[ He does feel a little prickle of guilt at that. Mostly because Esikko says that so bluntly, so easily -- 'I like him.' It had taken him ages to muster the courage to express that same sentiment, and even then, it hadn't been anywhere near this decisive.
And while it still pisses him off, because it's not like he has anything to prove to this asshole ... ]
so you're just gonna keep coming at me? or are you gonna drop it if i make it clear to you
( "Drop it", he says, like it's that easy. The thought makes him angry, because to him, to someone who would rewrite fates and screw with time itself to relieve any ounce of loneliness that he could, this isn't just some small thing. It's something he wants to chase like air itself, and the mere presence of anyone else feels like a threat, like a risk to himself, even when it's not fair— when he knows that this whole scenario is unusual, meant to play with emotions, to confuse people and twist their fates together. )
I don't know. I'm not trying to "come at you" or whatever.
But if you make it clear to me, I'll try my best to leave you alone about it. If it's clear to you. If it's not, I'd like to know too, and then I'll still try to leave you alone about it.
It should be simple to say one way or the other. I just don't want him to be hurt.
[ 'It should be simple,' Esikko says, and Fuuta grits his teeth, because -- is it? Is it really so simple? Maybe it is for Esikko, but for Fuuta ... it's not that the sentiment itself is untrue for him. But he's far too aware of the potential weight of those feelings, the danger of voicing those thoughts out loud, every one of the billion ways things could and probably will go wrong afterward.
That's the reason for the long pause after Esikko's message.
Then there's a ping for a voicecall. And the moment Esikko picks up -- ]
I'm not messing around with him. [ It's said stiffly, his voice emerging tight from nerves, but he still forges on regardless. ] It's not that I think I'm better or anything, either. But I'm not fucking -- playing around. I'm not trying to hurt him. It's ... special.
[ He'd switched to voice just because it had felt like the most effective way of getting his sincerity across, but it does mean he just kind of awkwardly peters off once he's said his part. Even through audio, his tension is almost palpable. ]
( There's hesitation in answering, because he's not sure if he's ready to hear an answer either way, not sure which direction he's supposed to hope it goes. But he answers, Fuuta speaks immediately, and Esikko listens. )
Special... ( It's the first thing he repeats, a whisper of an echo as he deals with the strange sensation in his chest, like he's been stabbed. It feels like relief and disappointment at the same time, a strange flip-flopping made worse by the tension he hears in Fuuta's voice, by the lack of anything more... simply put. )
So... he matters more? Than anyone else.
( His voice is softer than his usual, more like the tone he'd taken when they'd run into that room, slightly bloody and panting for breath with fully activated suits. His breath now isn't anywhere near as ragged, but there's a subtle shake to it. )
Because it seems like that's what you are. To him.
[ 'More' gives him pause. Quantifying emotions like that feels strange, especially because he's not used to having enough data points on that front worth comparing. Even worse is the prospect of quantifying Dabi's emotions on that axis, the thought immediately making his stomach twist itself into a knot, and Fuuta only responds with a nervous grunt at first. He inhales slowly, exhales even slower. And then, mumbled quietly: ]
I ... guess. It's just different. For him, and for everyone else here.
[ And here, he pauses, because he doesn't know what that wobble to Esikko's voice signifies. His first thought is that the guy might cry, and he has no fucking clue what to do if that happens. It's why he hastily adds, ]
Is that enough? What you wanted to know. S'not like I'm trying to ... rub it in your face or anything, alright. If there even is anything to do that with. You were the one who asked.
( The long, tense silence with only the occasional sound of him shifting in place speaks far more volumes than him rambling on would be. He rarely lets Fuuta have the last word, after all, but right now— right now, he's coming up blank, losing seconds in large chunks as he struggles to process, to think, to speak. )
I know.
( Another pause, another struggle, a foreign strain in his voice. He's not— crying, okay, but he's definitely struggling with a wave of emotions that make him want to act drastically, make him want to throw a fit, or act like a child, or... Or maybe cry, or maybe get angry, or break something, or break himself.
But he's just quiet, instead, and then he tries again. )
It just... doesn't feel like enough. You sound uncertain. But even with you uncertain, he still...
( His voice creaks to a stop as he fidgets where he is, more shifting noises covering up the silence. )
Nevermind. Just don't hurt him. It's not enough to try not to hurt him, you know? ( ... ) Does it not bother you? When I'm around, when I... You don't hate me for it?
[ Here, his temper gets the better of him, just for a moment. His voice is growly with exasperation when he responds. ]
Of course I sound uncertain, you ass. You think I've ever had to deal with any of this before? All the bullshit going down in this place, [ sex, he means the sex ] or seriously feeling like this about anyone, or someone else ... thinking someone else might -- be like that. About me.
[ It's not that he doubts Dabi. But still, putting that notion into words still makes his chest fill with bees, so he cuts himself off with a grunt.
