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For the most part, Operation: Get People Off My Ass has been going swimmingly! Turns out, with enough bite, you can make pretty much anybody clear out of your personal bubble. Who knew, right? Wild.
…But there's… one exception. Not really because my bite hasn't worked on him. More because I haven't bothered trying yet. Obviously I could - will, even - but the time just hasn't been right yet. I've been biding my time. That's all.
I've been planning it out, too, in excruciating detail. I just need to lead the conversation to the way that Gonta killed, so I can spell everything out to him and make things clear in no uncertain terms: that I was using him. That I thought of him as nothing as garbage. That I still do, actually! That I hate his guts and every second of every day that he thinks of me as a friend I'm using him to my advantage.
It's easy! It's so easy. It's all done but the singing, you know? The second I see his ass, it's-
Wait, the door's ringing? Now? Oh, great. Please don't tell me that's him, I need more time, I can't do it right this second, I need to-
I open the door. Sure enough, it's Gonta. The realization that follows that one is that whatever he's holding smells good.
"Well, well, well!" I chirp. "If it isn't my most loyalest of minions! What brings you over here?"
Biding my time. Biding my time. Any second now.
"Gonta and Tojo-san made cookies!" Gonta says, like that's a normal reason to bring anyone to my doorstep. "Gonta asked for some for himself, and he's here to share them with Ouma-kun!"
…Seriously? Seriously? You're going to make me choose between a plate of fresh cookies and my rightfully deserved lashing out? This is the worst day of my liiiiife.
If I asked him for a cup of milk, would I have enough time to bar the door? No, wouldn't work. I'd have to just run for it. But then I'd have to think about him just looking like a soggy fucking dog in the middle of my room. Damn it.
"...Ouma-kun does like cookies, doesn't he?" Gonta prompts.
Damn it, damn it, damn it.
" Noooope! " I chirp. "I hate 'em so much you should bring 'em in here and drop 'em on the nightstand, in fact!" I step out of the way, even, so he can get into my room! Like some kind of moron.
Gonta blinks for a second, and then smiles, and damn it all. I fucked this up big time.
"There isn't… Very much room on this nightstand…" Gonta says, once he's stepped over. "Or your room, Ouma-kun. Do you need help cleaning?"
"It's organized chaos!" I chirp, shutting the door, skipping over, and knocking everything on the nightstand off onto the floor.
Gonta places the cookies down and then bends down to start to pick up the papers, but I hiss in complaint.
"No! No. Those are my emotional support papers! I'll clean them how I please." I put my hands to my hips, huffing. "Sit already."
Gonta obliges me without an issue. Not surprising. He's the gentleman guy, after all. It's only when Gonta is on my bed already that I remember the goal was not, in fact, to get him out of my papers. I'm running out of creative expletives for this situation.
Fiiiine. I plop down and sigh. I guess I'm putting my plans for making Gonta hate me off one more interaction, unless something wild happens to give me an opportunity.
"Pass me a cookie," I say, reaching a hand out. Gonta doesn't waste any time, and my mouth waters a little once it gets in my hand. It's still warm. Oh, this is so worth not self-isolating completely for another day. Oh man oh man oh man.
And it tastes perfect. Of course it does. I'm not surprised, with Tojo and Gonta at the helm. The one in my hand gets eaten in no time, and I'm already putting fingers in my mouth to get the chocolate off them. Gonta raises his eyebrows, but doesn't say anything. He's the gentleman here. I have nooo obligation whatsoever.
"Did Ouma-kun enjoy it?" Gonta asks.
I think about zagging on him, but that sounds like a pain, especially when I'm already committing all my evil to the next interaction, so I just nod my head. "Yep! Tastes just like my dear old mom's cookies that she made! Before I killed her, of course."
Gonta frowns, but doesn't protest something about not killing moms. He's gotten better at spotting the obvious bait since he left the sim. I'm happy for him, but I'm losing so much in the way of evil points like this. What a cruel environment for me.
…Like it matters, anyway.
"Gonta is glad to hear it. He thought Ouma-kun would, but he was afraid he would say no."
Eh?
"Why would I do that?" I huff. "Name a baked good I wouldn't put my grubby mitts all over. I'll wait."
