adsum | npc contact.1

Dogs always like playing with new toys, so I can see why you're excited.

( did he do what you think he just did? and if he did? leave him alone! he was acknowledging how thrilled the other gets, and considering his profession to sports — it makes sense. komaeda, however, isn't too good at them, so he'd rather leave that spotlight to him. )

Is it because of the body in the case?

( he stares down at him as he indulges in his pretzel, and it looks like a perfectly good one actually. well, that's pretty lucky if he says so himself. ) They might have wanted to play too, you should have put a bid in to see.

[ He doesn't want to play with a doll? That's like Chucky vibes and that's not a movie he wants to reenact. ]

Hm... I wouldn't have had enough points. I keep having to treat my kouhai.

[ Butter them up or whatever, it felt like a better use of his points than spending it at the auction. ]

( what's wrong with chucky? he was kind of funny, and he got like seven movies... doesn't rokkun want to be in his own series? )

Oh, your kouhai... I forgot you had people like that. ( it slips his mind some days that there are other people in his pile of talentless that adore him, so he shouldn't be surprised. ) You should keep watching after them... the things you do will affect them greatly.

( he doesn't speak from experience, in his school days, he really didn't have someone like that. )

She's walking around now.

( the body, because komaeda feels it's fair towards hope if both parties are aware. )

[ No, he wants to graduate and design haunted mansions, he doesn't have time for a series. ]

Is she?

[ There's some surprise in his voice, but more because that girl shouldn't be walking around already. It's no good making that nurse's office cot her deathbed, though; nobody gets merit points for that sort of pointless death. ]

I wonder... Well. I'll leave her alone, for now.

( "for now," means a lot, and komaeda glances down at the other before crouching right beside him so he can stare. )

What does she have to do in order for you to deal with her?

( don't feed into komaeda's insanity is the first one, especially when all he sees is hope in every person, and whose happen to be stronger than who. he hasn't had time to make conversation with her, but that's because she tends to stay around ouma-kun than anyone else. he reaches out, resting a hand over his black cloth wristband.... he fiddles with it, but not to check for anything, but just to kill time while the other is eating. )

Get in my way.

[ He's not a monster, come on. But he does place a hand on Komaeda's and moves it away from his wristband in an unvoiced request not to do that. ]

( he moves it away once, and komaeda continues to pester the wristbands again — he's not doing anything bad, but he remembers. i know, he's probably wishing the dementia ate that way. sadly, it didn't. )

She must be capable of doing that. ( but then, komaeda laughs. ) Or are they able to get in your way, the transfers?

( the girl is with them now, so this could run one of two ways. )

[ Komaeda's selective dementia... ]

That depends on how muck they can see. Notice, realize, whatever.

[ The next time Komaeda fiddles with the wristband, Rokkun's moving his hand away to grab Komaeda's wrist instead. Licks one of Komaeda's fingers. Stop that. ]

Aren't you afraid, they're going to learn...

( okay, rokkun may take his wrist??? but when his tongue touches komaeda's fingers, he's going to press the tips against the muscle. he applies little pressure with his nails, but not enough to cause pain yet. )

Or are you afraid of what I want to learn?

( that being what's beneath the wristband, and the fact that while rokkun seems so carefree, he continues to hide that. )

[ Hm. Maybe he wants his hand back now. ]

Didn't I tell you before? I want you to open your eyes.

[ That bullshit again ]

But you're partly right. There are certain things I can't let you know yet. Not out of fear, but... necessity. Convenience. [ same thing ]

Yes, you and every other student that isn't the transfers.

( he's not being sassy, sort of, but he's going to wipe that saliva on rokkun's cheek. )

If you want me to do that, then show me what you're hiding.

( will being direct get him anywhere? no, but if there's no direction, if there's only words like that which could allude to so many things... they'll only get lost. is he expecting rokkun to throw him a bone? not really, besides, komaeda's concerns happen to be what's under the wristband. ) You have them just like me, but I want to count every single one...

( a pause, and he recalls the previous time when this happened. ) Don't run from me. ( that coming from komaeda who pushes everyone away? he must not be listening to himself. )

[ Ew. The saliva is going to have to dry there, he doesn't wipe it off. ]

...You can't.

[ But he doesn't stop him, holding his hand still, not pulling it back. It's not running away. It's walking forward, at his own pace, forcing those who want to know to chase after him, selfish to that end.

He won't explain anything, is what the look on his face seems to say. But he won't stop Komaeda from pulling off his wristband. ]

( it's selfish, and to have someone like komaeda do this probably is more so when he doesn't want much to do with people in a close way — he'd keep them at arm's length. though, the difference between right now and other times, their hope starts with these marks, and their willingness to know the unknown. it's why for their hope, for rokkun's hope, and the hopes of others is why he's willing to pinch at the wristband for a moment. )

Doing this is how we're able to achieve absolute hope... How else will we all be together at the end?