It's followed by a hard sigh and the rustle of him scuffing a hand through his hair. Ugh. This sucks. He knows that Esikko's (probably) not being a pain in the ass on purpose, either, and any flares of his temper are (kind of) misdirected. So after another huffed exhale, he speaks again, his voice tempered back down to something calmer, at least closer to his usual register. ]
... whatever. Don't talk about me like I'm some ... shitty girlfriend mistreating him. And why would I hate you. I'm only gonna be annoyed if you keep hounding me about this shit.
( Though Esi's voice lifts in his desperation to explain his thoughts, to explain his worries, he cuts himself off immediately with a rather pathetic, frustrated breath. Because he gets annoyed at Fuuta's very existence, because he hated him at first sight just for standing in Dabi's kitchen, because— because how can he sound so uncertain, how can he sound so... unworried?
It's not fair, is what he thinks. None of this feels fair. The silence carries on too long. )
Whatever. It's not hounding you to ask questions out of concern. It's just... I don't normally...
( His voice wavers again, struggles and cuts off and pauses as he tries to find a way to express himself, but he can't. He doesn't know how, and it's with a frustrated noise that he gives up. )
... you weren't kidding about having never had friends, huh.
[ He doesn't even mean that disparagingly for once. Just, like, as a comment. Though he does sound a little weary as he says it.
It's not like he's going to blame Esikko for what sound like the fucked-up weirdo circumstances he grew up in? But he can't deny that it's a little exhausting, having to put up with this weird aggression because of it, when he didn't even do anything wrong.
Fuuta just grumbles in thought for a moment, awkwardly shifting and fidgeting with the folds of his hoodie where he's sitting, before answering. ]
Do you mean, like, you don't know how to act around anyone unless you're giving them shit. Or is it just me that you don't know how to act normally around. Because of everything that's going on.
( It's a quick snap, defensive, his voice still a little strained. It's a long pause after that, his breathing adjusting itself, his fingers settling from their fidgeting as he considers how to answer. )
I mean...
( Even when he plans it out, even when he knows what he should say, what he wants to say, how can he express it? He puffs out a breath. )
I always want things that I don't deserve, that I can't have. But this... this is the first time that I don't... I don't want to force it, to steal it.
( His voice is trembling too much. He doesn't like it. Doesn't like the way his chest aches when he talks, or his emotions threaten to rise to his eyes, like he's some kind of kid. Doesn't like that Fuuta gets to hear this, that anyone is, but he wants to explain at least a little. )
...I don't want to be selfish. But I can't stop feeling... ( Jealous, he can't say it. )
Ugh, listen. You... you know how to play those game things, right? Like the arcade, or whatever it's called. Would you... show me how? Let's just win him something together. It'll give me a way to feel like I'm doing something without... giving you a hard time. I guess.
Like, Fuuta knows he isn't soft or anything. Getting all mushy about emotions is some weak, girly shit, and this isn't even his problem in the first place. Whatever problems Esikko has with friendships, or unrequited crushes, or jealousy are his, and Fuuta knows that he's under no obligation to help untangle all that. (Not to mention, he doesn't want to think about how ridiculous it is that anyone's jealous of him. It's not supposed to be like that, not in any sort of meaningful way. His stomach hurts a little if he dwells on it for too long.) But even so, hearing the way Esikko's voice trembles, and he struggles through each sentence ... ugh.
Esikko is only answered with silence for a long moment. Then there's the sound of a heavy exhale. ]
Yeah, I can show you the arcade. Teach you how to play the games that'll get you the most tokens for prizes, or whatever.
[ Another pause, this one shorter. But Fuuta starts speaking, catches himself, corrects, then tries again, his voice an awkward mumble. ]
... but you know you don't need to, like, try to get along with me or anything, right. [ This feels ridiculous to say. And also a little cruel. Is it cruel? He doesn't even know any more. Fuuta makes an uncomfortable noise before forcing himself to continue, lest Esikko get the wrong idea. ] I mean -- it's not like I've been in your position before, but I know it sucks, having a crush go bad. Needing to see the winner be all ... happy, and shit. So if you wanted me to, like, avoid you ... I can. And you can do whatever, with Dabi, to make yourself feel better. If you want. Since it might be easier on you.
( There's a lot of silence between them, like this. It makes it feel worse, makes it all the more obvious how it's not Fuuta's fault, how that must mean it's his own, right? Esikko can't help but think that normally, anger would have flared up by now. That he'd be defensive at the suggestion, that he'd be angry at the ideas behind the word crush, that he'd be yelling about how he doesn't need his permission to do whatever he wants with Dabi, that it doesn't change anything.
But his anger feels... distant, right now. It's strange, it's lonely, when he can't even grasp onto something so familiar, and he spends a good few moments frowning at his Watch as he tries to figure it out. In the end, he can't. )
...I know. But I think if I avoided you, I'd avoid everyone, right now.
