luckless | [RYSLIG] IC Inbox

[That gets a sort of slackjawed expression from Souda for a moment as he sits there with the papers in his hand like a robot processing a new command. It's weird, like, Komaeda laughed and usually Souda takes that as condescending, but it was more of a laugh like Giorno's when they first met. And then he went and said he trusts him. It's a lot at once.]

Ah— Yeah. Cool.

[Wow, impressive response. Souda leans back away enough to look over the schematics again and, rather than focus on the awkwardness of it all, and remembers that he can also conveniently change the subject—]

Hey, these are yours. I already ate.

[He slides the little container Makoto's food is in toward Komaeda.]

[It's probably for the best that Souda doesn't really say much more than that, because if he did, then even Komaeda would start to feel awkward. What's so bad about trusting the Ultimate Mechanic with building you a new arm???

But he accepts the container of sandwiches that slides his way, and plops it into his lap soon after.]

You said Makoto-san made these, right? I'll have to thank her later...

[He opens the container's lid and pulls out a sandwich. Then, between his one hand and his teeth, he unwraps it from its protective tin foil to take a bite.]

Hmm... what kind of stuff does she like? [He speaks around his mouthful before swallowing.] Do you know, Souda-kun?

Well, I dunno what she likes to eat, but, she does like to punch stuff...

[He kind of quiets a little, staring ahead very seriously, reminding himself never to make Makoto angry. Then he scoots away enough on his rear so that he can lay his schematics down on the floor and start annotating them according to the measurements he's taken.]

She called herself a 'normal' girl, and I dunno if being an idol really counts as normal, but, she always wears like... girly stuff, y'know?

[He pauses mid-way through another note before he mentions, less-obnoxiously-dreamily than usual, at least—]

The kind of girls that just like to look cute and girly... It totally makes sense that Sonia would like a girl with that kind of aesthetic.

[She... she likes to punch stuff??

Well, that's not the weirdest thought. Owari was always looking for a fight—but the way Souda frames it, it doesn't sound like Makoto's quite like their classmate. And when he met her, wasn't she rather timid?]

I thought you would know her well since you live together, but could it be... [His words trail as he stops himself before he can finish that thought. He probably shouldn't accuse Souda of letting his obsession cloud his view of others, even if it's probably true.] ...Never mind.

[Rather, Komaeda stares down at Souda where he's hunched over and cocks his head to look at the marks being jot down on that piece of paper.]

Don't you think it's time to give up, Souda-kun? I mean, Sonia-san has a girlfriend... and she's even rejected you enough times to make you look like a stalker.

If anything, it really shows how wonderful she is for remaining friends with you after all that!

[Souda twitches almost like he's been stabbed in the back, tail sticking out straight for a moment before curling around his side. He stops marking things down, instead flipping the pen between his fingers a few times with his nerves.

Things have already changed! But, he has to remind himself, Komaeda doesn't know that. How could he, when Souda can't even put into words how they've changed, anyway? It isn't just because of Despair, either— it's being here, it's the Imposter Sonia, it's Makoto. Everything's different.

And through it all, Sonia's still so important. Maybe more important than she was before, even if it's important in a different way.]

I never said I was gonna get in their way.

[He huffs a sigh through his nostrils, going back to scribbling.]

That doesn't... That doesn't mean I'm not gonna feel how I feel, though.

Sonia's amazing. That's that. A-and it wasn't that... bad...

[It... was a little worse on the island than it was in school, maybe. but everyone's an embarrassing freshman! Right? R-right???]

[As Souda fidgets, Komaeda's gaze remains unsettlingly steady upon him.]

I wasn't accusing you of getting in their way.

[His reply comes in sharp and short, but the expression he wears is... curiosity, maybe? Like he's still trying to figure out why Souda is so obsessed with Sonia. The reality is, he doesn't get it, but that's likely due to circumstances he won't address more than anything else.

Komaeda pulls his legs out from under him, only to bring his knees to his chest while he continues to nibble bites off of his sandwich.]

Is it a selfless love, then? Like... you don't expect it to be returned, but you want to give it your all?

[At least if it were something like that, then Komaeda could understand it a bit better.]

[Souda stops writing again, then, staring at the page, halted by Komaeda's question.]

...I dunno.

I just want...

[To be useful? To protect her? To protect them both?

Souda really isn't sure, and that frustrates him even more than Komaeda asking him in the first place. His tail swings and thumps against the wall behind him, which seems to startle him for a moment.]

Dude, I dunno! What kind of question is that, anyway?

Isn't it a normal one?

[What Souda? Bros don't just ask each other about their weird love-obsessions??

