. Don't wanna fucking talk," Mondo grunts, low and angry, looking away from the dude and glaring at the floor again. He can feel Chi's hazel eyes staring at him, through him, and he fucking /hates it/. Can't the dude get a clue and leave him the fuck alone?! Doesn't he know that if he hangs around Mondo, Mondo will just fucking /destroy him/?! Kill him, like he fucking kills everything?! Shit, he… he shouldn't fucking be here, he shouldn't… s-shouldn't…
"O-oh… okay, Mondo, if you… y-you say so… but if you would like to talk, I'm here. Okay?" Chi says softly, looking at him through his eyelashes. It makes something in his gut clench to see, an old, remembered feeling from when he thought Chi was a chick. Sometimes… sometimes he wishes Chi was actually a chick. Then he could pursue the dude, maybe get over his fucking nonsense with Taka and go back to being just friends with the kid. But Chi ain't a chick, and Mondo supports that. 'Sides. Chi's a good friend. Prolly his best friend now, ever since Leon started avoiding him a little while ago. Dude doesn't like it when he's all moody. Guess he was right originally. Leon only likes hanging out with him because he's 'tough.' Take that away…
Mondo goes back to glaring at the floor, ignoring everything as he waits for this stupid fucking meeting or whatever to start already. He distantly notices that Naegi and Kirigiri Jr. are standing around by— no one, shit, who cares. It doesn't matter. Maybe the kid will become best fucking friends with them now. Why would Mondo care? He doesn't. At all. Fuck you for thinking otherwise.
Finally, a handful of agonizing minutes later, Chi constantly shooting him worried glances that test his fucking patience, Hina decides it's time to start the goddamn meeting. /Finally/.
"Hi guys! Okay, so thanks for coming! I'm sure you're all wondering why I called you all here, but first, I just really wanted to thank everyone for showing up! This is going to be so much fun!"
Mondo mentally snorts at that assessment, highly doubting that it will be 'fun' at all. After all, every single fucking classmate of theirs showed up today, for reasons only god knows. Even fucking /Enoshima/ is here, looking all bored and high maintenance and shit, sometimes looking at him and fucking /giggling/. Ugh. If there is one classmate that he dislikes the most, it's fucking her. Even Togami is slightly more tolerable than her. At least Togami doesn't pretend to be anything other than a raging douchebag. Enoshima is the epitome of all the fucking 'mean girls' he knew in middle and elementary school and fuck does he hate chicks like that. More so since he can't even fucking do anything about their rude fucking behavior, since they're chicks and all. At least he can punch Togami if he gets too annoying. He might go to jail for it, but it's an option.
Fukawa is also there, staring at her fucking 'master' in the most disgusting way possible. Jesus Christ, Mondo can understand role-play shit, but can't they fucking keep it in the bedroom? Mondo seriously doesn't wanna see their power dynamics at play, thanks. Neither does he want to see Ludenberg and Yamada's, but at least they're staying far away from Mondo. Prolly 'cuz Mondo almost punched Yamada the other day for being a disgusting pig about chicks again, when he'd been on his way back from an early exercise session with Chi. Who the fuck cares, honestly. Yamada may be a good fucking artist, but he's a disgusting excuse for a human being. Ludenberg too, honestly, but she's a chick so she gets a pass.
Anyway, with all these fucking classmates, he doubts there's gonna be any 'fun' to be had today. They'll be lucky if they don't burn the whole school to the ground. At least it's just their class, not any upper grades. The upperclassmen at this school are fucking weird, Mondo's gotta say. Especially the one-eyed Yakuza one. Mondo knows he doesn't fucking belong at this school, but why the actual fuck would they ever invite a literal gang member to join…? Mondo doesn't have a fucking clue. Hope's Peak is fucking weird as shit.
Mondo crosses his arms sullenly as Hina keeps going with her stupid ass speech, listening with half an ear as she bounces on the balls of her feet, clearly super fucking 'pumped.' She keeps shooting him worried looks every few moments, though, which makes him even more tense.
"So! I'm sure you all know how we have the Winter Festival in a few weeks, right? And Taka told us last week that our class is expected to provide something for the festival, right? Well! I asked the Headmaster and he said that we can help provide some dessert for a bake sale! I know a lot of you guys won't know how to bake, though, so I figured I could teach you! It'll be fun!"
Ugh. A bake sale? That's why they're here? Shit, isn't Mondo doing enough for this fucking festival?! Since he and Taka have been so close these days, Mondo's been tagging along to the 'committee' meetings Taka attends, accidentally making him an honorary committee member or something. He's mostly been zoning out at the meetings, granted, mind wandering as Taka takes control of everything, eyes firmly on the kid as he's in his element, so fucking bright and vivid.
He did have one idea, though, that the headmaster actually seemed interested in. He'd been asked a couple weeks before if he had any ideas, and while he'd not really thought about it much, he'd carelessly suggested having a dance area with a live DJ, maybe some shitty punch, like would happen in some of Daiya's shitty American teen movies. He hadn't thought the headmaster would actually like the idea, let alone put /him/ in charge of it. Now he's gotta fucking contact a DJ, look up decoration ideas and submit them to the headmaster by the end of the week, contact some minor catering businesses and shit… it's all very overwhelming, even though he does shit like this for his gang all the time. It's just… different doing it for a legit reason for once, he guesses. Taka had been helping him with it, before- shit. Never mind, never /fucking/ mind.
Anyway… Mondo guesses he'd been right about what they're gonna be doing in the kitchen. While he finds it bullshit that he's gotta help out more for the festival, he figures it could be worse. His first attempt at baking failed terribly, but he supposes it hadn't been the worst thing ever. It had even been kinda interesting, figuring out how much of each ingredient to add. And yeah, he'd fucking failed hard at it, but he thinks if he tries again, he might do better… maybe. He'd never do it himself, baking not exactly a 'manly' activity, but if it's something they're all required to do, then… well. No one can fucking judge him for it, huh?
With that in mind, Mondo focuses on Hina more, listening a bit more intensely than he normally would, thinking it might be best to know what is expected of them, and shit like that.
"So! I was hoping we could work on this all together! Before we begin, does anyone have any previous experience with baking? Anything will help, so don't worry if it's not a lot!" Hina giggles, swaying lightly back and forth. Ugh. Sickening. She sure has been super fucking happy lately, ever since she started dating Sakura. And don't get him wrong, he's super fucking happy for the chicks, just… shit. Fucking hurts seeing her like that, knowing that he… h-he… s-shit, he's gotta stop thinking about it. About… about /him/. He's already pathetic enough.
But then he can't fucking /not/ think about that bastard, because of /course/ his hand would be the first one up. Of /course/ he knows shit about baking. Mondo knows that. Ta… /he/ had told him about that once, a couple weeks ago. Absently, quietly, back when things were fucking /good/ between them. Rare as that fucking is. The knife in his chest stabs deeper at the reminder, and he resolutely keeps his eyes down, not looking at /him/, not sure he could handle it. God, he's so weak…
"Oooh, Taka! You know how to bake?" he hears the bubbly swimmer ask, sounding intrigued. It makes Mondo's hands clench, breath quickening. He can see Chi look at him from the corner of his eyes, a small frown on the dude's face, but luckily he doesn't ask. Good. Fucking… good. He really doesn't wanna explode right now… talk about embarrassing…
"Ah! Yes, Hina, I do! Sort of! My mother was an excellent chef, before- a-ah. Before she died! We would always bake together when I was younger, and while I've not had much of a chance to bake since, I always make her cookies on the anniversary of her death to place on her grave!"
Shit. Shit, the kid is really… really fucking telling the whole class this shit, ain't he…? Part of him feels a stab of selfish pain at the thought, having assumed Ta- the kid telling him that was… he doesn't know, /special/ or something. But if he's able to tell the whole class that shit, no fucking problem… shit. Shit, whatever, who fucking cares. Kid can tell whatever fucking 'secrets' he wants. Not like their relationship has ever mattered or anything. Who fucking cares.
Still… despite his selfish anger, he can't help but look up at Ta- shit. /Him/, wondering if he… if he's /okay/. He… he knows how much that shit affects the kid, knows that it… it hurts. Even eight years after she died, it still… still fucking hurts…
But looking at him /hurts/, so he quickly looks away, unable to handle it. Whatever. Even if he was hurting, he wouldn't want Mondo helping out. Maybe Naegi or Kirigiri Jr. can help him. It's not Mondo's fucking problem anymore. Mondo does his best to mask the agony the thought brings up, knowing it's stupid. This is all stupid. So very, fucking… stupid…
"Oh... well, at least you have some experience! Maybe you can teach us one of your mom's recipes someday, if you wouldn't mind? That would be super cool! Either way, would you mind helping me teach everyone the basics of baking? Like, proper procedure and stuff? It's always better to have two accounts than only one!"
Oh, well ain't that just fucking /peachy/. The one person Mondo wants to see the least is of /course/ gonna be leading this goddamn nightmare. And Mondo has no hope that the kid will reject the offer. He's so fucking /good/ and /kind/ and /helpful/ that of /course/ he's gonna say yes. And now Mondo's gonna hafta pretend he's fucking fine, listening as his /former kyoudai/ (because why not, he fucked up earlier, it would be fucking fitting for them to no longer be kyoudai, /why not/) teaches them all about fucking /baking/. Something he once tried (and failed) to do as a way to show the kid how much he fucking cares about him. But why would that matter? That he cares? That he /loves/? It's not enough. What he had to offer… /has/ to offer… it's never /enough/. He… he'll never be enough…
_God, he wishes he could be enough…_
And, like he fucking thought…
"Of course, Hina! It would be an honor!" the kid exclaims, sounding as happy and enthusiastic as ever. Like he's not dying inside at the thought of their broken relationship. Like it doesn't matter to him at all. Like he doesn't /fucking care/. Because why would he? It's not like they ever meant anything to one another. Not like Mondo means /anything/ to that bastard. Not like… l-like…
"Oh, yay! This is gonna be sooo fun!" Hina bubbles, her enthusiasm burning him. He's almost glad when fucking Togami chimes in with his usual bullshit, glad that /someone/ is objecting to this shit show since he fucking can't.
"As exciting as I'm sure this is, is this a mandatory activity from us? I'm sure that if we need desserts for this festival, I can hire perfectly good caterers. Surely, we don't have to waste our time learning such asinine things..." Togami drawls, pretentious bastard through and through. But it is a good point. Why /can't/ Togami throw his endless fucking money around to help them out for once? Let them escape this goddamn nightmare, not forced to spend more time together than necessary. They already have to spend every goddamn day together in every fucking class. Isn't that plenty enough?!
But no. Of course /he/ wouldn't fucking agree with that… god fucking damn him.