( How else can he explain that? He doesn't know. He just knows that he's been sleeping less, messing around with his magic more, more desperate to see some results, to try and earn some recognition. )
You can believe me or not, but I think... it's possible for us to get along. Despite everything. ( He's mumbling a little. ) I don't want you to feel pity for me, or anything, you know.
I’m not pitying you. I don’t bother with that stuff, it’s no good for anyone. It’s just … [ ngh. A nervous grumble before he reluctantly finishes. ] … it’s what I’d probably want. If I was in your position. That’s the only reason I offered.
[ Yeah. That’s the only way he can imagine tolerating the suffocating feeling of seeing someone you genuinely like go for someone else, instead. Especially if that other person isn’t particularly appealing.
… to some extent, he can’t even blame Esikko for being so pissy about this whole mess.
And to an equal extent, he has to respect that Esikko turned his offer down. That takes guts, he thinks. ]
… well, if you’re sure, then. Just don’t go snapping at me all the time about this, and I won’t rub it in your face. — I mean, I wouldn’t anyway, but … you know. You’re kind of an asshole, but you’re hardly the worst I know. Here, or back where I’m from. I think we could get along.
( Defensively, but still muted compared to his usual, Esikko can't help but retort with that. He feels like he's justified in his worries, in his concerns. Feels like it was right to point things out, here or there, to question things. He's not the type to back down, certainly, but he's not just snapping for no reason, right?
...Okay, well he does sometimes. Ugh. But not usually, not right now, not like this! )
Anyway. This hotel is only so big, anyway. I can't even avoid the people I do want to without them grabbing me in the hallways. ( ...He sighs, sounding tired. )
Um, we can do it whenever you want, I suppose. Just let me know a little in advance, since I've been working on magic at night.
Doesn't this technically count as you snapping over nothing. Since it's not like I did anything to you.
[ It's muttered softly, just because Fuuta can't fucking stand letting an argument like this where he feels like he's lost, but it's also not like there's a lot of bite to his delivery. His words are capped off with a quiet sigh, then the scuffling sounds of him rubbing a hand awkwardly at the back of his neck.
There's so much here he feels like he should be questioning. Where should he even start. -- well, with the easy stuff, he supposes. ]
I dunno your schedule, but I'm at the arcade a ton. There's vouchers for food and clothes in some of the machines there, and it's more reliable there than trying to win stuff from the main casino floor. Fewer people there giving you shit about your rank, too. [ It hasn't escaped his notice that Esikko's on the same shit tier as him. He doesn't know if Esikko is sensitive to treatment from the staff or not, but surely having fewer dirty looks thrown your way while you're minding your own business is a net positive. ] Just message me whenever you're bored, and I can probably head over if I'm not already there. Just not in the morning, I don't get up that early.
[ A pause, then. Followed by a small sigh. And then, grudging, because he doesn't really want to ask, but he feels like it's only right: ]
... and you know you should probably tell someone about it if you're getting, like, harassed or whatever, right. People grabbing you in the hallways. That's still kinda messed up, whatever's going on there.
[ Yes, he's kind of asking for details, there. No, he refuses to word it in such straightforward terms. ]
...No, it doesn't, since it has nothing to do with you doing anything to me.
( He could elaborate, but he doesn't want to, he thinks. It's tiring, talking about any of this, being honest at all, being vulnerable to someone he doesn't even want to be vulnerable with. At the same time, though, this is... something new. Something he hasn't tried, something that might change things, fix things in some small way here in the days leading up to a decision he's already made up his mind on.
The last part gets a long pause, though, and it almost seems like Esikko isn't going to reply— until he does. )
Dabi knows. ( His voice has been quiet the whole conversation, but there's an especially defeated tone as he says that, as he talks about any of this. ) I was kidnapped walking out of his room by that dog just right across the hall for three days. I don't even know if you noticed I was missing, since it's not like I own a room there or anything...
( Another pause, a sigh. Every word sounds avoidant, like there's a lot he's not filling in. There is. )
He's not some risk or anything, especially not to anyone else. He used to be my bodyguard, and he thinks he knows better than me, or whatever. It's just stupid.
[ A brief pause. Then because, as usual, he has no impulse control, Fuuta ends up muttering, ]
Why the hell would I have assumed you were kidnapped if you were gone for a few days. Any normal person would just think you were staying with someone else.
[ Which is to say, no, he hadn’t noticed at all. For some reason, he feels a tiny bit bad about it.
That aside, he follows up his shitty excuse with a low grunt, not sure of what to say. Maybe — ]
Your bodyguard. So he’s the guy that you killed before, huh. [ He grimaces to himself. Saying that out loud felt worse than he’d expected it to be. Then maybe — ] Is that what you meant that he’s still obsessed with you or whatever? [ Oh, no, that feels even worse. There’s a trace of fluster creeping into his voice when he clears his throat and tries again. ] I mean, that’s still messed up, though. Even if you came back, and even if the guy has his reasons. … guess it’s hard to do anything about it, though, if he’s ranked that high and you’re … not.