But really, Komaeda does look confused, as if he feels like this really is a normal question to ask. Or a normal topic to even needle someone about. The depth and awkwardness is a bit lost on him, and it shows in the way that he tilts his head as if he's a dog trying to listen a bit better.]

It's just that... we don't really know much about each other, Souda-kun. As far as I know, you just like machines and Sonia-san... and I don't really understand machines much, so I'm asking about your other passion.

[He pauses before taking another chunk out of his sandwich.]

I'm glad that you don't creep her out now though, back in the simulation, it was always a bit uncomfortable... don't you think?

[Souda might like to focus on how Komaeda's just opened up the idea that Souda doesn't properly know these people, but instead, he's distracted by that last comment.]

Wh— No! I mean— yeah, maybe, it's—

E-everyone's embarrassing when they're a freshman, okay!

[The room might start to feel a little hotter with Souda's fluster.]

It wasn't... that bad... in school.

Y-you just don't remember.

Embarrassing is one thing, but weren’t you being actively avoided before?

[And that went beyond just freshman year, too. That was in the simulation, which is still pretty recent for him.]

But I guess that really just goes to show how far you’ve come! Isn’t that good, then?

[A short gust of laughter winds from his lungs, but with the growing heat in the already cloistered air between them, he’s tugging at the scoop neck collar of his shirt.]

Um... Souda-kun? I’m sorry if I upset you... but please don’t burn down my apartment?

[That stops Souda mid-response. He just stares at Komaeda, wide-eyed and freaked out as usual.]

Oh man, you're right. It's too hot for this...

[He gets to his feet quickly, opening up the Apartment's window and leaning out of it. While he's there, he breathes out the fire that's been building up in him, and that heat in the apartment gets the chance to diffuse.]

I have to do this like every damn day now!

[who's trying to change the subject??? not Souda, he's simply cooling off,]

[Lucky for Souda then, that Komaeda isn't so stubborn to stick to the subject of his classmate's one-sided love.

Rather, as he watches Souda hang his head out of the window, allowing the hot air to escape and a cool breeze to flow in, he finishes his sandwich.]

What's it like having fire powers?

[He asks as he dusts the crumbs from his fingers and pushes himself back up to standing. Komaeda walks over to that window where Souda is, and shoves himself into the sliver of space left. His eyes close, as he enjoys the way the winter air swathes his heated face.]

I'm... probably going to be going through my first changes soon, huh? Everyone says they start after a month. [A pause.] It's scary but... also kind of exciting, isn't it? I wonder what I'll become.

[Souda scoots over just enough so it's not ~weird~, but doesn't give up too much space.]

It's only been good for one thing so far... otherwise, what a pain in the ass.

[He turns his gaze to Komaeda, looks him up and down, and adds—]

I have no idea what you'd be. I thought for sure I was gonna turn into one of those robot dudes, but you....

I'd say it doesn't fit, but I said that about Nanami being a plant-chick, too.

[Komaeda's elbows find the windowsill, where he leans his weight and hangs his head out to enjoy the cold.]

Makes sense, we don't know much about each other! [He exhales a laugh, the sound of it caught in the breeze as his eyes slip closed,] but Nanami-san as a nymph... that makes sense. She was gentle and nurturing, wasn't she?

[As fragmented as his memories are, those from his school days have become a bit less foggy with time.]

Maybe I'll become one of those shadowy guys... have you seen them? Ah... they're called shades, I think?

That's just what Sonia said, too...

[Souda notes of Nanami. And it's true, he'd think of Nanami as kind and nurturing as well... but maybe he's been thinking of the monsters incorrectly.]

I'd think so, but that's too easy. Maybe you're one of those rabbit dudes, like Steve.

You know—

[He waves a hand in front of himself;]

— how they change their face.

[Or rather, how they change everything but their face to disguise themselves, but he's kind of gotten the details mixed up.]

[Like Steve, oh— Komaeda wonders if Souda knows that they're neighbors? Probably not, but it is interesting to see that they already know some of the same people. Perhaps Ryslig is a bit smaller than he thought.

Still, those words catch him off guard, and as he turns to look at Souda, he cocks a brow, confused. With how close they're saddled next to each other, even the way even his nose wrinkles with mild upset is noticeable.]

I've always been honest.

[He huffs.]

I don't like to lie... it's just that sometimes if I have to, I will.

[Komaeda turns his head forward again, rather than eyeing Souda with his own prickling irritation.]

If you were to ask me a question, I would answer honestly.

It's not that.

[Souda actually notices certain things about Komaeda's body language, from this close. The idea that he's pressed on a nerve. But he doesn't back down as immediately as he may have before.]

To you it was only once, but I remember meeting you three times. Three different outfits, three different yous.