"Togami-kun, that is beside the point! While we could purchase desserts to fulfill our requirement, that is not the purpose of such a thing! Creating a festival booth is a great way to get to know your fellow classmates, as well as to create bonds between us all! While I had not been informed of such a thing before, I trust Hina when she says that the headmaster wishes for us to provide baked desserts for the festival!" the kid states firmly, prolly doing something stupid like nodding enthusiastically to prove his goddamn point. Bastard.
"Oh, how wonderful," the billionaire snarks, though he doesn't seem inclined to provide any further comment. Oh, for the love of god… seriously?! Togami is fucking just… just /giving up/?! Shit, he doesn't actually wanna do this shit, does he?! God fucking dammit… is the whole fucking world out to get him today?! Is that it?! Is it 'make Mondo fucking Owada as miserable as fucking possible' day or something?!
This point gets fucking proven when fucking /Enoshima/ opens her fucking mouth and spews her goddamn bullshit… Jesus goddamn Christ.
"Wait, I thought you were organizing the festival, Taka? Sooo... why wouldn't you know what our class assignment is? You don't think the headmaster doesn't trust you, do you? Oh dear..." Enoshima calls out, uncaring bitch she is. Mondo looks up to glare at her, hating her fake ass bullshit. She's looking at the kid with wide eyes, the fakest frown he's ever seen on her perfectly made-up face. She may be considered the 'Ultimate Model,' but Mondo doesn't get the appeal. Yeah, she's fucking hot, but that's all. Her personality ruins that shit the second she opens her goddamn mouth.
But of course the kid can't see that shit. Mondo doesn't look at him, but he can tell by his words that he likely has fallen for her 'good girl' shtick. Ugh.
"I am sure that is not the reason, Enoshima-kun! There is quite a lot about the festival that I am not privy to, as no one person can organize the entire thing, I assure you! I am sure that there is no nefarious meaning behind my lack of former knowledge!" the kid claims, though Mondo can hear a tension in his voice, betraying his words a little.
"Hmm... if you're sure, Taka! You'd know the headmaster more than me, I'm sure he trusts you just fine! And you can call me Junko, ya know, we're all friends here! Speaking of friends, where's your boyfriend? I thought you two were, like... attached at the hip or something! But now you're, like, all separate and stuff! You two didn't have a fight, did you? Because that would just be sooo tragic! You two make the cutest couple! Puhuhu!"
What. The. /Fuck/?!
What the absolute goddamn fuck did that goddamn /bitch/ just say? Boy… boyfriend?! Have a goddamn /fight/?! A /couple/?! Shit! Does she think being a chick will fucking protect her when she says such absolute /bullshit/?! Because she-! She… she's prolly right, shit, but-! That shit, it… it's fucking bullshit, it… it's… yeah, they might be fucking /fighting/, but that gives her no fucking right to say that bullshit! They ain't fucking friends, they ain't… she ain't got any right, she… f-fuck…
Mondo can't stop the growl he lets out as he glares at that little bitch. He can hear other gasps around him, people looking between him and that bitch, which just makes him feel even /angrier/, shit. She ain't the first person to mistake his and- and the kid's relationship, but he fucking /hates it/ when people do that. Especially now when they ain't /shit/ to one another. When everything is broken as shit. S-shit…
"I am afraid you are mistaken, Enoshima-kun! Mondo and I are simply friends, nothing more! As for anything else, I do not see how such a thing would be any business but our own! I would thank you to respect our privacy!"
Something about the kid calling them friends and nothing more makes his stomach clench, something inside of him rebelling at the /true/ statement. They… they are friends, nothing more. Maybe a lot less, now, given… well. Given everything. They've never been anything /more/ to one another, even the shit they've been doing together just an extension of their close friendship, nothing else. So, it- it shouldn't make him ache inside to hear the kid call them that. It shouldn't. It fucking /shouldn't/.
Pushing it aside, /again/, he listens as the bitch gasps the most fake ass gasp that he's ever heard, turning to glare at her as she lifts a perfectly manicured hand to cover her mouth, eyes wide in obviously fake horror. God, she's so fucking /fake/… how anyone gets fooled by her, he doesn't fucking know… but she better fucking /shut her goddamn mouth/, or not even her being a goddamn chick will protect her, he swears to Christ…
"Oh! Oh, I'm sososo sorry, Taka! I could have /sworn/ you two were, like... totally a thing! I mean, it's not like guys are ever so close to their guy friends, right? I was positive you two must have been, like... totally physical and stuff. Are you sure? 'Cause I was positive you were, like, gay or something, and being so close to another guy when you're gay can only mean one thing, right? But, ya know, it's great to see you two break the stereotype! Go you!"
Okay, ya know what?! Fuck the ever-loving /shit/ out of that goddamn, pathetic little /bitch/! Where the goddamn /fuck/ does she get off saying that goddamn /bullshit/?! Does she think it's /funny/?! Does she think it's fucking /cute/?! God, even if they fucking /were/ together (which they're not, they're fucking /not/) it ain't no one's goddamn business but their own! Certainly not a goddamn bitch's, like her! A-and… and even if /Taka/ were fucking gay (_he is, he is, you fucking /know/ he is_), then… then that's his fucking business too! No one has the fucking right to out anyone, especially not his fucking kyoudai! Dear /god/ he's gonna make her fucking regret she was /ever fucking born/-
However. As he is stalking over towards her, slamming his hands angrily against the wall he'd been leaning against to get more momentum, his eyes… his eyes accidentally slide passed… passed /Taka/, not meaning to, but just wanting… w-wanting…
And he feels his body halt without question, without /thought/, when he sees the kid hold up his hand in his direction, not looking at him but clearly meaning the motion /for/ him, shaking his head sharply once. It catches Mondo off guard, not having expected that, and he can only stare dumbly at the kid as he apparently handles this shit.
Because why not, right? Ain't like he's a goddamn, motherfucking /biker gang leader/, feared and respected by half of Japan. He totally can just be fucking /controlled/ by some spiky haired, motherfucking /hall monitor/ who has a stick so far up his ass it's a miracle he can even walk straight. He's so /whipped/ that he follows the jackass's commands without a single word or question, the kid not even deigning to fucking /look at him/, but fuck him if he doesn't do exactly as the kid wants, all the goddamn time, right? Right?!
Fuck him. Fuck him, and fuck this school, and fuck /every goddamn fucking thing/, fuck! Fuck!
(He still doesn't move though. Because even despite his anger, despite his rage… he still will do exactly as Taka wants, all the fucking time. And they aren't even shit to one another anymore. G-god… god, what the fuck has that kid done to him…)
"It is improper to talk about such personal things in a public venue, Enoshima-kun! I would thank you to cease doing so immediately! Now, we are not here to stand around and have idle chit-chat! We are here to learn the basics of baking, so that we may showcase a booth worthy of our prestigious institution! If you are not able to do such a thing, then I must ask you to leave, so that the rest of us may proceed without further interruption! Am I understood?!"
Okay. Great. Still… still doing this goddamn farce, huh? Wonderful. What joy. Mondo couldn't be fucking happier, having to stay in this goddamn kitchen for longer, listening as /Taka/ lectures them all about proper baking techniques, or whatever, something he once would have relished but now feels cold and disinterested by. He… he always knew this shit would happen, knew he'd have to spend the rest of his goddamn life watching the kid live his life without him, telling himself he'd be okay with it, that it would be /okay/, but… but…
But now that it's here, now that he has to actually do this, knowing that everything is broken, knowing that everything he and Taka shared is ruined and shattered and gone, knowing that… t-that Taka /doesn't fucking care/, knowing that Taka is just going to /move the fuck on, forget about him, forget about everything they fucking shared/… he… he…
He listens— chest cold— as Enoshima replies back, his eyes blank on the floor. He feels Chi come over to him, eyes sad and pitying, but Mondo doesn't even care. He's never felt less like himself, weak as goddamn /shit/, but he… he doesn't know how to fucking fix it… no wonder he'd never fucking make it as a carpenter. He can't fix shit.
"Jeez, no need to get your panties in a bunch! I was just saying. Besides, like I said, we're all friends here, yeah? I know you guys have your group chat— which you all /rudely/ left me and Mukuro out of, by the way, but that's okay! We don't mind, and I'm far too busy for such things anyway. I was just trying to make conversation, ya know? And I'm worried 'bout you, Taka! You just look so /sad/ and full of /despair/... puhuhu! But if you just wanna bake, then okay! Let's bake!" Enoshima trills, grinning her stupid fucking grin, winking as she shoots them a peace sign.
That seems to be the end of that, an awkward and tense silence filling the kitchen following that bullshit interruption. Mondo doesn't fucking care. He doesn't think he'd care if a goddamn fire broke out and burned the entire school to the ground. Let it. Let him burn in the goddamn flames, skin crackling and melting. At least then he wouldn't have to deal with this fucking bullshit any longer.
But no, nothing like that happens. Unfortunately. Instead, Hina comes over and begins babbling about baking and shit, asking Taka if he wants to help her, which of course the kid agrees to, he already fucking agreed to it, /fuck/. He listens with a disinterested heart as Taka frantically agrees, sounding enthusiastic and bright and fucking /happy/, and as much as Mondo wants to feel happy about it, wants to be happy that Taka is happy, he just… he…
He can't. He can't, he can't, he fucking /can't/.
It hurts so fucking much to listen to Taka lecture at them, as bright and vivid as he always is, while knowing he'll never get to see the kid like that again, not personally. Not intimately. He lost that right because he was a fucking idiot, let his anger control him /again/, let Taka see the pathetic monster that lives under his skin. He has no hope that Taka will forgive him for whatever he did. He doesn't even really know what he did wrong, but he knows it must have been truly terrible. It had to have been since it's him and he fucks everything up. And Taka… Taka hasn't looked at him even once since they entered this fucking kitchen, which tells him everything, really.
This is what he wanted. This is what he knew had to happen. And yeah, it's a bit too early, Taka still doesn't appreciate how incredible he is, but… but he knows the kid is growing too reliant on him, trusts him a bit too much, so he knows it's best for Taka to be away from him. To stop tainting the kid, turning him into something different. Something /wrong/, like Mondo is wrong. Immoral.
At one point the two ask if anyone else has any experience baking, and Mondo remains silent, staring sightlessly at the ground. He doesn't feel red eyes upon him like he usually would, judging him for the 'lie of omission,' or whatever the fuck the kid calls it, and he tries not to break down entirely. It's so stupid, feeling like this. Feeling like his world is shattering apart when it's entirely his fault. His da always told him he's a fucking fuck up who can't do shit right. It was true when he was six and it's still true now that he's sixteen. A decade of time, leaving no changes whatsoever. No wonder Taka hates him now. No wonder he feels this fucking pathetic. No wonder.