[ This really is just all coming out wrong. There’s a grudging pause before finally, he gives a small sigh and admits defeat by properly, somewhat sincerely managing: ]
( Are you okay? What a simple question, and yet Esikko is left considering it for far too long. Left thinking about just how many people have ever asked him anything like that, have ever seriously wondered. He frowns to himself, picking lightly at the edges of his Watch as he answers. )
I'm fine. His new little boyfriend gave me a scar, though. That... one on my chest, if you... remember.
( From their little hookup, he means. It wasn't over his heart, but mirrored on the other side, straight and made by a knife, deep and recent. )
Aside from that and the downrank, it was mostly just humiliating. I'm not very strong, so of course I couldn't get out from handcuffs chained to a bed, and I couldn't use any magic, either. I tried yelling, but the walls are rather thick on the higher levels, it seems.
[ Fuuta is uncharacteristically silent in response, and for a longer moment than Esikko might have expected. When he does speak, his voice is quiet, grim. ]
… I dunno if I could talk about it like that, if that were me. Saying its “just humiliating.” If I went through that.
[ Handcuffed to a bed, screaming for help, left helpless while being scarred. It sounds like the sort of horrific shit that should only happen in horror movies or true crime shows, not in real life. And yet, here they are, with Esikko saying he’s fine.
Fuuta exhales roughly, hating the way his mind conjures images that feel just a little too vivid. Maybe it doesn’t help that he knows all too well what it feels like to be hurt by someone and knowing they’re enjoying it, thinking it’s justified. ]
That’s fucked up, that it happened to you. Something like that shouldn’t happen to anyone. You should be angrier about it, I think.
( It's interesting, because he's leaving a lot out. A lot that he doesn't think he can bring himself to say, and a lot that he doesn't think any normal minded person would ever want to hear, anyway. But at the same time, he's not upset like any normal minded person would be either, is he? He's just annoyed, he's angry, sure, but because he wasn't strong enough. The scar over his chest is annoying as hell, it's hypocritical, it's all over something he was asked to do, something he was paid for, and yet—
And yet he still wonders. )
...What if I deserved it?
( He scrubs at his face a little, fingers running through his hair and letting the audio sit in a few more seconds of silence before he continues. )
They seemed to think I did, and it's not as if I'm a good person. You've said similar before, haven't you? I am someone who's killed people.
[ He’s given the matter a moment of thought, but he’s ultimately too tired to mull over it for too long. Fuuta’s answer is quiet and hoarse, muted. (Days, weeks, months he’d mulled over it in Milgram. He’s tired. ]
I dunno, alright. … I used to think anyone who did something wrong deserved to be punished, and shouldn’t get to complain. But I dunno any more. Maybe it’s not that simple.
[ Maybe some things are wrong, regardless. Or maybe sometime it’s just not any of his business, what someone’s done wrong, what they deserve.
Esikko might hear the sounds of a mattress creaking and sheets rustling as Fuuta flops over from where he’d been sitting. He inhaled, hesitates, then exhales before speaking. ]
Do you think you deserved it? To be asking me stuff like that. … if you’re trying to say you deserved it, so it’s not my business, then I get that, too. I’ll leave it be.
No, I don't. But when so many people insist that you do, isn't it natural to doubt that?
( Once again, he doesn't feel like he's just speaking for his own issues here. Thinking that anything who did something "wrong" deserved to be punished has him immediately thinking back to Dabi, has him wondering, worrying, and then pushing it all aside. )
I don't know why I'm talking here, like this. Maybe it's just that I'm not used to having the opportunity. ( Most people don't seem to listen. Here, it's somehow different. )
[ The words come soft, much softer than Fuuta usually ever permits himself to sound. Less gentle, more weary, but sympathetic nonetheless. ]
I get what you mean. How it messes with your head, when there’s too many people saying that kinda stuff, over and over again. … how you start believing that, ‘cause you feel like you’re gonna go insane otherwise.
[ Fuuta peters off with a sigh before he slouches where he’s sitting; there’s the rustle of fabric as he thoughtlessly tugs down the hood of his hoodie, finding comfort in that familiar shadow falling over his brow. Maybe just a little of the usual toughguy bluster has faded from his voice when he speaks again. ]
Well, you can talk if you want. I’m not gonna promise I’ll always be on your side, but I can listen, at least. I know those old school traditional types think you gotta just bottle everything up, but that’s dumb. Might as well let it out. [ He says, when he would absolutely refuse to ever talk about his own issues. But you know, it’s different when it’s for someone else, so. He means it, when he says he’ll listen. ]
( Well, at least that last sentence earns a laugh out of Esikko, even if it's more like a breath, or a scoff. )
I guess that may be true here, but it certainly wasn't at home. Everything a crown prince says is taken apart piece by piece.