[So, in effect, more like a pooka's actual abilities than what Souda perceives them to be. And then, in an analogy that's probably a bit too specialized to his own needs;]

But it's more like, all the same parts, and three different machines.

[He doesn't realize the way he bristles further, and perhaps if he were already a monster—something with fur, or a tail—as much would be noticeable. For now, it's simply the way tension pinches between his shoulders and keeps a smile from settling on his face, which is likely the most telling expression of his irritation.]

My memories are sort of coming back to me, slowly. Like looking at them through smudged glasses you have to keep wiping off.

[He frowns, and a sigh is exhaled through his nose.]

There was the time we were students... and then when we were Ultimate Despair... then the future, right?

[A future he doesn't know. One he can't even imagine knowing, honestly. He's not even sure about how much time passed between his death and waking up here.]

...hey, huh. Yeah, that's, that's about it. Other than the simulation, I guess.

[Maybe Komaeda really is starting to recall.]

Either way, the only thing that stayed the same was that luck of yours. You even went missing once, now that I think about it.

[Souda frowns. He didn't know what happened to Komaeda then, and even after with just the vague details, it's not like he really processed where he'd been.]

Ya came back different, like—

[He makes a frame with his hands and moves it to the side.]

Slightly to the left.

Just like on the island. One minute you're just a regular dude, the next you're— [he repeats the hand movement,] —off trynna get us killed.

That's all I know about you.

[As Souda speaks, Komaeda's hand folds over the bare stump of his left arm. From the top of the 38-8 apartments, they can see a good chunk of the city, enough that—at times like these—everything feels especially surreal.

What his classmate speaks of feels distant, like he's trying to remember someone else's memories. For as much as some of it has been coming back, most of it is still gone. Like only having a few of the middle pieces of a puzzle, and no frame of how to put them together.]

I wish I could tell you what you want to know, [he starts, bringing that hand up to scratch idly at the side of his neck before it settles back over his stump,] but I feel like I've always been like this.

[He's never seen himself as abnormal, he just knows that others have always treated him as much.]

Maybe it didn't make sense to you but for hope, you know, you have to break a few eggs to make an omelet... that's how the saying goes.

[Whether that sticks for Souda or not, Komaeda continues.]

I don't know... I don't really get it when people tell me that what I do is weird. It's all normal to me.

Well, fuckin', duh, you're just crazy,

[Souda responds, as though he's quite decided it. He chufts a snort of smoke through his nose, and then rubs it, wincing at the internal heat a little.]

You think I do anything just so people'll all me weird about it? Hell no! And Hajime called me weird all the time.

So I don't know what normal really is. I just know what it's not.

[And that, apparently, is Komaeda's everything. But, in saying that, he has admitted... he isn't really meeting the standard, either.]

...So maybe... I could be a little less hard on you about it.

[Maybe he's crazy, maybe it's just all the internalized trauma that he uses his obsessions to cope with. It's definitely a bit of both, but Komaeda isn't so acknowledging of the latter. It's easier to frame trauma as destiny that can be reaped and sowed.

Still, Souda's words earn a little laugh of his own as Komaeda leans a bit more of his weight onto his elbows.]

I don't think you're hard on me, [he admits, and he sounds so confident about it too. As if he's simply stockholm-syndromed himself into the way others treat him.]

But really, who couldn't go a little crazy when they have the kind of luck I do? You've seen what it does, I can only control it by outsmarting it.

[He pauses, and then his arms fold in the windowsill. Komaeda's chin drops to them, quieting his words.]

It's scary.

...Man, screw that.

No wonder you're fuckin' nuts. I can't handle thinkin' about that all day.

[At least now his flames have started to cool down a bit, too.]

Especially not here. Seems like everybody's luck is bad, here.

[Komaeda goes silent, because Souda has accidentally touched an exposed nerve where no one would've guessed one to be.

Everyone's luck has been made to be as bad as his... but where's the good luck? Things like reuniting with his classmates, or being alive, don't seem to be that big when compared to being turned into a monster, or having the amalgamation of your love and admiration for a guy rip out of your head.

So he does what he always does when things are a bit too much for him to handle: he laughs. The sound of it is soft, carried by the gentle breeze that passes through the window.]

Yeah, it was crazy but... I wouldn't want a different life. It's because of my amazing luck that I was able to go to Hope's Peak Academy, and that I could be classmates with so many talented people! Surrounded by so much hope... was a dream come true, for me.

[Souda just kind of stares at his former classmate for a moment, contemplating, before he prompts; ]

So is it worth it? The end of a dream, like that?

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WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, NAGITO KOMAEDA. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 004.28.777.00 * MrBrightside has joined 004.28.777.00 <MrBrightside> Hello there! This is Komaeda. <MrBrightside>** I'm grateful that you want to talk to me.