adsum | npc contact.1

Yeah, it is.

[ Before the stench of rot drove people away and ???Gawain guarding the stairs all of April, but it used to be, in the past, when there is little other place in the school that offers both privacy and a view. ]

Not a lot of people come up here just to hang out, though, I guess 'cause people would talk if they're spotted going up. The implications, you know.

[ The privacy is great. People turn a blind eye and sometimes two people go up and only one person comes down and nobody looks. ]

( the view is nice. she knows, because she stared holes into that wisteria tree last time she was here, talking to jekyll. even now, her gaze wanders to it, but she doesn't bother going towards the window; instead, she leans against the wall and plays it casual. )

Hmmm ~ Has Senpai ever been up here with anyone else? Alone?

( to kill them? actually she's asking about any Other Possible Girls but well... knowing rokkun... )

[ He notices the glance, of course he does when she's not looking at him, and he goes ahead and stands in that side of the room so Rika can have both. ]

I have, but not for anything like that. [ glances at her, glances away, ] Not yet, anyways.

( ah... does he have to be like this? the subject she wants to bring up is already difficult enough to weave into conversation as is; if he keeps being so casually thoughtful, she'll literally let him get away with it just because he's cute?

before she knows it, she's already moving to his side. why is it so hard to stay out of his space, when they're together? )

What do you think I wanna tell you, then? ( she smiles, coy and suggestive, placing both forearms on the windowsill.

ah... she wants to go outside. maybe that's why she's so drawn to this window. ) You have one guess, and then it's punishment time!

"Then"?

[ She has no faith in him!!! But he laughs, mirroring her smile and tilting his head a little like he has to think about it. ]

Something you want to tell me in secret... [ he leans in towards her ] Away from prying eyes... [ what could it be ]

It's a love confession.

[ If she's so sure he's going to get it wrong, then he has zero worries about saying this, whew, it can absolutely not be anything about receiving and returning affection, they went through this already. ]

( ...

......

he really has no shame, does he? look, neither does rika, technically — when it comes to making crude jokes, or saying things that'll make people gasp in disbelief. anything to get attention, you know. when it comes to the actual, serious stuff, well... it's harder to find the proper words.

it's harder to find the necessary courage, or drop her usual flippancy. )

Actually... ( so she pushes herself off the windowsill and gets closer to him, instead, pushing her knee between his to trap him under the wall. ) It's something even more intimate than that. Something only Senpai and me can share.

( thin fingers wrap around his wrists; pull them up to his sides, tightening around the wristband. she holds them there, ambiguous, gaze never leaving his face; her thumb sneaks beneath the wristband, then, running over the fresh cuts. to tell the truth... even though she knows a way the tally marks appear, she... isn't sure that's what this is about. are they tally marks, or cuts made by rokuro himself? it's normal to jump to this kind of conclusion, right? it's normal to worry... right? )

... are you like me, Senpai?

[ He flinches, for any number of reasons, when he's pinned— when she rubs a thumb over his cuts and pulls them back wet- when suspicion and implication and reason battle it out and nobody wins.

He lets his wrists hang loose, doesn't look at them, doesn't look at Rika's wrists either even if he's tempted to. Something that they share. Does she know? How could she know? When did she see? ]

...no.

[ In the end, his reply is soft, but resolute. ]

I don't know your reason, but I know our reasons aren't the same.

( she almost wishes he just lied to her — because while she couldn't ignore the marks themselves, she could've at least lived in blissful ignorance, convinced her senpai's just going through something heavy, just like she did.

she lets go; stumbles back, a few steps, trying to collect her thoughts. she... she did consider this — briefly, like an unwanted thought you throw away immediately after conjuring it — but faced with the actual, gruesome truth of it... well, it's definitely not the same. she knows this school is anything but normal; maybe it was dumb of her to expect innocence where there's none to be found. )

... then, these... ( she looks at her hand, thumb stained in blood.

she should've figured this was it when komaeda was so strangely vague about all of this; when he asked her if she thinks rokuro's being selfless or selfish. ) ... why?

( at the very least, she wants to hear it from his mouth — the reason. )

[ With a sigh, he pulls his wristband back on, brings the tips of his fingers back bloody but wipes them off on the side of his pants where they disappear into the darkness. ]

"Why"?