( What can he even say, anyway? There's so much he hasn't, so much that he's not used to, that he doesn't even know where to begin without specific prompting. Instead, his mind wanders to future plans. To the chain he's going to break from Kirma. To the realization that by not trying to force Dabi into one in exchange, he'll truly be alone. To the way he's been slowly picking at the seams of the House, and now he finally thinks he's found a crack to pry open...
Hm. )
I plan on trying something. Against the House. ( It seems out of nowhere, because of course it is. But it's been at the back of his mind for months now, ramping up even more with every emotional change in him, with every single decision or action against him that makes him want to be more reckless in exchange. )
Can I tell you when I'm about to do it, so you can notice if I go missing?
[ Wh -- what is with people here just changing subjects on a dime. He barely gets the chance to roll his eyes about the 'crown prince' nonsense before Esikko comes in with the swerve, and Fuuta ends up making an incredulous noise. ]
Haa? Against the House? What -- [ Actually, no, he doesn't really want to know. Doesn't want to get dragged into suicidal bullshit this is. ] -- isn't that dangerous?
[ No, he knows that's a stupid question. He doesn't want for an answer before giving a dubious huff, not giving Esikko a chance to answer. There's some more important he wants to address, instead: ]
I mean. You can tell me whatever you want. But I better not be the only one you're telling. Like -- you know I can't do anything if you go missing, right. [ Yet again, frustration creeps into his voice. It's not like he likes feeling so weak and helpless, especially in comparison to everyone here who can fight, or use magic, or whatever else. ] So I dunno why you'd tell me, unless it's so I'll let someone else know. [ Dabi, presumably. ] ... you could tell'em yourself.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
And while it still pisses him off, because it's not like he has anything to prove to this asshole ... ]
so you're just gonna keep coming at me?
or are you gonna drop it if i make it clear to you
no subject
I don't know. I'm not trying to "come at you" or whatever.
But if you make it clear to me, I'll try my best to leave you alone about it. If it's clear to you. If it's not, I'd like to know too, and then I'll still try to leave you alone about it.
It should be simple to say one way or the other. I just don't want him to be hurt.
no subject
That's the reason for the long pause after Esikko's message.
Then there's a ping for a voicecall. And the moment Esikko picks up -- ]
I'm not messing around with him. [ It's said stiffly, his voice emerging tight from nerves, but he still forges on regardless. ] It's not that I think I'm better or anything, either. But I'm not fucking -- playing around. I'm not trying to hurt him. It's ... special.
[ He'd switched to voice just because it had felt like the most effective way of getting his sincerity across, but it does mean he just kind of awkwardly peters off once he's said his part. Even through audio, his tension is almost palpable. ]
no subject
Special... ( It's the first thing he repeats, a whisper of an echo as he deals with the strange sensation in his chest, like he's been stabbed. It feels like relief and disappointment at the same time, a strange flip-flopping made worse by the tension he hears in Fuuta's voice, by the lack of anything more... simply put. )
So... he matters more? Than anyone else.
( His voice is softer than his usual, more like the tone he'd taken when they'd run into that room, slightly bloody and panting for breath with fully activated suits. His breath now isn't anywhere near as ragged, but there's a subtle shake to it. )
Because it seems like that's what you are. To him.
no subject
I ... guess. It's just different. For him, and for everyone else here.
[ And here, he pauses, because he doesn't know what that wobble to Esikko's voice signifies. His first thought is that the guy might cry, and he has no fucking clue what to do if that happens. It's why he hastily adds, ]
Is that enough? What you wanted to know. S'not like I'm trying to ... rub it in your face or anything, alright. If there even is anything to do that with. You were the one who asked.
no subject
I know.
( Another pause, another struggle, a foreign strain in his voice. He's not— crying, okay, but he's definitely struggling with a wave of emotions that make him want to act drastically, make him want to throw a fit, or act like a child, or... Or maybe cry, or maybe get angry, or break something, or break himself.
But he's just quiet, instead, and then he tries again. )
It just... doesn't feel like enough. You sound uncertain. But even with you uncertain, he still...
( His voice creaks to a stop as he fidgets where he is, more shifting noises covering up the silence. )
Nevermind. Just don't hurt him. It's not enough to try not to hurt him, you know? ( ... ) Does it not bother you? When I'm around, when I... You don't hate me for it?
no subject
Of course I sound uncertain, you ass. You think I've ever had to deal with any of this before? All the bullshit going down in this place, [ sex, he means the sex ] or seriously feeling like this about anyone, or someone else ... thinking someone else might -- be like that. About me.
[ It's not that he doubts Dabi. But still, putting that notion into words still makes his chest fill with bees, so he cuts himself off with a grunt.