He listens with half an ear as the pair continues to explain baking shit to them. Shit like how to use a mixer, why you should always fucking preheat, making sure to add the ingredients exactly as they're stated on the recipe… simple fucking bullshit that any idiot would be able to understand, god fucking damn these condescending bastards. Like he couldn't figure out this shit himself. Like he doesn't understand what any of this means. But he sees the swimmer darting glances at him out of the corner of his eye, and he knows who these simple fucking instructions are for. Damn them. Damn /all/ of them.
And then that fucking swimmer decides it would be a good fucking idea for them to bake shit together. Because /that's/ a smart fucking idea. Jesus /fucking/ Christ…
"It's a sugar cookie recipe! It's one of the most basic recipes to make! If you guys can follow this, it shouldn't be hard to follow the other recipes! Many cookie recipes are just a variation of this one anyway. You guys can work in pairs to make things a little easier, too. Just make sure you follow the instructions exactly, okay? Yay! This is gonna be so much fun!"
Hina is grinning at them brightly, seeming to think it's the best fucking idea ever, while their dumb as shit classmates just side eye one another, dumbasses through and through. It pisses Mondo the fuck off since it ain't like this shit is fucking rocket science. Goddamn, what is wrong with these people?! It's just following a goddamn recipe, the instructions written plainly for them all to see! What, can they not fucking read?! Mondo may have fucked up his first ever attempt at baking, but he fucking /refuses/ to fail again. This shit ain't hard. He's not a goddamn /moron/. He knows how to do this, knows how to fucking /read/. Well. With his glasses, which he hates wearing in public around other people, but /still/. Anyone with half a brain could figure this shit out and it pisses him the fuck off that these goddamn assholes think he can't. He doesn't care that no one said that to him. He doesn't care that no one is even looking at him, other than Chi, who looks as worried as he has all afternoon. No, he doesn't care that no one said that /he/ couldn't do this shit.
It was implied. And he fucking /hates it/.
Finally— after the goddamn silence stretches on too fucking long, no one man enough to speak first— Mondo has had fucking /enough/. With a loud, exasperated sigh, Mondo storms over to the front of the kitchen, ignoring the pounding in his heart as he gets closer and closer, far too quick for his liking. He resolutely doesn't look away from the swimmer, even after feeling scarlet eyes upon him for the first time, knowing that he fucking /can't/. He can't see the look on that face, can't see the goddamn /disgust/. This is already so fucking hard, harder than it should be, and he can't make it worse, he /can't/. Once he finally reaches the front, he roughly grabs one of the sheets the chick is holding, though he makes sure to not be too rough, not wanting to hurt the chick. Even if he's pissed off, it ain't really her fault. Even if she is kinda condescending as hell.
"This the shit ya want us ta bake? Seems simple, shit. Got the fuckin' ingredients?" Mondo questions after looking at the recipe sightlessly for a few moments, unable to actually read it without his glasses on, but like hell is he gonna admit that out loud. He looks up at Hina after a moment, stomach churning to see her happy, satisfied grin. Shit. The fuck is she looking at him like that for, huh…? What, can he not take fucking initiative?! He's a goddamn /leader/, for Christ's sake! He does shit like this all the goddamn time! Fucking figures his goddamn /classmates/ wouldn't realize he has any good fucking traits at all. God fucking damn them…
"Oh! Yep! Headmaster Kirigiri is providing them so we can practice! Do you..." the swimmer pauses, eyes darting to the side, before looking back at him. She's smiling brightly and considering who he fucking /knows/ she was just looking at, he feels fucking /trepidation/ fill him. "Do you wanna work with Taka? He should be able to show you how to do it easily enough, if you don't know how-"
"I'll be fine," Mondo grunts, trying to force down the anger that hits him at the fucking words that fucking swimmer said. Shit, he fucking /knew/ she didn't trust him to do this shit! He's not a goddamn infant, and he doesn't fucking need /Ishimaru's fucking help with this shit/!
Anger mounting despite himself— hating the idea of anyone looking down on him, thinking him /lesser/— he cannot stop the words that burst from his lips, for once not caring who he hurts. Not even… e-even…
"I know how ta do this shit. Ain't like it's fuckin' hard. Mix shit together an' put it in the oven. Ain't like Ishimaru's top shit fer knowin' how ta do it."
He can feel his stomach clenching as he says the words, and he refuses to look over to the left, not wanting to see how the kid took it. Face hard as stone, he turns back and storms over to the corner he'd been in, the rest of their classmates finally moving towards the front to grab their own recipes, whispering and darting him stupid ass looks. He's just about to snap at them all to /stop fuckin' lookin' at me, ya fuckin' jackasses/, when he feels a soft hand touch his arm. Transferring his deadly as fuck glare to whoever dared to touch him, he feels himself wilt a little when he just sees Chi and his wide ass eyes, the dude looking afraid, but also oddly determined.
"M-Mondo…" the dude starts, before pausing. It seems like he reconsiders what he wants to say, since instead of saying anything, he looks down, shifting his eyes to the paper Mondo is still holding. "W-want to be partners? F-for the baking thing? I don't know much about baking, but I'm sure we can figure it out, t-together… if you'd like…"
Mondo considers the softly spoken words, his anger fading the longer he thinks. He's still highly uncomfortable, hating the looks their classmates are giving them (Enoshima's most of all, fuck that chick), but… it ain't Chi's fault. Chi's just trying to be a good friend. And if he wants to do this shit properly, he might want some help. He guesses. Hina did say they should work in pairs…
With a sigh, Mondo nods tiredly, handing over the paper without complaint. He takes his glasses out of his pocket, looking around to make sure no one is looking, before putting them on quickly. Can't exactly read the recipe without them, right? And he doesn't fucking want to mess up. Not again.
Once Chi finishes going over the recipe, Mondo takes it back and reads it himself, ignoring the surprised look Chi is giving him. So what, he's wearing fucking glasses?! Who fucking cares?! Ugh. Whatever.
The recipe itself is pretty simple, like he'd said earlier, with only seven main ingredients. Some flour, baking powder, baking soda, sugar, an egg, butter, and vanilla. He has no idea what the difference between baking soda and powder is, and if he was making this himself, he might just do one or the other, but since he's trying to do this shit properly, he guesses he'll get all the fucking ingredients. Ain't like he's gotta pay for this shit, yeah?
"'Kay. I'll go grab the ingredients; you grab the shit we'll need ta mix it. Ya know, mixin' bowl, a scale, the shit Hina an'- an' Taka were talkin' 'bout. Sound good?" Mondo asks, looking up at Chi with a raised brow, fumbling only a little over Taka's name. Chi doesn't seem to notice, since he's nodding quickly, a small smile on his face.
"S-sure! I'll find us a place on the counter to mix everything up in, too," Chi replies, before turning and heading off to the cabinet where he assumes the baking supplies are located. After a moment (in which he takes off his fucking glasses, not wanting to deal with the stares or the judgment), he heads off to the food pantry, waiting for his classmates to finish grabbing their shit before he grabs his. He sees Leon grabbing the ingredients for himself and Maizono, and Mondo finds himself nodding in his direction. After a moment, Leon nods back, giving him a crooked grin. Hm. Maybe he should make more of an effort to hang out with the dude again. It's been a while since they last hung out, what with Leon avoiding him and Mondo being so busy with Chi's training, not to mention everything going on with- with Taka. Now that he and… and Taka aren't… shit. Maybe he'll have more time for other shit, like repairing other friendships he managed to ruin.
Thoroughly depressed now, Mondo heads over to the fridge and grabs the last two ingredients they need, heading over to where he sees Chi has set up immediately after. He doesn't look over at where the kid is still standing, Hina speaking to him or something. He doesn't care. He ruined shit with Taka and that's fucking that. Whatever.
"Got the shit we need. How should we do this, huh? Should we split up the work, or…" Mondo questions as he places the ingredients down, frowning at the recipe he's still holding, quickly grabbing his glasses and putting them back on his face. Chi hums in consideration, shrugging when Mondo looks at him.
"I- I'm not sure, Mondo. I'm not very good at baking… it's a lot more, um… messy than programming," Chi claims, cheeks pink as he looks down, fiddling with his dress. Mondo considers this, nodding slowly. Yeah, he's not that great with baking either, but he thinks he can follow this simple fucking recipe. It really shouldn't be that fucking hard…
"Yeah, okay, man. Why don't I do the measurin' an' shit an' ya can do the mixin' an' shit? Seems fair."
Chi nods his head quickly, seeming relieved at Mondo's offer, and Mondo can't help the small smirk he gets at the sight. Shit. Maybe it would be good to spend more time with the dude. He's not that bad, you know? Kinda like Taka, but more meek and less sure of himself. But that ain't bad. Maybe Mondo could help him grow out of his shell, like he had been trying to do with Taka. He wouldn't fuck it up this time, though. He'd do it better. Be a better friend. Not… n-not make the same mistakes he did with Taka, not try and /help/ in that way, not… not forget who and what the fuck he is. Maybe… m-maybe…
Or maybe not. Who knows. Who fucking knows.
Anyway. With that decided, Mondo turns to the recipe and looks at the first step. It says to preheat the oven to 375 Fahrenheit (the fuck is with the American bullshit temperature system, the fuck? At least the recipe says that it's 190 degrees in Celsius next to it) but finds that all the ovens are already preheated to that temp. Guess Hina decided to do it for them in advance, then.
Next it says to mix the flour, baking soda, and baking powder together in a bowl. Measuring out the exact right amount of each ingredient using the provided scales (having no hope of understanding the American measurement system, Jesus Christ), Mondo dumps them into a small bowl that Chi had gotten them. It takes him longer than he'd ever fucking admit, but he wants to be sure he gets the amount right this time, redoing his measurements three fucking times each, shit. He hands the bowl to Chi once he's done, and the dude stirs the powders together thoroughly and yet also carefully, likely not wanting to get the mixture all over his dress. He tells Chi to set the bowl aside then, since that's what the recipe says.
He stares at the next line for longer than he prolly should, Chi asking if there's a problem after about a minute. Looking up— head tilted— he moves the paper so Chi can see it, feeling kinda lost.
"Uh, hey, Chi. Know what the fuck 'cream together the butter an' sugar' means? Do we… do we gotta get cream or somethin'? Wasn't fuckin' on the ingredients list…"
Chi frowns as he considers the question, head also tilting as he looks at the recipe critically. After a moment, the dude shrugs, looking just as lost.