[ He leans back against the window. It's bright outside, the contrast would make it difficult to see his face and he's glad for it. ]

It's to hide my true nature.

[ An insufficient answer. Maybe she already knows that too? But he is not somebody who answers questions just because he's asked, not without a trade, not without taking a step towards Rika, slow, cautious. ]

A secret for a secret. If I tell you my reason, will you tell me yours?

( there's two sides to this conflict, inside of her head: realistically, she knows he must've done... some awful stuff, to get his wrist so messed up. but... she's also never seen that part of him — and she recalls, now, that he said he didn't want to hurt her. up until now... was all the warmth he'd showed her a lie? a part of the act? or was it just another side of him, the boy who she saw in the mirror shards, hands clean of blood?

she wants to understand him. it's stupid, and she knows her heart aches for him because she's an idiot who feels too much, too quick, but — )

... ( she won't cry in front of him. instead, she puts on her best i-bottle-everything-up-until-it-spills-over-and-i-wanna-die face and shoves her hands into her pockets, trying to appear cool and casual.

yeah. )

Mine's really boring though, you know? Just dumb teenage drama stuff, nothing you can't watch on tv. ( but if he still wants to trade... that's a yes. )

I'm not asking for entertainment. I'm asking because I want to know.

[ Because he takes and he takes and he can't give unless he takes. And what he takes is another step towards her, what he reaches for is her hands. ]

I want to know about you.

( dumb. she's so dumb. she's the dumbest girl alive, probably, when she allows him to take her hands out of her pockets and doesn't even flinch back, despite everything.

so stupid. )

I... ( back in the day, she would've had trouble telling this story. but it's not her first time telling it, now, and she's long since accepted that being weak isn't something you necessarily have to be ashamed of. it's just a part of you. it's human. ) A little while back, I used to be an idol. You probably never heard of us, but I mean... you can totally guess I was one, right? 'cause I'm so cute.

( yes, derailing it this way makes her feel better, let her do this. she tells him about chiemi; about her loyal fan, who she believed to be a rich patron — about the theft she saw her commit, and how she subsequently tried to bully out of it. she tells him of seeing her sunken, thin face at the funeral; of the hurt that followed, and of the release she found in cutting into her own flesh. of the comfort she found in pain, and of her stupid, desperate want to be saved. she tells him all of this because she's come to terms with it: it's not a part of her she can erase, but it's a part of her she can instead shove on display and work on.

it's a part she can bare to him, in hopes of receiving the same, fingers squeezing around his hands, pulling him in. )

[ He can see her as an idol, somebody cute, bright, cheerful, radiant in the way you can't help but look at her— in the way he hates being looked at, every move scrutinized and picked apart. She wasn't lying when she said it was dumb teenage drama stuff. It was dumb, stupidity you could blame on the immaturity of being a teenager, if stupidity were any excuse for somebody's death.

She didn't mean it. She regretted it, hurt from it. This is why their reasons aren't the same.

Stepping in towards her he squeezes her hands back, doesn't want to let go of them to give her a hug and instead he does what she did for him, he leans in, closes his eyes, and presses his forehead against her own. ]

( a girl who needs attention to live and a boy who hates being looked at...

recalling it hurts — it always does, even though you'd think she'd grow used to it by now. she doesn't, and she doubts she ever will; it's the kind of guilt you carry with you your whole life, unless, well... you aren't capable of feeling it in the first place. unfortunately for rika, she never lacked emotion — no matter what kind of a stern face she puts on to show the world, inside, there's always a storm. )

Senpai... ( he's so close; it's familiar and comforting and she doesn't understand why that doesn't change, but it doesn't — she tips her head up, to let their foreheads press together, heart skipping a pathetic beat. ) It's your turn.

[ He hums a little under his breath, pulling away from Rika before opening his eyes to look at her. ]

It's not much of a story...

[ It's not a story. The full context isn't something he feels is necessary to give, just... looking down at their hands, at Rika's bare wrist and his covered one, because what he's doing is hiding. Even this is hiding. ]

Like you, some of these I did myself, to mask my sins. It's hard to tell, isn't it? No neat little lines... When things become messy like this, most people don't look closer, like you do. They look away, and find relief in that.