It's followed by a hard sigh and the rustle of him scuffing a hand through his hair. Ugh. This sucks. He knows that Esikko's (probably) not being a pain in the ass on purpose, either, and any flares of his temper are (kind of) misdirected. So after another huffed exhale, he speaks again, his voice tempered back down to something calmer, at least closer to his usual register. ]
... whatever. Don't talk about me like I'm some ... shitty girlfriend mistreating him. And why would I hate you. I'm only gonna be annoyed if you keep hounding me about this shit.
no subject
( Though Esi's voice lifts in his desperation to explain his thoughts, to explain his worries, he cuts himself off immediately with a rather pathetic, frustrated breath. Because he gets annoyed at Fuuta's very existence, because he hated him at first sight just for standing in Dabi's kitchen, because— because how can he sound so uncertain, how can he sound so... unworried?
It's not fair, is what he thinks. None of this feels fair. The silence carries on too long. )
Whatever. It's not hounding you to ask questions out of concern. It's just... I don't normally...
( His voice wavers again, struggles and cuts off and pauses as he tries to find a way to express himself, but he can't. He doesn't know how, and it's with a frustrated noise that he gives up. )
I don't know what else to do, okay.
no subject
[ He doesn't even mean that disparagingly for once. Just, like, as a comment. Though he does sound a little weary as he says it.
It's not like he's going to blame Esikko for what sound like the fucked-up weirdo circumstances he grew up in? But he can't deny that it's a little exhausting, having to put up with this weird aggression because of it, when he didn't even do anything wrong.
Fuuta just grumbles in thought for a moment, awkwardly shifting and fidgeting with the folds of his hoodie where he's sitting, before answering. ]
Do you mean, like, you don't know how to act around anyone unless you're giving them shit. Or is it just me that you don't know how to act normally around. Because of everything that's going on.
no subject
( It's a quick snap, defensive, his voice still a little strained. It's a long pause after that, his breathing adjusting itself, his fingers settling from their fidgeting as he considers how to answer. )
I mean...
( Even when he plans it out, even when he knows what he should say, what he wants to say, how can he express it? He puffs out a breath. )
I always want things that I don't deserve, that I can't have. But this... this is the first time that I don't... I don't want to force it, to steal it.
( His voice is trembling too much. He doesn't like it. Doesn't like the way his chest aches when he talks, or his emotions threaten to rise to his eyes, like he's some kind of kid. Doesn't like that Fuuta gets to hear this, that anyone is, but he wants to explain at least a little. )
...I don't want to be selfish. But I can't stop feeling... ( Jealous, he can't say it. )
Ugh, listen. You... you know how to play those game things, right? Like the arcade, or whatever it's called. Would you... show me how? Let's just win him something together. It'll give me a way to feel like I'm doing something without... giving you a hard time. I guess.
no subject
Like, Fuuta knows he isn't soft or anything. Getting all mushy about emotions is some weak, girly shit, and this isn't even his problem in the first place. Whatever problems Esikko has with friendships, or unrequited crushes, or jealousy are his, and Fuuta knows that he's under no obligation to help untangle all that. (Not to mention, he doesn't want to think about how ridiculous it is that anyone's jealous of him. It's not supposed to be like that, not in any sort of meaningful way. His stomach hurts a little if he dwells on it for too long.) But even so, hearing the way Esikko's voice trembles, and he struggles through each sentence ... ugh.
Esikko is only answered with silence for a long moment. Then there's the sound of a heavy exhale. ]
Yeah, I can show you the arcade. Teach you how to play the games that'll get you the most tokens for prizes, or whatever.
[ Another pause, this one shorter. But Fuuta starts speaking, catches himself, corrects, then tries again, his voice an awkward mumble. ]
... but you know you don't need to, like, try to get along with me or anything, right. [ This feels ridiculous to say. And also a little cruel. Is it cruel? He doesn't even know any more. Fuuta makes an uncomfortable noise before forcing himself to continue, lest Esikko get the wrong idea. ] I mean -- it's not like I've been in your position before, but I know it sucks, having a crush go bad. Needing to see the winner be all ... happy, and shit. So if you wanted me to, like, avoid you ... I can. And you can do whatever, with Dabi, to make yourself feel better. If you want. Since it might be easier on you.
no subject
But his anger feels... distant, right now. It's strange, it's lonely, when he can't even grasp onto something so familiar, and he spends a good few moments frowning at his Watch as he tries to figure it out. In the end, he can't. )
...I know. But I think if I avoided you, I'd avoid everyone, right now.
( How else can he explain that? He doesn't know. He just knows that he's been sleeping less, messing around with his magic more, more desperate to see some results, to try and earn some recognition. )
You can believe me or not, but I think... it's possible for us to get along. Despite everything. ( He's mumbling a little. ) I don't want you to feel pity for me, or anything, you know.
no subject
[ Yeah. That’s the only way he can imagine tolerating the suffocating feeling of seeing someone you genuinely like go for someone else, instead. Especially if that other person isn’t particularly appealing.