"Oh, um… I don't… think so? If it isn't on the ingredients list, I don't think it would be in the recipe… b-but maybe we should, um… ask Hina? O-or, um… T-Taka? I'm sure one of them would know…"
Mondo feels his back stiffen at the mention of their two temporary instructors, a feeling of indignation rising within him as he sharply shakes his head. The idea of fucking asking for help for this is just… so fucking wrong. He can figure this shit out himself, thanks. He's just… he's just gotta look for context clues, or whatever. That's what Dai always told him growing up. It's how his bro was able to figure shit out. While Mondo has always been shit at it, he's gotten better over the years and he's fairly certain he can figure this shit out.
Reading over the recipe carefully, he's able to parse that it's prolly telling them to mix the butter and sugar together. Why the recipe couldn't just fucking /say that/, he doesn't know, but it's the only thing that makes logical sense.
"Nah, it's fine. I think it means ta mix the two together, yeah? Since it says shit like beat an' blend in the next two steps? Let's just do that," he mumbles, moving to grab the ingredients. He pauses when he reaches out for the butter, realizing again that he still doesn't know what the fuck 'softened' means. Shit.
"Uh… the fuck is softened…?" Mondo mutters, shooting a glance at Chi to see if the dude knows either. Considering the clueless look he finds on the dude's face, he doubts he'll be getting any help there. Great.
With a sigh, he grabs a small bowl and puts the butter in it, not measuring it as carefully as he prolly should with his agitation. He then puts it into the microwave and puts it in for a minute. There. That should be enough to 'soften' it, right? Right.
Or… perhaps not.
Mondo and Chi frown down into the now liquid butter, the yellow mess seeming to taunt them.
"Um… Mondo… I- I don't know if this is right…" Chi stammers, looking at Mondo through his eyelashes. The unintended accusation affronts Mondo, and he finds himself glaring at the dude, ignoring the soft 'eep!' of fright.
"Hey, shut the fuck up! Softened, melted… same fucking thing, right? Anyway, what's it gonna do? Same ingredient, can't make that big offa difference, yeah? Ain't like butter's that important anyway. So, just… put it in the bowl with the sugar and mix it. Shit's simple."
Chi doesn't argue with him and just nods his head quickly, grabbing the sugar and holding it out to Mondo so he can measure out the proper amount like he's been doing with the rest of the shit. It makes him feel bad that he was kind of a dick, so he gives a sheepish smile when he hands over the bowl with the butter, trading the ingredients.
Unfortunately, he must move the bowl a bit too quickly, since a small amount of it splashes out and lands squarely on the floor, a slip hazard waiting to happen.
"Oh, shit," Mondo curses, louder than he intends.
To his surprise, he hears a quiet giggle, causing his head to dart up and his eyes to glare unintentionally. When he sees that it's just Chi giggling and smiling softly, however, he feels the anger fade away, a small smile surprisingly finding its way upon his lips. And then, a second later, he… he surprisingly finds himself laughing too, a low chuckle that is partially due to humor, partially due to relief. Relief for what, he doesn't know, but it's something, he guesses.
Honestly, Mondo has no idea what the fuck he's feeling anymore. Now that he's not so focused on his anger and upset, he can kind of see that maybe he's been overreacting a bit, that maybe… maybe shit isn't quite as fucked up as he'd been thinking it was. Or maybe shit is fucked up and he's deluding himself right now, thinking that maybe it isn't. Who the fuck knows, right? All he knows is that he's got to fucking make these cookies taste as amazing as he fucking can. To maybe… maybe show Taka that he does fucking care about shit, even if people think he doesn't. Right?
Chest still aching, but not feeling as miserable as he had when he'd entered the kitchen, Mondo places down the bowl of butter and heads over to grab some towels, knowing Taka would be so fucking disappointed in him if he just left the mess there for someone else to clean. Or, worse, slip on and hurt themself. Shit, is he whipped. Whatever. Who fucking cares.
After that, he heads over to Chi, who is now holding the bowl he put down, smiling shakily at him.
"Should we, um… continue?" Chi asks hesitantly, to which Mondo nods, firm. Hell yes. While cleaning, Mondo caught a glimpse of Taka at his own station, already by the oven. Waiting for his cookies to bake, he guesses. Shit. Of course he'd be the first to finish, he's so fucking good at everything, but it makes Mondo feel strangely nervous. He… he's gotta show Taka he knows what the fuck he's doing. That he's not that incompetent. So, he… he's gotta hurry the fuck up already, Christ.
With that decided, Mondo grabs the sugar and an empty cup, carefully measuring the needed weight, making sure to check three fucking times. And he makes sure that it's actually sugar this time, even tasting it. Fool him once, shame on him. Fool him twice, he's a fucking idiot who'll never fucking learn.
Plopping the desired amount into the bowl, Mondo watches critically as Chi stirs it, frowning at how runny it looks. Is that… how it's supposed to look…? Shit, whatever, no turning back now. From there, he adds the eggs and vanilla, Chi stirring again. Finally, Mondo grabs the bowl with the 'dry' ingredients and dumps it into the bowl with the 'wet' ingredients, seeing that the batter is still fucking runny as shit, but whatever, it should be fine, right? He followed the recipe exactly, he doesn't know how else he could have fucked up! Unless he's just that fucking terrible at baking… shit.
"So… what's next?" Chi asks him softly, the pair still frowning at the runny batter. It makes Mondo's shoulders tense up, and he shrugs carelessly, reading the next step and ignoring the fact he prolly fucked up somewhere. Whatever. Hopefully they taste good…
"Recipe says ta roll 'em inta little balls. So, uh… guess we gotta do that, yeah? Prolly need baking sheets an' paper, an' shit like that first, though. So… yeah."
Chi nods at his statement, the dude turning and heading over to where the baking sheets and parchment paper are kept, Mondo following after him leisurely.
The looseness in his posture immediately fades when he notices that the walk to the baking sheets is currently leading them right past the cooling racks Hina set up for them to put their cookies on once they're finished. That in and of itself wouldn't be a problem, except for the fact that none other than Kiyotaka Ishi-/fucking/-maru just happens to be standing right beside the cooling rack, eyes distant as he stares at his cooling cookies.
Because of course that shit's gotta happen. Of course he has to go past Taka, the one person he doesn't want to see, not while he's already fucked up the cookies he was trying so fucking hard to get right, but of /course/ he couldn't get them right, he can't get /anything/ fucking right. Not these cookies, not his friendship with Taka… he's just a goddamn fuck up who can't do anything right. Why the fuck would he ever expect anything different?
And then, proving his absolute /shit/ luck… Chi just so happens to have to acknowledge Taka's presence. Because /of course/ the two are friends, and of course Chi would want to talk to Taka. Just… fucking peachy.
Though… now that he's looking at the kid, he… he sure does look upset, doesn't he…? He… he hadn't looked that upset earlier, but what the fuck could have happened in the last half hour to make him that unhappy…?
"O-oh! Taka, t-those look really good," Chi peeps as he looks at Taka's cookies, and honestly, the dude's fucking right. Taka's cookies look fucking /bomb/, glistening slightly and just this side of gooey. It's Mondo's absolute favorite kinda cookie, and he can actually feel his mouth water as he looks at them. Though… huh. Wait a second, something ain't right about those cookies… weren't they supposed to be making… "But... but I thought we were supposed to make sugar cookies? N-not that I'm questioning you! Just... u-um..."
Huh. He's right. Now that Mondo thinks about it, Taka's cookies ain't sugar cookies, like they're supposed to make. Instead, they're… they're /chocolate chip/, his… his favorite… s-shit, shit, did… did Taka fucking…?
"They're my mother's favorite," the kid suddenly gasps, sounding super fucking weird, but Mondo isn't able to focus on that. Not with the pain and fucking /disappointment/ that hits him square in the chest. Because… shit. Right. He ain't the only person on earth who likes chocolate chip. It's prolly the most well-known fucking cookie of all time. 'Course other people like it. Like… like Taka's ma. Who loved to bake. Who taught Taka to bake. Who Taka misses with all his heart and rather than make the recommended sugar cookie, he made her favorite cookie instead, the kid looking so fucking sad all of a sudden, out of nowhere. Which… is… shit. Hold on. Wait a fucking second…
Mondo gets distracted from his thoughts when he hears Chi reply to Taka, and he promptly forces the thoughts away, looking away from the kid, not knowing when he looked over towards him in the first place. It doesn't fucking matter. Taka… Taka ain't his fucking concern. Not now. Not when he's trying to not fuck up his cookies. Maybe later… maybe later he can do something, try and fix their broken ass relationsh- /friendship/, friendship, but for now he can't focus on two things at once. He's always been so fucking shit at multitasking.
(And if he can't quite force the heart-breaking look Taka had had on his face away, the kid biting his lip harshly, eyes screwed shut and liquid pooling behind the lids, then… shit. Whatever. He can't help what he thinks about and it still ain't his problem. Even if it hurts his chest. Even if everything inside of him longs to wrap Taka up in his arms and hold him tight, keeping him safe from all harm. He has no right to do that kinda shit anymore. Not now. Not until he fixes this shit, if there even is anything /to/ fix. But he's gotta try. Not now, he can't now, but later… later. When he's not trying to bake some fucking cookies.)
"O-oh... w-well, they look really good! M-Mondo and I's batter looks kind of, um... melted... I think we added too much butter, and it was all melted, s-since neither of us knew what it meant by softened... b-but I don't think it meant melted, u-um..."
"Softened means it should still be solid, but not hard. Room temperature, really. Melting the butter entirely alters the consistency of the dough, making it runnier, causing the cookies to bake flat. To fix it, you should put it in the refrigerator for a couple of hours, or the freezer for fifteen minutes, if you don't wish to wait," Taka interrupts, voice mumbling and absent, like he hadn't meant to say it at all. And then he… he fucking bites his lip so hard that Mondo can tell it's gotta hurt, maybe it even splits, and he can feel concern rise inside him again, and he has to shove it aside again, forcing himself to look away from Taka. /Again/. It… it ain't his problem, it ain't, it… it…
"Oh! Really? Thanks, Taka! I, um... I'm gonna go and do that! Mondo, m-maybe you should talk to Taka, okay? He can help with the cookies, f-for next time... o-okay?"
Mondo feels a spark of embarrassment fill him, not to mention panic. Him, talking to Taka? After acknowledging that he'd fucked up his cookies, unable to follow a simple fucking recipe, proving how fucking moronic he is? God. What a fucking mess. He looks over at Chi, embarrassment thick in his chest, and he shrugs tightly.
"Shit, whatever man. Sorry I ruined the cookies," Mondo mutters, not thinking about his words as he looks at Chi. Chi doesn't seems upset with him, though. He just smiles at him gently, shaking his head.