( after that, he begins to pull at the wristbands................................................................. )

We won't be.

[ The wristband slides off his hand, dangling from his fingers, and uncovered on his wrist... are innumerable marks cut into the skin, some in neat little tally rows but others more haphazard, overlapping, different lengths and angles and stages of healing— some scarred over, some freshly bleeding with fibers from the wristband still clinging to the wet edges of the cuts from having it pulled away from his skin all at once, the streak of blood making it even harder to count.

Is this hope? ]

That's how it should be.

( he could start to count, and he probably gets to a double digit, but maybe that's the way his eyes glaze over, and can't tell the difference from one to another. there's too many to choose from, to wonder what the final number may be if he took out his time to count then one by one. komaeda's reaction is normal, he gasps, and it's hard to tell if it's because of the marks or the fact the other revealed them. there's some that are fresher, and rather than sympathizing because komaeda's literally unable to do that —

he lightly brushes a finger across the layer of blood that obscures the count, leaving behind a line that separates the liquid until it forms back together. )

I'm jealous, you have so many...

( he's not really jealous, but he can't keep his hands off, trying to feel what sort of texture comes from touching a raw and sensitive area like that. )

Do they bring you hope... every... ( he drags ) ...single... ( his index finger ) ...one... ( across the area. )

[ They sting, naturally, and he can see Rokkun's fingers twitch and curl with each pass over the cuts on his wrist. But he doesn't pull his hand away, letting Komaeda poke and prod and feed his curiosity until it's sated and he can cover this up and never speak of it again. ]

You could have this many too.

[ He clenches his left hand into a fist, causing more blood to seep out from the wounds. ]

I remember each and every one.

[ Is this hope? ]

I could?

( is this hope?

it must hurt, he noticed how the other flinched, and how he inflicts pain on himself. in return, all komaeda does is touch and play with them, familiarizing himself with the ones that cross over. fresh ones, old ones, so many mixed all in a pile, and who knows where they could even start so komaeda's curious of what he'd say. how he'd answer. )

Tell me about your favorite one, and we can match.

Edited 2021-05-24 07:44 (UTC)

[ Why would he have a favorite. He does, though ]

My favorite... would probably be this one.

[ He points at one of the marks which could reasonably be one of any 2348905943 marks ]

It was my very first one— I guess you could call it the "gateway"... I've gone over it too many times, though, so that's not even the original scar.

Is that so... ( lore, lore, loooore, or maybe cute rokkun naming, either way, komaeda's going to trade his finger over whichever the other is indicating. he's probably touching the wrong one, but... )

...And when I thought I was your favorite.

( he withdraws his hands, wiping the blood on his pants leg to clean it off, before touching again. he just didn't want to get it infected. ) Did we at least get our "gateway" together? ( almost said gayway, help. )

[ Komaeda is his favorite scar, yeah

Also his pants are probably filthy? that's not helping ]

No, I hadn't known you back then. If I did, maybe you would've been part of my favorite.

( he hums, looking off to the side as he thinks about it. )

How sweet, ahah... I really don't deserve such kindness.

( so he wasn't there for whenever his first one started, so he wonders about the others. )

What about the others, if I couldn't be there for your first?

( his voice drops softly as he stares at the other curiously, wondering if he'll even say. if there is one, actually... )

The others involved? No, they're no longer here.

[ His first time was very thorough, thanks. ]

No, no... Did I accompany you with any of the ( 8273648373747 ) others? So that one of our marks we obtained together.

( if they're partners in crime and knew each other when they were little, he can't help but ask. you never know, maybe they was acting up together! which komaeda stares at his own right arm, despite covered by the sleeve, and touches there softly. he leans against rokkun, shoulder to shoulder as if he's about to show his own arm, but not really, he's just musing. )

Since I wasn't there for your "gateway," and that one was pretty special to you.

[ Eyes flit over to glance at Komaeda's wrist, but he does not ask— does not need to— and instead leans his own weight against Komaeda's shoulder, which isn't as comfortable as it sounds. ]

You were there for this one, and that one... the one here too... [ he points out the scars with light strokes of his finger against his skin, bringing the tip back bright red and wet. ] ...physically, at least.

[ Mentally? emotionally? how can he say, when Komaeda doesn't even remember? ]

( he is big as hell, komaeda is a twig, why does rokkun hate sick people? you're right, it isn't comfortable at all, so if komaeda is slowly leaning the opposite direction... don't worry about it. )

... ( physically? you know, that means so many things. )

Ah! I get it, those must have been the fabled... partners in crime days you talk about.

( the word registers in his head, and he contemplates it for a moment. ) What about you? If I was there "physically," were you all there?

( yeah, you! he's asking since someone is trying to call him out... )

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