( she wants to know more — about him, about this place, about what he's doing, and why. she wants to understand him, most of all — because she hates not being able to offer him any comfort or help or... whatever else he needs. maybe he doesn't need anything. maybe he doesn't feel anything.

it's fine; she'll feel strongly enough for both of them, as she always does. and it's not like she'd offer him anything upfront: he'd have to take it, but... isn't he good at that? )

Rocchi... ( it's hard to find comfort in knowing he'd done terrible things; things that warranted hiding. in the other hand, she also... feels a little at ease, knowing he's experienced something she did — something she always thought she was alone with. he did it to hide something, whereas she did it to release something; it's different, but... ) I'll never look away, 'kay? 'cause I'm not a coward.

( she huffs, determined. )

But I know there's more to this, too. I... I think I saw you, in the mirror, when you were a little younger. Um... practicing soccer, and... sketching out plans? And the stone... were you looking for it in a river yourself?

[ Rika refusing to look away is something he both loves and hates about her. It's the fear and need to be alone when the path he'd chosen to walk only has enough space for one, a tightrope over a chasm and every time Rika reaches for his hands it feels like if he turns around he'll fall.

Looking back makes it harder. If he only looks forward, doesn't let anything distract him, place one foot in front of the other and only focus on that, he'll make it to the end. Instead, he's turning around, heart pounding when Rika brings up seeing him outside the school, the stone in the river, and he feels a little like falling. ]

You saw that? [ What did you used to be like, Komaeda asked him once. He didn't know. ] Did I look happy?

( times like these, when his expression softens and falters, she feels as if he'll slip right through her fingers. subconsciously, she laces their fingers together, making sure to hold onto him, too; it's a small comfort, but one regardless.

... did he look happy? she thinks so. he looked... peaceful. like a kid with his whole life ahead of him, and great plans to still realize.

she doesn't remember herself ever looking like that. )

Yeah. ( she smiles, finally, bouncing up on her feet. ) Senpai looked suuuuuper cute ~! Now he's all tall and grown!!

I see.

[ He looks somewhat contemplative as he squeezes her hand back, like he's trying to envision what it must be like to be a child, and happy.

... ]

That's good. But are you saying I'm not super cute anymore?

( having dreams is a kid's privilege, right? still... she wonders what the floor plan was about... and the extent of his sins. he'd avoided the subject pretty skillfully, and she's just distracted enough not to press for it, but...

well, whatever. selfishly, she just wants to savor having him close. )

Are you stupid, Senpai? Obviously I wouldn't let you anywhere near me if you weren't up to the highest cuteness standards. ( cause... you know... she's so cute. )

You hang out with Nagito.

[ Do you think he's cute too, Rika, look at him and tell him ]

( bro you stepped on a landmine )

Okay, first of all — I don't hang out with him!! He comes by sometimes, alright?! It's not something under my control! And second of all, before you assume something stupid, I don't think he's cute! He looks like an old avocado had a child with an alien! Well... I guess he's passable when I do his hair, and some things could be fixed up with a bit of make-up, but other than that —

( she'll keep going for as long as you don't stop her )

[ He doesn't stop her— doesn't mean to, but he can't help but burst out laughing at her impassionate likening Komaeda to an avocado, having to pull away and turn his head so Rika doesn't see the tears of mirth in his eyes, the way his shoulders hunch and he doubles over some, trying to hold his breath and get himself to Stop. ]

Senpaaai! It's not funny!!

( she reaches to shake him a little, because WHY IS HE LAUGHING INSTEAD OF AGREEING WITH HER AND ALSO CORRECTING HIS TERRIBLE MISTAKE BUT —

she sees a glimpse of his face, with the tears included, and huffs, letting go suddenly. c.............. c......................... cute........................... )

[ He opens his mouth to apologize, but 1) he's not sorry, and 2) he can't breathe to apologize, not without dissolving into laugher again. Give him a moment for this to pass, it's like when you laugh so hard you can't breathe and your lungs eventually empty out to the point of discomfort and you feel like dying and then things are funny anymore and so you can finally calm down.

Whew.

Okay.

Thank you for letting go so he has free hands to wipe the tears from his face. ]

That took me by surprise... You have strong feelings about him. That makes me a little jealous.

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cw: self harm mention

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this is all i wrote before dinner then 2hrs later i come back and forget what i wanted to say so

KAJDKA VALID

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