"N-no! You didn't ruin them, Mondo! Taka says they will be okay if we put them in the freezer, s-so don't worry. Besides, it was kind of my fault, t-too... um. I'm gonna, uh... go put the batter in the freezer. Um... yeah."
With that, Chi flounces away, his skirt bouncing with his movements. Mondo lets his eyes linger on the dude for a bit longer than he should, his heart racing fast inside his chest. And it's not because of Chi, he knows that for damn sure. Not even when he thought the dude was a chick did he feel that kinda reaction. No, the only one who can ever make his heart race quite like this is… shit.
The oppressive silence guts Mondo, and he can't help how he looks over at Taka after a moment of it, heart aching at the miserable look he finds there. He wishes he knew what was causing it. If it's something else or if it's… it's /him/, his presence, Taka hating it, hating /him/, wanting him… wanting him gone, never wanting to see him again, never… n-never…
"... uh. So... fuck. Yer ma liked chocolate chip?" Mondo eventually mutters, feeling more awkward than he ever has. He immediately regrets the question, knowing how stupid a conversation topic it is. Shit, is that really the best he can do? No wonder Taka hates him now. He's so fucking pathetic. He wants to fix shit between him and Taka, but how the fuck can he do that when he fails at everything he even tries to do? He had wanted to keep his friendship with Taka alive, and he ruined that. He wanted to help Taka, to get him to loosen up just a little, and he failed at that, too. Just like he's failing at this conversation. God, Taka probably hates his guts, wants him gone, wants to stop talking to him, wants-
"W-we don't have to do this. You don't... y-you don't have to pretend, O-/Owada-kun/. I-it- it's /fine/, go to Chihiro, be with her, I- I'm /okay/, you don't have to- t-to /pretend/-" Taka gasps, his voice breaking on the last word, the pain clear for the world to hear. At least it masks the sound of Mondo's heart utterly shattering, his breath stuttered when he hears what Taka said, everything inside him /aching/ with the pain. O… Owada-kun…? Really? They're back to that shit? And- and… and what the /fuck/ does he mean pretending? Or Chi? What… what the goddamn fuck does Taka even fucking mean?!
Anger rising in him, Mondo can't stop the angry, confused words that escape his lips, yet another bit of proof that he could never begin to fix this shit. He can only make it worse. It's what he fucking /does/.
"Wait, the fuck? Pretendin'? What the fuck are ya talkin' 'bout? Shit… yer not still fuckin' hung up 'bout earlier, are ya? Fuckin'- goddamnit, Taka! I told ya I wasn't fuckin' lyin' 'bout that shit! I know yer fuckin' /mad at me/ an' shit, but Jesus Christ! The fuck I gotta do ta show ya I mean it when I say that I- I fuckin'... and what the fuck does Chi hafta do with this shit? I don't fuckin' understand you, Taka, you're not makin' any sense and you're drivin' me outta my /goddamn mind/, fuck!"
Mondo's chest is heaving as he looks at Taka, /glaring/, everything inside him swirling unpleasantly. This all is so fucked up and he doesn't know what the fuck to do anymore. Taka is mad at him and it's all his fault and he wants to fix it, but he fucking /can't fucking fix it/, and he's so fucking pathetic it ain't funny, and Taka looks like he's about to cry, and then he's flinching back into the cooking rack, and then-
"Jesus Christ, Taka, don't fuckin' touch that! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Mondo yells, eyes wide as he watches Taka reach behind himself for stability and accidentally grab the baking sheet that Mondo knows was in the oven not even five minutes ago, the metal likely still hot as shit. It should be burning the kid's fucking hand, and yet Taka ain't fucking flinching, why the fuck isn't he flinching, why the /goddamn hell is he still holding the goddamn tray and not fucking flinching/-
Jerking forward on instinct, Mondo grabs Taka's arm, doing his best to yank the kid's hand away from the tray, needing to keep him safe, needing to stop the pain he knows the kid must be in. He's touched enough hot shit in his life to know it's super fucking painful. He doesn't want Taka to be in pain. He never wants Taka to be in pain. He wants… h-he wants…
Unfortunately for them both, Taka is still clinging to the baking sheet quite firmly, and so when Mondo tries to pull his hand away from the sheet, the sheet goes with it. Sending the sheet flying through the room, the soft, gooey cookies spraying everywhere, the metal landing with an earth-shattering *CLANG*. Oh /shit/-!
"Aw, shit! Sorry, man, didn't fuckin'... uh... here, I'll clean 'em, shit, fuck," Mondo exclaims without thinking, bending down immediately to pick up the scattered cookies, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pulled down into a worried frown. He can't stop the concern he feels for Taka now, not after all that, something about seeing Taka reach out and grab the sheet bugging him, his mind remembering more details about the event in hindsight, realizing that Taka… Taka not only didn't flinch, but he… he…
He leaned in… he fucking /leaned in/, his hand wrapping actively around the sheet, which Mondo can tell is still super fucking hot when he bumps it with his arm by accident. Taka had fucking /meant/ to grab onto the sheet, meant to… to /hurt himself, oh god, oh shit/. His mind reminds him bitterly of the fact that Taka has confessed to hurting himself in the past, has maybe even tried to fucking /kill himself/, and while he's super fucking bad at emotional shit like this, he knows both are signs of shit that- that ain't good. Shit like- like depression and anxiety and shit.
Taka had seemed off during the entire conversation he and Chi had, had seemed worse during their little chat, and he can't help but wonder if something isn't horribly wrong. Is he… is he reading this whole situation backwards? Is he… is /he/ hurting Taka right now…? He thought Taka was mad at /him/, thought Taka never wanted to see /Mondo/ again, but what if he's wrong? What if he's wrong, and Taka thinks he's fucking /abandoning/ him, like everyone abandons him, a-and now Taka wants to fucking /hurt himself, all because Mondo is a fucked-up asshole who can't push aside his own goddamn bullshit long enough to help the only goddamn person on this godforsaken planet that matters a bit/-
Or maybe Taka is in fact mad at him and he's being fucking delusional and /fuck/, does he wish Taka would just fucking /talk to him, for once/! He has a feeling so many of their problems would be solved if the kid could just fucking tell him what he's doing wrong, so he could fucking fix it, but /no/, that would be too fucking convenient, too fucking easy, too fucking helpful, too fucking-
"M-Mondo! Are you alright, I- I heard the clang! What happened?" he hears Chi call to him, watching the dude run over with large, watery eyes. Mondo grimaces, everything in him hurting so fucking bad, not sure what the fuck to do anymore. It's like he's in fucking molten glass, trapped and burning from the outside in. But he can't ignore Chi, Chi's his friend, he can't ruin another relationship, another friendship, another-
"The… the fuckin' cookies fell, shit. 'M helpin' clean 'em up," he mumbles, voice low and distracted, eyes returning to the ruined cookies he's holding in his hands. He… he ruined them. Taka had made these, had put so much love and care and energy into them, and Mondo fucking /ruined them, like he ruins everything/, and he can't… h-he can't, he can't, he /can't/-
"O-oh no! H-here, let me help you!" Chi exclaims, before he's bending down and helping grab the cookies, something about it both relieving Mondo and making him more anxious. Shit. Fuck. /Fuck/.
And then-
Then Taka is fucking /gone/.
Turning on his heel, Taka faces the exit and fucking books it, his legs going as fast as he possibly can without running, because of /course/ he isn't running, Taka never runs when he's inside, he's too fucking /structured/ for that shit. It concerns Mondo more than anything else has all day, his body instinctively standing and turning into the direction he saw Taka run off into, stunned silent for a moment as he watches the kid flee. And then…
Then Mondo /is/ running, since he's never fucking cared about breaking the goddamn rules, his mind sluggish and slow. Taka is fast when he wants to be, and he had a head start when Mondo had been stunned into inaction after Taka first started to flee, but Mondo has a great incentive to catch up to the kid. He doesn't know why he's doing this, what he hopes to achieve since he /knows/ Taka hates him now, but he can't leave it like this. Not when he saw the anguish on Taka's face, not when he /saw/ the kid purposely touch a hot tray, not when he knows something isn't right. Maybe he lost his right to care about Taka when he did that shit earlier, but he can't help it. He cares so fucking much for that precious as fuck boy, and he can't bear the thought of him dealing with whatever this is alone. Maybe yelling at Mondo will help the kid, who knows. He just knows he has to reach him. He has to show that he still fucking cares, and that he'll always fucking care. God, he… he cares so fucking much…
Mondo runs through the dining hall without taking in anything, only the fact that Taka ain't there, and then he's in the hall, eyes darting around for the kid when— there, he's fucking there, heading for his dorm. With renewed speed, Mondo rushes forward, knowing he has to catch the kid now. He has a key to Taka's dorm, but he can't fucking 'intrude' on his space like that, can't force himself into his kyoudai's fucking /room/, not now. This has to be done before Taka reaches his dorm, it just fucking has to be.
With his renewed speed, Mondo reaches Taka's side when he's still about a meter or two away from the dorm, and without thinking, he darts forward to grab the kid's arm. Tighter than he means to, the panic inside him making him go a bit stupid, and he feels the kid thrash against him, making him hold on even tighter. Bruising, oh god. But he can't let go, something is so fucking wrong, Taka is crying desperately, and Mondo has no idea why, no idea what went so fucking wrong this last half hour, he… he knows they had their fucking /fight/, but… but /Taka/ was the one who wanted it… wasn't he? He was the one who wanted nothing to do with Mondo anymore… right? R… right?
Shit… shit, shit… s-shit…
"Holy shit, Taka, calm the fuck down! It's only fuckin' me, goddamnit! The fuck is goin' on with ya today?!" Mondo eventually bursts out, his frustration and confusion unable to be held back anymore, everything inside him so fucking confused. What even is going on?
But then Taka is fucking /crying/, chest heaving with the sobs, and something cold and sharp lodges itself into Mondo's heart, his breath getting knocked out when he sees proof of his kyoudai's pain. God, he… he hates seeing Taka cry, hates being the /cause/ of Taka crying, why can't he just fucking be what Taka needs, for /once/, dear fucking /god/… Mondo can tell Taka is having a panic attack, knows he's freaking out, and he needs to help, needs to do something, needs… needs…
"H-holy shit, T-Taka... K-Kiyo, ya need ta calm down, yer gonna hurt yerself, please man... k-kyoudai, just... f-fuck..." Mondo says, softer than before, hating seeing Taka in so much pain. And then he… he tries to pull the kid in, tries to hold him and ground him, but that's clearly a bad choice because now the kid is stiff as a statue, cringing away from him, sobbing harder, and /fuck/ does that hurt. But this isn't about him, he can fuck right off, this is about Taka, dammit. With a deep breath, trying to calm himself down enough so that he can help calm Taka down, Mondo tries again.