… to some extent, he can’t even blame Esikko for being so pissy about this whole mess.
And to an equal extent, he has to respect that Esikko turned his offer down. That takes guts, he thinks. ]
… well, if you’re sure, then. Just don’t go snapping at me all the time about this, and I won’t rub it in your face. — I mean, I wouldn’t anyway, but … you know. You’re kind of an asshole, but you’re hardly the worst I know. Here, or back where I’m from. I think we could get along.
no subject
( Defensively, but still muted compared to his usual, Esikko can't help but retort with that. He feels like he's justified in his worries, in his concerns. Feels like it was right to point things out, here or there, to question things. He's not the type to back down, certainly, but he's not just snapping for no reason, right?
...Okay, well he does sometimes. Ugh. But not usually, not right now, not like this! )
Anyway. This hotel is only so big, anyway. I can't even avoid the people I do want to without them grabbing me in the hallways. ( ...He sighs, sounding tired. )
Um, we can do it whenever you want, I suppose. Just let me know a little in advance, since I've been working on magic at night.
no subject
[ It's muttered softly, just because Fuuta can't fucking stand letting an argument like this where he feels like he's lost, but it's also not like there's a lot of bite to his delivery. His words are capped off with a quiet sigh, then the scuffling sounds of him rubbing a hand awkwardly at the back of his neck.
There's so much here he feels like he should be questioning. Where should he even start. -- well, with the easy stuff, he supposes. ]
I dunno your schedule, but I'm at the arcade a ton. There's vouchers for food and clothes in some of the machines there, and it's more reliable there than trying to win stuff from the main casino floor. Fewer people there giving you shit about your rank, too. [ It hasn't escaped his notice that Esikko's on the same shit tier as him. He doesn't know if Esikko is sensitive to treatment from the staff or not, but surely having fewer dirty looks thrown your way while you're minding your own business is a net positive. ] Just message me whenever you're bored, and I can probably head over if I'm not already there. Just not in the morning, I don't get up that early.
[ A pause, then. Followed by a small sigh. And then, grudging, because he doesn't really want to ask, but he feels like it's only right: ]
... and you know you should probably tell someone about it if you're getting, like, harassed or whatever, right. People grabbing you in the hallways. That's still kinda messed up, whatever's going on there.
[ Yes, he's kind of asking for details, there. No, he refuses to word it in such straightforward terms. ]
no subject
( He could elaborate, but he doesn't want to, he thinks. It's tiring, talking about any of this, being honest at all, being vulnerable to someone he doesn't even want to be vulnerable with. At the same time, though, this is... something new. Something he hasn't tried, something that might change things, fix things in some small way here in the days leading up to a decision he's already made up his mind on.
The last part gets a long pause, though, and it almost seems like Esikko isn't going to reply— until he does. )
Dabi knows. ( His voice has been quiet the whole conversation, but there's an especially defeated tone as he says that, as he talks about any of this. ) I was kidnapped walking out of his room by that dog just right across the hall for three days. I don't even know if you noticed I was missing, since it's not like I own a room there or anything...
( Another pause, a sigh. Every word sounds avoidant, like there's a lot he's not filling in. There is. )
He's not some risk or anything, especially not to anyone else. He used to be my bodyguard, and he thinks he knows better than me, or whatever. It's just stupid.
no subject
Why the hell would I have assumed you were kidnapped if you were gone for a few days. Any normal person would just think you were staying with someone else.
[ Which is to say, no, he hadn’t noticed at all. For some reason, he feels a tiny bit bad about it.
That aside, he follows up his shitty excuse with a low grunt, not sure of what to say. Maybe — ]
Your bodyguard. So he’s the guy that you killed before, huh. [ He grimaces to himself. Saying that out loud felt worse than he’d expected it to be. Then maybe — ] Is that what you meant that he’s still obsessed with you or whatever? [ Oh, no, that feels even worse. There’s a trace of fluster creeping into his voice when he clears his throat and tries again. ] I mean, that’s still messed up, though. Even if you came back, and even if the guy has his reasons. … guess it’s hard to do anything about it, though, if he’s ranked that high and you’re … not.
[ This really is just all coming out wrong. There’s a grudging pause before finally, he gives a small sigh and admits defeat by properly, somewhat sincerely managing: ]
… are you okay?
no subject
( Are you okay? What a simple question, and yet Esikko is left considering it for far too long. Left thinking about just how many people have ever asked him anything like that, have ever seriously wondered. He frowns to himself, picking lightly at the edges of his Watch as he answers. )
I'm fine. His new little boyfriend gave me a scar, though. That... one on my chest, if you... remember.