Gonta's brows furrow. "That isn't why Gonta thought Ouma-kun would say no. Gonta thought…" he sighs, rubbing the side of his head. I'll wait, but this must be a toughie if it's giving him trouble even now. "Gonta thought that, since Ouma-kun is trying to keep away from everyone, he might not want to eat anything Gonta offered."
…He knows that much? Seriously? I underestimated him.
"Huuuh? Nope, nope!" I grin. "I'll take any excuse to con someone out of sweets, you know! The only reason I'm avoiding people is because I hate them all and they're all beneath me." I hold my hand out. "Pass me another cookie?"
Gonta does as I ask, but he's frowning again as he does. "Gonta doesn't think that is true," he says. "Gonta thinks that Ouma-kun is like a wounded animal in a new environment. Everything can be threatening, so he bares his teeth at everything."
The cookie breaks in my hand. Something snaps. Too close. That's too close. And personally, I'm not really that fond of the comparison, must say!
A wounded animal is less threatening. My teeth are plenty sharp for the task at hand.
"Oh, is that what you think?" I ask.
I hear my voice quivering with the energy I have yet to deliver, and I think Gonta senses it too, eyes widening. Good.
I smirk. "That's pretty funny, honestly! Not a bad attempt at a deduction from a guy who's too stupid to think about things in any way other than comparisons to his dumb, fake forest."
Gonta exhales sharply, but doesn't react any other way. Not good enough. "Ouma-kun-"
"And another thing!" I'm not giving him the room. Absolutely not. My free hand lunges to the bed. "It's wild to hear that coming from the guy who walked out of the simulation a murderer! You even got the Monokuma branded seal of approval! Maybe the person they should all be afraid of is you! "
Gonta's jaw sets. I'm getting to him. I can tell. "Ouma-kun."
Just a little more. Just a little bit more.
"And isn't it just the funniest damn thing that you didn't even remember it? I bet you still don't!" My voice pitches feverishly, and I don't bother to contain it. "Even among killers, you're the punchline of the joke! Just add that to the list of things you're a huge- "
"Stop talking."
Before I know what's happening, Gonta has his arms wrapped around me, and he's pulled me close. I think it's some kind of trap for a second, but then he has the fucking audacity to start rubbing my back. How dare he. How fucking dare he, like I'm some kind of stupid child-
"If Ouma-kun wasn't hurting, he wouldn't be so desperate to push Gonta away," he says, and damn him, he's right, "but that doesn't make him right to be saying the things he does."
I don't know where to put my hands. Like hell are they going around Gonta, though.
"Of course it doesn't? That's the point? " I scoff. "I hurt people because I can, Gonta. Isn't that obvious by now? Just look at yourself."
"Gonta is fine," he says, "though he would appreciate an apology."
I scoff. "Think you've got the wrong guy. I don't do apologies. Especially not when I meant every word."
Gonta doesn't respond for a second, and I think about pressing further, to get him to leave or something, until finally he does speak.
"And how would Ouma-kun feel if something happened to Gonta tomorrow? If he died then?"
"What?" The question rolls out of me, half-formed, before I can even think.
What a complete swerve. What a pointless, useless question. What would be the point in being upset about something like that? I'm not even thinking about it. And even if I was, I wouldn't give a damn. I don't care about Gonta, I don't care what happens to him, and if he died tomorrow, I would cheer. I'm nothing, nothing, nothing, but cruel, spiteful, and hateful, and the closer you get, the worse it is. Gonta deserves this. He does, he does, he does, he… he does, he does.
"Well, I think I'd-" my shoulders shake, treacherous bastards.
He deserves this.
"I think I'd cheer, you know!" I let out a sound like a hiccup. My fist, the empty one, clenches hard.
He deserves this. He needs this.
"I'd cheer, and I'd, I'd clap, and,"
I need this.
"Ouma-kun."
Gonta's voice is too gentle, and it chills me, inside and out.
"It's okay to be upset."
I'm not upset. I'm doing what I was made to do. What I'm good at doing. What I do easier than breathing. So, why, why am I failing? Why am I crying into Gonta's stupid, dumb shirt?
Gonta hums softly, rubbing my back, and I hate it. Why, oh why, am I the one being comforted after I did everything in my power to hurt him? It's not fair. It's not right. It's not what's supposed to happen.
I did… the best I could. I really did try. But it's pointless if he can see through it all. If Gonta refuses to leave my stupid ass alone, even at my worst, then…
…Maybe he deserves my best. Or at least a shot at it. Anything but this.