"Okay... f-fuck, okay... I- I'm gonna let ya go, but please don't run from me, okay? We gotta... fuck. We gotta talk 'bout this shit, 'cuz I think one or both a' us have got the wrong idea, an' we just... we gotta fuckin' talk 'bout this shit, man, 'cuz this ain't like ya. So... please don't run from me, okay? Shit..."
Mondo lets Taka go, then, tense as he waits to see if Taka will listen, if he had heard him at all. But after a moment of tension, Taka swaying on his feet, like he's debating whether or not to do as Mondo said… Mondo figures he's good to try again. Taka ain't running and that's… that's important. Everything else will come later. Mondo himself can fucking break down later. Taka needs him right now, and that's all that fucking matters.
Not knowing what else to do, Mondo shuffles closer to Taka, whose eyes are glazed over, and he finds himself tentatively reaching up, fingers brushing Taka's wet cheeks. He can see Taka flinch subtly, feels the tension in his jaw, but the kid doesn't pull away. Instead, he… he leans closer, subtly leaning into his hand. It makes Mondo's heart race, everything inside him swirling unpleasantly, but he can't stop now. Taka is freaking out and he has to fix it. God, please, let him be able to fix it.
Unable to stop himself, Mondo fully cups Taka's cheek in his hand, wishing to god that it's not too much. But it isn't, it /isn't/, Taka is leaning in again, gasping softly, eyes sliding shut. Mondo wipes away the tears like he always wants to do, steps closer, tries harder. Taka needs him. He can't fuck this up. He fucks everything up but he can't fuck this up. He just… he fucking /can't/.
Feeling a little bolder, Mondo places his other hand on Taka's side, tentative and weak, allowing Taka the opportunity to escape if he truly wants. But the kid doesn't. He just stiffens, breath shuddery, and stands there. Pressing a little closer, Mondo steps forward one last time, so that he's almost pressed fully to Taka, his hand firm but gentle against the kid's side. He's not entirely sure what his goal is here, but he… he wants to ground the kid. Taka is freaking out, his head likely all jumbled, and he needs something to ground him. The hand on his cheek and the hand on his side should hopefully help. He hopes. He hopes.
And then… then, Taka raises his hands and puts them on Mondo's chest, and for a split-second Mondo thinks Taka means to push him away, pain spiking in his heart at the thought. But then… then, the hands are fisting his tank, pulling him subtly closer, and then Mondo is pressing his forehead to Taka's, needing to be closer, closer, always closer, and Taka doesn't flinch away. A few more tears escape, and Mondo wipes them away tenderly, his heart aching for the precious boy before him. God he… he hates seeing Taka like this… he hates it so fucking much…
"Hey... hey, Kiyo, yer okay... yer okay, we're both okay... just... breathe with me, man, c'mon... follow my breathin'. Ya need ta calm yerself, yer panickin' Kiyo... yeah, that's it, man, breathe with me... yer doin' so fuckin' good Kiyo, c'mon..."
It's all he can think of to help, all he can think of to /do/, he needs to calm Taka down no matter what. And… and after a moment, Taka does as he asks, begins aligning their breathing, and Mondo has to force himself to breathe properly to help Taka. Taka is shivering against him, eyes closed, and it's heartbreaking to see him like this. This… this is all his fault. If only Mondo wasn't such a fuck up, Taka wouldn't be in so much pain right now. God, he doesn't deserve this fucking kid. Taka is gonna see that one day, he knows he will. And /god/ is that gonna destroy him… f-fuck… if today was any indication, losing Taka for good is not something he's gonna be able to just get past. It's gonna hurt like no one's fucking business and he doesn't know what to do. He knows Taka will leave him, knows it's for the best, but what is he gonna do when it finally happens? What is he gonna fucking do? He… he…
He can't focus on this now. This isn't about him. It's about Taka. Taka needs him, he /needs him/, and he can't let him down. He focuses on his breathing, focuses on getting Taka to follow along, and he forces everything else away. It'll be fine. As long as Taka is okay… it's all gonna be fucking /fine/.
Finally, an unknown amount of time later, he can feel Taka relaxing under his hands. The kid is still trembling, but his breathing is even, and no more tears leak from his eyes. Mondo's hands are simultaneously rubbing soothing circles on Taka's waist and cheek, and he hopes it's helping. Hopes /he's/ helping. He… he just…
"Better, Kiyo?" Mondo rumbles, wondering if it's too soon to break the trance. Well, if not, he's already fucked that up. But, to his fortune… instead of freaking out again, all Taka does is open his eyes, bright scarlet bleeding sorrow, and it breaks Mondo's heart as much as it makes it beat so fucking fast. Taka…
"I'm sorry... I- I messed up again..." Taka mutters, before closing his eyes. It makes Mondo sigh, something like disappointment filling him, but not at Taka. Just… at himself, for not being enough. For not being able to get Taka to realize that this shit ain't his fault. Not sure what else to do, Mondo follows his instincts and… and leans forward, pressing his lips gently to Taka's forehead, as tender as he can. His lips tingle when he pulls away, and he can't help how he leans down to kiss the kid's cheek then, relishing in the smooth skin. And then- then he kisses the other cheek, and then, finally… finally, his nose, just a light press of lips, not sure what the hell he's doing but knowing he can't fucking stop. Taka's breathing is a bit heavy again, but Mondo can't focus on that. Instead, he just returns to his previous position, forehead pressed tight to Taka's, holding the kid close to him. So fucking close. His hand is still cupping Taka's cheek and it feel like it's on fire, his whole body does, but he doesn't care. All he cares about is Taka and fixing his fucking mistakes. That's all.
"Nah, ya didn't fuckin' mess up, Kiyo. Just... fuck. I- I thought... I thought you were fuckin' /mad at me/, or somethin', an' I let that shit mess with my head. I shouldn't a'... unless... are ya mad at me? 'Cuz I can't tell, man, I just... I thought I'd give ya some space, cool off myself, but then I saw ya were startin' ta freak out, an' I don't know if it was 'cuz a' me, or yer ma, or... I dunno, the nonsense that keeps attackin' yer head. But just... shit, man. Talk ta me, okay? I'm fuckin' worried 'bout you and I just... I just... wanna make sure you're good. I hate seeing you like this, Kiyo. Fucking... fuckin' breaks my fuckin' heart. Y'ain't ever gotta feel so upset ya hurt yerself, okay? An' I don't know if ya meant ta, but... s-shit. Still. Mean it. Hate seein' ya in pain, an' I'll do everythin' I can ta help ya, even if it takes the rest a' my fuckin' life. An' that's a promise, okay? A man's promise. A… a promise between men."
And he means it. /Fuck/, does he mean it. He'll gladly spend every single day of his life helping this kid, taking his pain away. If he could have Taka forever, always holding him, always helping him, always _loving him_? Then he's fairly certain he'd die a happy man. If he could have Taka forever, never lose him, never fuck up so badly and force Taka away… god, what a fucking dream. It's everything he's ever wanted. Fuck…
Mondo has a solitary moment of panic when he feels Taka pull away from him, worried he fucked up somehow, but then Taka is burying his face into his chest, body trembling, but he's not leaving and that's all Mondo can focus on now. On autopilot, Mondo takes the hand that had been on Taka's cheek and weaves it into the kid's hair, humming lightly under his breath as he tries to soothe. Taka… Taka needs him, and he won't let him down. Not again. Not this time.
But then Taka is shaking his head, frantic, and Mondo doesn't know what the fuck to do.
"No, I... n-no. I'm not- not mad at you, kyoudai...! I- I... I thought /you/ were mad at /me/! B-because I... w-what I said, after we- er... y-you know... I thought you /hated me/ and d-didn't want... want to be my friend anymore, and I just- I- a-and I know you have told me that nothing could make you h-hate me, b-but... but everyone always hates me, and I don't know /why,/ what I do wrong, and I don't want you to hate me, I- I don't w-want to be alone, I- I- I don't- p-please don't... M-Mondo, I-"
Oh, god. Oh dear fucking /god/. How… how could he have made this poor fucking kid think that he'd /ever/ abandon him…? How- how did he possibly fuck up /this fucking bad/? How could Taka ever think Mondo could /hate him/, when there's no one on this planet that he adores more? That he'd do anything for? He… he can't… he fucking /can't/…
Unable to stop himself yet again, Mondo lets out a strangled noise, before pulling Taka back from the embrace, pulling him /up/, needing to feel him, needing to /see/ him. He… he needs to see Taka, needs Taka to see /him/, needs Taka to understand fully that he will never fucking leave him. Never. /Never/.
"Y'ain't. Y'ain't gonna ever be alone, Kiyo, not with me here. Shit, man... I ain't ever leavin' ya, an' I don't care how many times I gotta fuckin' say it 'til it sinks in, fuckin' a million times, don't mean shit as long as ya... as ya know I /mean/ it, okay? Ain't a single, fuckin', goddamn thing that'll make me hate you. Not... not anythin', okay? I may get mad or upset, 'cuz I ain't fuckin' perfect an' I know I got my own issues ta deal with, but... but no matter how mad I may get, ain't ever at you, okay? I'm just... mad. At myself. At the world. At just... all a' it. But not you... not- not ever /you/. Okay? A-an' I'll tell ya this ev'ry fuckin' day if ya need me ta, ev'ry goddamn minute. Ain't goin' nowhere, man. Not unless ya want me ta go. Yer kinda stuck with me, heh. So, don't... don't worry, okay? I'm... I'm here, Kiyo. I'll always /be/ here. If there's one thing that I want ya ta know... it's that, okay? Ain't ever leavin' ya. /Never/. Okay?"
He means it. He means it so fucking much he aches with it. He's never leaving this kid, not willingly, not voluntarily. Taka's the one who will leave, the one who will leave him behind, and that's okay. Well, no, it's not, but it's what's meant to happen. But him, leave Taka…? No. /Never/. And he won't rest until Taka knows it. Until Taka understands it. Until Taka realizes just how precious he is to him, just how much he… he lo-
"Why," Taka gasps, eyes wide as they look into his, "w-why? I don't... I- I don't understand, k-kyoudai... w-why..."
Why…? He… he wants to know fucking why…? Heh. How fucking easy. So goddamn simple.
Chuckling, Mondo raises both of his hands and tenderly holds Taka's face within them, cradling him like he's the most precious thing he's ever held. He shakes his head fondly as he leans down and kisses Taka's forehead again, letting his lips linger, needing to feel the kid against him. He wants to know why, does he? Well… well, then Mondo will tell him. Fuck the fact they're in a public hallway where anyone could come across them and overhear. Mondo couldn't care less. Let the whole world hear, he doesn't care. Not as long as Taka knows. Not as long as Taka /understands/.