( From their little hookup, he means. It wasn't over his heart, but mirrored on the other side, straight and made by a knife, deep and recent. )
Aside from that and the downrank, it was mostly just humiliating. I'm not very strong, so of course I couldn't get out from handcuffs chained to a bed, and I couldn't use any magic, either. I tried yelling, but the walls are rather thick on the higher levels, it seems.
no subject
… I dunno if I could talk about it like that, if that were me. Saying its “just humiliating.” If I went through that.
[ Handcuffed to a bed, screaming for help, left helpless while being scarred. It sounds like the sort of horrific shit that should only happen in horror movies or true crime shows, not in real life. And yet, here they are, with Esikko saying he’s fine.
Fuuta exhales roughly, hating the way his mind conjures images that feel just a little too vivid. Maybe it doesn’t help that he knows all too well what it feels like to be hurt by someone and knowing they’re enjoying it, thinking it’s justified. ]
That’s fucked up, that it happened to you. Something like that shouldn’t happen to anyone. You should be angrier about it, I think.
no subject
And yet he still wonders. )
...What if I deserved it?
( He scrubs at his face a little, fingers running through his hair and letting the audio sit in a few more seconds of silence before he continues. )
They seemed to think I did, and it's not as if I'm a good person. You've said similar before, haven't you? I am someone who's killed people.
no subject
[ He’s given the matter a moment of thought, but he’s ultimately too tired to mull over it for too long. Fuuta’s answer is quiet and hoarse, muted. (Days, weeks, months he’d mulled over it in Milgram. He’s tired. ]
I dunno, alright. … I used to think anyone who did something wrong deserved to be punished, and shouldn’t get to complain. But I dunno any more. Maybe it’s not that simple.
[ Maybe some things are wrong, regardless. Or maybe sometime it’s just not any of his business, what someone’s done wrong, what they deserve.
Esikko might hear the sounds of a mattress creaking and sheets rustling as Fuuta flops over from where he’d been sitting. He inhaled, hesitates, then exhales before speaking. ]
Do you think you deserved it? To be asking me stuff like that. … if you’re trying to say you deserved it, so it’s not my business, then I get that, too. I’ll leave it be.
no subject
( Once again, he doesn't feel like he's just speaking for his own issues here. Thinking that anything who did something "wrong" deserved to be punished has him immediately thinking back to Dabi, has him wondering, worrying, and then pushing it all aside. )
I don't know why I'm talking here, like this. Maybe it's just that I'm not used to having the opportunity. ( Most people don't seem to listen. Here, it's somehow different. )
no subject
[ The words come soft, much softer than Fuuta usually ever permits himself to sound. Less gentle, more weary, but sympathetic nonetheless. ]
I get what you mean. How it messes with your head, when there’s too many people saying that kinda stuff, over and over again. … how you start believing that, ‘cause you feel like you’re gonna go insane otherwise.
[ Fuuta peters off with a sigh before he slouches where he’s sitting; there’s the rustle of fabric as he thoughtlessly tugs down the hood of his hoodie, finding comfort in that familiar shadow falling over his brow. Maybe just a little of the usual toughguy bluster has faded from his voice when he speaks again. ]
Well, you can talk if you want. I’m not gonna promise I’ll always be on your side, but I can listen, at least. I know those old school traditional types think you gotta just bottle everything up, but that’s dumb. Might as well let it out. [ He says, when he would absolutely refuse to ever talk about his own issues. But you know, it’s different when it’s for someone else, so. He means it, when he says he’ll listen. ]
no subject
I guess that may be true here, but it certainly wasn't at home. Everything a crown prince says is taken apart piece by piece.
( What can he even say, anyway? There's so much he hasn't, so much that he's not used to, that he doesn't even know where to begin without specific prompting. Instead, his mind wanders to future plans. To the chain he's going to break from Kirma. To the realization that by not trying to force Dabi into one in exchange, he'll truly be alone. To the way he's been slowly picking at the seams of the House, and now he finally thinks he's found a crack to pry open...
Hm. )
I plan on trying something. Against the House. ( It seems out of nowhere, because of course it is. But it's been at the back of his mind for months now, ramping up even more with every emotional change in him, with every single decision or action against him that makes him want to be more reckless in exchange. )
Can I tell you when I'm about to do it, so you can notice if I go missing?
no subject
Haa? Against the House? What -- [ Actually, no, he doesn't really want to know. Doesn't want to get dragged into suicidal bullshit this is. ] -- isn't that dangerous?
[ No, he knows that's a stupid question. He doesn't want for an answer before giving a dubious huff, not giving Esikko a chance to answer. There's some more important he wants to address, instead: ]
I mean. You can tell me whatever you want. But I better not be the only one you're telling. Like -- you know I can't do anything if you go missing, right. [ Yet again, frustration creeps into his voice. It's not like he likes feeling so weak and helpless, especially in comparison to everyone here who can fight, or use magic, or whatever else. ] So I dunno why you'd tell me, unless it's so I'll let someone else know. [ Dabi, presumably. ] ... you could tell'em yourself.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)