"Why? Ya wanna know why? Shit, man... I'm shit at words, but just... yer just so fuckin'... fuckin' /incredible/, man. An' I know y'ain't gonna believe me, know ya got problems with that shit, but just... ya just... ya make me feel like I ain't a piece a' shit. Ya know? All my fuckin' life I've just been a fuckin' screw-up, but when I had Daiya, didn't seem ta fuckin' matter. He never cared I was fucked up, I was his bro, h-he had ta... had ta care 'bout me. But then he was gone, an' I was alone, an' I just... I told myself I was okay, that it didn't fuckin' bother me, but fuck, man, it did. I hated it, hated bein' so fuckin' alone, even when surrounded by my fuckin' gang. Shit fuckin' /hurt/, an' I /hated it/, but I didn't know what the fuck else ta do. Had ta keep the gang together, couldn't let Daiya down, so I had ta fuckin' keep goin', even if it hurt like nobody's fuckin' business. I... shit. Didn't even realize how much fuckin' pain I was in, I got so fuckin' good at hidin' that shit..."
Mondo pauses here, before laughing again, looking Taka in the eyes with liquid intensity, trying to showcase all the emotions he feels for the kid, needing him to know. To understand.
"But then... then I fuckin' met you. You ran inta me, like a fuckin' cliche, an' I haven't been able ta stop thinkin' 'bout ya since. It was always so easy fer ya ta cry, ta let yer emotion show. Never said it, but I envy ya fer that, ya know? Gotta be fuckin' strong all the time, can't fuckin'... can't fuckin' cry. Not even alone. But ya... y'ain't afraid a' it. Don't think. Ya just... let yerself feel what ya feel, even if it hurts. An' yer prolly the strongest fuckin' person I know, like, damn Kiyo... ain't a lotta people who can go through the shit ya've faced and still be able ta care 'bout the things ya do, like morals an' shit. Yer fuckin' incredible, man. An'... an' ya... y-you... you look at me. Like I fuckin' /matter/. Like I'm not... like I'm not a piece of shit."
Mondo laughs again, eyes hurting, chest aching, but he can't stop, can't stop, won't stop, not until Taka /understands/, god, he's so fucking shit at words but he /needs Taka to understand/.
"Didn't even know I was hurtin' so goddamn much 'til I met you and I didn't hurt quite as much anymore, you know? And when we became friends... w-when we became /kyoudai/... shit, Kiyo. Can't fucking describe what that shit meant to me. Means to me... Christ. Holding you, comforting you... it made some of the pain I was holding onto so tightly just... vanish. I always had a hard time getting close ta people, everyone always was so fucking afraid a' me, an' I never knew how ta let anyone in. But you... you just... y-ya just... fuck. I'm shit with words. Always fuckin' have been. Ain't nothin' good enough ta show what ya fuckin' mean ta me, Kiyo. But just... y'ain't gotta wonder why I care 'bout ya, okay? I do, I fuckin' /do/, an' this shit ain't goin' nowhere. Ya mean the fuckin' world ta me, kyoudai, an' if I had one wish in life it'd be that ya could fuckin' see how utterly amazin' ya are ta me. An' it makes me fuckin' uncomfortable as shit ta say it, not gonna lie, but I will, Kiyo, if it makes ya feel less pain. I'll say it every goddamn day if it makes ya feel even a hint better. Christ, I'd do fuckin' anythin' ta take yer pain away, man... fuckin'... fuckin' /anythin'/..."
Mondo's heart is pounding at the words he just said, the fucking /confession/, though he doesn't have a single clue what he just confessed. Of course he cares about Taka, of course he'd do fucking /anything/ for Taka, of course he… he'd… f-fuck, fuck, this is all so much, /too much/, but he can't leave, Taka is here and he can't leave him, he needs him, /he needs him/. He… he needs…
And then Taka is drifting closer. They're already so close, every square inch pressed together, but Taka is coming somehow closer. Mondo's brain has shut off, his body a live wire, everything in him so fucking aware. He can feel every shuddery breath Taka takes, can feel every tremble of his body, can feel the gentle puffs of air against his lips. It's intoxicating and Mondo has no hope of pulling back, not when Taka is looking at him /like that/, like that, like he's something precious, like /he's/ something incredible, and Mondo knows he doesn't deserve it, knows he's nothing special at all, but as Taka drifts closer, eyelashes fluttering, Mondo can't bring himself to pull away. Some part of himself, deep, deep down, knows what Taka is about to do, can see it coming from a mile away, but he's frozen in place, and he can't think and all he can do is watch Taka get closer, closer, his body taut with anticipation, body aching and breaking and yearning and /needing/ and-
And then. Then there are lips. On his lips. Pressed to him, so light, so gentle, barely a press at all but /god, Mondo feels it, feels them, god they're so rough, so chapped, god is it… is it…/
It's… nice. Soft. Not the lips, they're so fucking rough, but the moment. It feels… soft. Gentle. A secret moment shared between them, something forbidden but desired all the same. They shouldn't be doing this. They're in the middle of a hallway, anyone could see them, anyone could /know/, but Mondo doesn't pull back. Can't pull back. He's frozen in place, feeling Taka's lips pressed against his, vivid red eyes staring directly into his, fear rife within them. They should be closed, he thinks dully. Taka's eyes. They should be closed and he should be closer and they should be more. More. He- they- they should be more. He… he…
Mondo wants, suddenly, more. To have more. To /take/ more. To press against Taka, to press him closer. To steal from him everything. To be the thief he was raised to be. To take and take and take and take and take. To give. To give and give and give and give, all of himself, every single part. Every single broken, jagged part, a trade that can't ever be equal, not ever. He wants everything from Taka. Wants to steal it, like a thief, wants to rob him of all he has. Wants to take. To take. To take. To give something worthless. Someone worthless. To take everything and give nothing. He is nothing. Taka is everything. Taka makes him feel like he's everything but he's not. He'll just take everything and give nothing and it's not fair. He's not fair. He's never been fair. He'll never be fair. It's not in his bones to be fair. Life dealt him an unfair hand and he'll never get a fair one. He's not allowed to be fair.
Taka presses against him like this because he doesn't understand. He hears Mondo's words, thinks them special, thinks them great, when it's just the truth he's saying. He feels grateful, appreciative, but all Mondo is saying are words that anyone with half a brain should know. Mondo isn't anything special. He's not giving anything of value to Taka. He's a thief, a liar, a charlatan. Pretender. Destroyer. He takes everything and gives nothing and Taka cannot see that. He's too close to see that. He'll see it one day and where will Mondo be then? When Taka leaves, when he realizes the truth, where will Mondo be? He will have given everything, taken nothing, he'll be nothing. He's always been nothing. Taka will realize that and he'll leave and Mondo will be nothing again. He's already nothing.
Taka kisses him because he thinks he's something that he's not. He thinks he's a good person when he's not. He thinks he's salvation when he's not. He thinks he's something when he's not. He's not anything. He's not anything. He's not anything.
He's nothing.
Mondo pulls back and he should have done that a long time ago. Should have done it eons ago. Before he could have felt those rough lips on his own. Before he could have felt this yearning. Before he could have wanted that which he cannot have. That which he'll never have. He can't want it, and he forces himself to not want it, but as he looks at Taka, he knows he does. Want. Need. Crave. Taka is everything and Mondo is nothing. It's only natural to want.
"W-we... f-fuck," Mondo stammers, body shaking, not knowing what to do now. Now that he's tasted everything with his nothing. Tainted it. Mondo looks down and he sees Taka's hand and it's all he can do to fix it. Help it. He's too worthless to do anything else. "Your hand... we, uh. We should get that fixed up, okay? Know ya got a first aid kit in yer room, s-so... I, uh... l-let me bandage it up fer ya. Okay?"
Taka should say no. Should push him away, tell him he never wants to see him again, to force his nothing away from his everything. But Taka doesn't do that. He just nods his head slowly, eyes glazed, hurt rife within them but Mondo can't see it. Refuses to see it. It's better this way. Nothing could never hope to hold everything. Nothing deserves nothing, only ever deserves like. Everything deserves everything, and everything can't have everything from nothing. Mondo can't ever be everything. He's only nothing. Taka is everything. Taka deserves everything. He'll understand one day. God, please, let him understand one day.
Taka smiles and Taka laughs and it sounds wrong but Mondo pretends that it's right. It's better this way, he tells himself, as Taka laughs a sob, as Taka looks broken inside. That's what he does to people. He breaks them. Teeny, tiny, broken pieces, shattered like glass. People are so fragile and Mondo has never had finesse. It was beaten out of him when he was barely old enough to speak. He can't be what Taka needs. Not in the long run. He was only ever meant to be temporary. He's temporary. Taka will understand one day. He has to understand one day.
"A-ah... y-yes! Y-yes, kyoudai, an e-excellent idea! Haha! Hahahaha! Ha!"
The laughter is hysterical, but Mondo doesn't mention it. Mondo just turns and walks stiffly over towards Taka's room, a mere meter away, taking out his copy of the key card and opening the door with slightly shaking hands. Taka follows, like a silent ghost, and Mondo decides to not focus on it. He can't. He just… he can't.
Mondo enters the room and he gestures for Taka to sit on the bed, telling him to sit, mumbling, not knowing what he's saying at all. His insides are frozen and he can't think. He can't think. He can't be what Taka needs. He can't think.
Mondo heads to the bathroom, finds the first aid kit he knows the kid keeps there, doing all he can to even out his breathing. He can feel panic start to bubble up underneath his skin, like carbonation, like lava, and he pushes it down. Down. Taka needs him and he can't be what Taka needs and he needs to push it all /down/. There. Better. Better.
Mondo grabs the first aid kit and stumbles back into the bedroom, gait awkward, countenance off. He knows that he looks nothing like a fearsome biker gang leader. Without his armor, he's nothing. He's always been nothing, pretending to be everything, but here in this moment he can't deny the truth. He's nothing. He was born nothing and he will die nothing. His legacy will die with him and no one on earth will mourn him. If he died tomorrow, no one would care. He wouldn't care. It's what he'd deserve, monster he is.
Mondo smiles at Taka and it feels wrong, it /is/ wrong, but Taka doesn't mention it. Taka just smiles back, also wrong, and Mondo keeps going like he has to. He kneels down between Taka's knees, mind blank, and takes out the supplies he will need. Gauze. Antiseptic. Aloe. It's what Taka needs and while Mondo will never be what Taka needs, he can do all he can to give him what he needs. Build him up. Tear him down. Break him to pieces. It's all he knows how to do, but he can't do that now. He has to fix first.
"Hand," Mondo mutters, thrusting his hand out to Taka, eyes averted, looking to the side. He can't handle looking at Taka, not now, not now. Taka carefully places his right hand into Mondo's outstretched one and he tries not to let it affect him. He looks at the hand, sees the burn, and he knows it was his fault. If he had just been better. If he had just not let Taka's words affect him. If he had just been everything, then Taka wouldn't be hurt. He wishes he could be everything. He wishes he could be what Taka needs. He wishes.
But wishing for pointless things is a waste of time. The most important person told him that once. The most important person would hate him if he knew how much he wishes. He hates himself. He hates himself. He's always hated himself. God, he wishes he knew how to stop hating himself. Another pointless wish. Pointless, stupid wish.
Mondo begins to dress Taka's hand, forcing his hands to be steady, forcing his mind to be blank. He grabs the antiseptic and he gently, gently, gently applies it to the burn. He needs to clean it; he knows he must. Wounds must be kept clean. Daiya taught him that, back when he'd whimper from the pain of his brother cleaning his wounds. Daiya was always gentle. Mondo has no hope of being gentle. It's not in his bones. He tries anyway. He always tries.
Taka flinches, he wasn't good enough to stop the pain, and Mondo shushes him. Soft, quiet. Gentle, if he knew how to be gentle. He runs a thumb along the back of Taka's hand, a soothing circle, and he wonders who exactly he's soothing. Him or Taka. Taka or him.
"Ain't gonna hurt ya, Kiyo, don't worry. Just need ta clean it, s'all. Don't worry 'bout a thing, okay?" Mondo mutters, eyes darting up to meet Taka's for a split second, before looking back down and grabbing the aloe. He rubs it gently over the wound, hoping it helps take Taka's pain away. God knows Mondo can't do that for the kid.
Mondo grabs the gauze and begins wrapping it around Taka's hand, watching perversely as the reddened skin gets covered by stark white. He wraps it tight, tight, but not too tight. He won't hurt Taka again. Can't hurt Taka again. Please, don't let him hurt Taka again. Once the gauze runs out, he tapes it in place, securing the makeshift bandage in place. And then he… he…
He lifts up the hand, gently kissing the palm, like his brother would do for him when he was small. /It makes it feel better/, his brother would say, lips tilted into a crooked smile. Mondo never saw how it did, but maybe it wasn't him that it was supposed to help. Maybe it was Daiya who felt better after he kissed it. Maybe.
"There. All better," Mondo mutters against the palm, cheeks flushed and eyes averted when he pulls back. He doesn't let go of the hand, though. Not at first. He just continues to hold it, gently, looking at the white bandage with unseeing eyes. Eventually he does stand, letting go of Taka's hand reluctantly, not sure what to do now. What can he do now? He feels so wrong inside. Messed up. It's like he's still in that moment in the hallway, a lifetime contained in a second, wishing he hadn't pulled back, wishing he'd pulled back sooner, wishing for impossible things and wasting everyone's time. Taka would hate him if he knew. Taka should hate him. Taka should always have hated him. He doesn't deserve Taka not hating him.
Eventually he's able to look up at Taka and he sees the weariness in his expression, and he remembers what he'd said. Earlier. He wonders what it means. What Taka meant. What Taka wants. He sighs, frowning. He needs to know.
"Hey. Uh... just 'cuz I don't wanna have shit hangin' 'tween us... ya... ya mentioned somethin'. Earlier. 'Bout, uh... Chi. Do ya... shit. Do ya got a problem with me an' Chi hangin' out? 'Cuz, I thought ya two were friends an' shit. Ya never seemed ta have a problem with us hangin' out b'fore, but if ya do... Taka, man... just... fuck. Tell me? An' don't try an' bullshit me, okay? I want the truth. Deserve that much, at least."
No he doesn't. He doesn't deserve anything, but Taka doesn't call him out on it. He's nice like that. Taka just lets out a shaky breath, eyes falling to his bandaged hand, scarlet shining brightly. Tears. He… he's crying again. Or will be. Mondo did that. He always does that. Taka bites his lip, which looks red and angry, and Mondo wonders if he split it. He bites it so often; it would make sense. Mondo licks his lips for the first time /since/, and he tastes something metallic. It's sickening. It's electrifying.
Taka shrugs. Taka sighs. Taka plays with the bandage. Taka speaks. Mondo listens. It's all he can do.
"N-no... I don't... I don't have a problem with you two," Taka starts, and Mondo can't help the disbelieving snort, the first hint of an emotion hitting him then. Taka glares at him mildly, and Mondo grimaces, the emotion dying. He tries to look apologetic. He bets he fails. Like always. Taka sighs again, softly, before continuing. "I do mean that, you know. I- I'm... I'm /glad/ that you have her, h-have another friend... really, I am! I... j-just..."
Taka pauses, squirming uncomfortably on the bed, eyes falling to his hands. He shrugs stiffly and tries for a smile. It looks strained. Like he doesn't mean it. Mondo tries not to let it destroy him further.
"I just... s-seeing you two, together... I- I don't know. It just... /hurts/. N-not that I'm upset with you about that! Please don't think that kyoudai! I... i-it just... reminds me. That I'm not... that we... hm. That I'm not special. That what we h-have... t-that while you're my /best friend/, I... a-and I worry. I worry that you... t-that you and her..."
Taka trails off and Mondo thinks he understands what Taka means. It makes the numbness spread, consuming him entirely, choking him, and he wonders what it is he's done wrong that makes it so Taka cannot see how much he means to him. How much he cares. How he'd do absolutely anything if it meant Taka would feel even a hint better. It must be his fault. Everything is his fault. He can't properly show his affection, _his love_, and Taka is suffering for it. Typical. So very, fucking typical.
"Ya think I'm gonna fuckin' replace ya. That's it... isn't it?" Mondo states dully, voice flat and emotionless. He watches as Taka flinches, gasping, eyes closed and body shaking and that's his fault too. All his fault. All his /fucking/ fault. He… he didn't… he…
And then Taka nods. Once, firm. A silent confession. And Mondo… Mondo…
His heart breaks. Again.
"Shit... Taka..."
Kneeling down once more, Mondo looks up at Taka, looks up at /everything/, needs Taka to see him, to /know/. He grabs Taka's hands, mindful of the injured one, and he presses as close as he dares. As close as he's allowed. Taka opens his eyes wide, breath shaky, and Mondo puts everything into this. It's his last chance. He needs Taka to understand. He's not going anywhere. He's never leaving. Not for anything. Not for any/one/. Taka is everything to him and no one will ever come close to Taka in Mondo's heart. No one. It's not possible.
"Ya don't ever have ta fuckin' worry 'bout that, okay? Like... /fuck/, man! S'like I always tell ya, Kiyo; yer the best goddamn thing ta ever happen ta me. An' yeah, Chi is great an' all, but he— fuck, I mean, /she/— s-she ain't got nothin' on ya. Like... at /all/, okay? No one could ever fuckin' replace ya. 'Cuz ya /are/ special, okay? Ta me... yer the most fuckin' special person I have ever fuckin' met. Chi could never replace yer friendship ta me, Taka. Never."
He means it. He means it. He means it so goddamn, fucking much. His heart is racing again, the numbness fading as anxiety takes its place, and he needs Taka to understand him. Please, please understand him. Even if Taka walks away from him, even if he refuses to ever see him again, he needs Taka to /understand, goddamnit/.
But then-
"I-it's not... i-it's not /friendship/ I'm worried about... w-with you and... and her..."
The silence that falls around them is stifling, all-encompassing, and it's all Mondo can do to stare. He stares at Taka and he thinks that, for once, /he/ understands. He always knew he was letting Taka get too close. Knew that Taka felt things for him that he shouldn't. It should scare him to hear it alluded to, should freak him out. Taka looks away from him, looks at their clasped hands, and Mondo knows that he's not. Afraid. Not right now. He will be later; he knows he will be. Knows he should sever this connection, should show Taka why alluding to such things about a monster is a bad idea, but for this moment, this one singular, solitary moment…
He can't. He can't.
He won't.
And so… lowly, voice barely a whisper, this moment feeling so fragile that anything louder will break it… he alludes his own truth. The truth he's fought so goddamn hard to keep hidden. If Taka can allude… then it's only right that he can, too.
"... yeah. Yeah, I uh... I got that. An', uh... f-fuck. My answer don't change. You... ya don't... don't got nothin' ta worry 'bout. Okay? Chi an' I... shit ain't like that. S-she... uh. S-she's great an' all, but... y'ain't got nothin' ta worry 'bout. So... fuck. Yeah."
Mondo is looking at their clasped hands now, the white stark against his tanned skin. He feels scarlet on him and he's helpless to do anything but look up, meeting the wide-eyed stare evenly, not afraid. Not right now. He will be later, of fucking course he will be. But not now. Not now.
"Oh," Taka says weakly, breath shaking. Mondo smiles a crooked half-smile, standing shakily.
"S-so. That, uh... that shit's dealt with, yeah? So. Um. Wanna... fuck. Wanna watch a movie or somethin'? Dinner ain't 'til 6:00, so... uh..."
Mondo shuffles awkwardly, hand raising to rub the back of his neck, feeling so fucking nervous for some reason. The last several minutes are so hazy to him, like he's waking from a goddamn dream, and he doesn't know what to feel. Hope, despair, self-hatred, /love/. So many things swirling within him and he doesn't know what any of it means. And then Taka is blinking up at him and he's… he's…
Smiling…
"Y-you know what... I- I think... I think I'd like to head back to the kitchen. Y-you and... and /Chi/ never finished baking your cookies, a-and I would like to try one! A-and... a-and you can... y-you can try one of mine if you'd like!"
The words are shaking, but they sound so fucking genuine to Mondo's ear. The kid stands, and he smiles, and Mondo feels something settle in his heart, his lips smiling gently, meaningfully, looking at Taka with everything he feels inside his heart. He has no idea what is going on right now, is clinging desperately to a rocket as it hurtles through space, but it's okay. It's okay. As long as he has Taka, as long as Taka is here with him… as long as they're together… it's okay. He knows his allusion and he knows what it means and it should scare him and it will scare him, but it doesn't now and that's what matters most. He'll freak out later. For now… he'll keep pretending that he can be what Taka needs.
And if what Taka wants is to head back to the kitchen and finish baking their shit, then… then that's what they'll fucking do. That's what they'll fucking do.
Nodding, Mondo smiles softly, holding out his hand to Taka, for once not afraid of what it means when he makes this offer. What he wants when he makes this offer. What he's actually asking for when he makes this offer. And Taka… Taka…
Taka accepts.
