[ Mondo can't hold back the gasp that escapes him. What did this guy just say? The pool? His other self?
It's real? ]
...What?
[ No, hold on, he's... he can't. What the hell? Why's this voice so familiar? It sounds just like... just like... ]
You're... the blonde asshole from earlier?
[ Probably of the least importance this moment, but he has to ask ー he can't quite grasp this just yet. What the fuck was that if that wasn't just a dream? They went into his memories for real? So the monsters they fought... and the memories of Tsumiki he saw... they were all real? How did he get back here, then? Is that even possible in the first place?
He begins rubbing his palm against his face, as if that'll help waking himself up. ]
Yeah, me. That guy who saved your ass in Kamoshida's Palace, and saw not just one but two deaths in your head. Hey.
[The sarcasm is thicker in his voice than the residue of sleep by now. Did he think Ryuji would just shrug it off and not follow up? He's too caught up in the memory of blood to realize they're riding very different wavelengths.]
[ Kamoshida's Palace...? Is he talking about the time they ran away from a grotesquely enormous monster from hell? Mondo pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes in hopes it'll help his mind to ease out a little ー but of course the fucker's gotta mention about the deaths. Feels good man. ]
The fuck's goin' on here? What was that?!
[ How the hell did this asshole get his number anyway?! ]
[Don't say the word. You know it's bad when sentient creatures styled out of male anatomy aren't the most blood-curdling sight you behold in a tour of the subconscious mind's greatest hits.]
I asked first.
[Like a dog with a bone, Ryuji's chewing on those last few glimpses before everything had gone black--the dumbbell glistening with something wet under the harsh artificial lights, the guilty bow of Mondo's head. He gnaws on the spiked, almost panicked rage, the girl attesting to look up to the strong Oowada Mondo.
She'd put her trust in him, and been repaid with violence. If eyes are windows to the soul, then manifestations of the mind the likes of which they'd just experienced are windows to the heart. Real or not, the fact that it'd featured in Mondo's mind says something about the person that mind belongs to.]
[ Frustrated growls leave his throat as his hand scratches the side of his head roughly. Goddammit. ]
Yeah, that fucking happened. Happy? Now tell me what the fuck that whole thing was. You know somethin'... don't you?
[ Look, he knows full well he deserves to feel like the worst human being in the world. He definitely wants to do shit to atone for his past sins, but that's got nothin' to do with this asshole. He didn't need to answer that question ー but now that he did, he expects to get one in return. ]
[That's it, then. With the confirmation, the cold, hard knot of truth in his gut pulls tighter, chilling the rest of him like a wave of ice slowly encasing his limbs. If he hadn't followed Mondo at just the right time, he might never have known. He'd still be thinking the only blood on his hands was from holding his brother's body in the street.]
I know what I saw, you shitbag. Ain't that enough?
[And because he saw, it just became Ryuji's business, contrary to whatever Mondo might wish. Killers don't get the luxury of personal space--in their guilty consciences or in prison.
Which is where he's starting to think Mondo might belong, not here in Wonderland.]
So that was a memory. Who was that girl? What'd you do to her!? Answer me, and don't even think about lying. I saw everythin'--that was you holdin' the dumbbell.
That was why you didn't wanna go in there. You knew what was goin' happen, didn't you?
[ Mondo's blood begins to boil. This asshat knows jack shit and yet keeps yapping like he's some fucking saint, just like their first encounter. He knew it, he should've trusted his gut feeling.
Sure, he can't deny he's done something horrible he can never take back. But again, it's none of this shithead's fucking business. He's got no rights to judge when he barely knows anything.
Despite the anger, Mondo has no more energy to bark back. Instead, he spits out poison with vicious low snarl. ]
I answered your goddamn question... Answer mine. Where the fuck were we, if that ain't a dream?
[ His grip tightens on the palm pilot. ]
If you're not gonna give me one, I've got no business with ya.
[Avoiding and backpedaling, spoken like a true criminal who refuses to look their crime in the eye.
People's Shadows are more honest for a reason. Cognitive Mondo's dazed regret had seemed sincere in the moment, but there's little trace of it in Mondo's voice now. In the proverbial light of day, people have a thousand false fronts to choose from.]
You tell me. We were in your head. Haven't you figured it out yet? Everythin' after we climbed out of the sewer was a part of you. Your thoughts. Your memories.
[ Wonderland, where everything is possible. Wonderland, where apparently taking a trip into someone else's mind is such a normal thing that he's expected to know that right off bat. Mondo scoffs. ]
Why're you askin' me all these questions you know the answer to?
[ No one told him that this kind of shittery is possible here, but he won't blame them for not letting him know that ー no one wants their past to be seen like that either. Giving out such information might not bode well for them in the first place. ]
[That Ryuji knows the answers to...? Ha, hilarious. Ryuji doesn't know a damn thing, that's the entirety of the problem here. He's reeling. Part of his flare up of anger--and shaken surprise that resembles anger in the way it scalds--is rooted in how badly Mondo's mindscape had caught him off guard.
I should have done something. I should have stopped it. I should have done something. Around and around and around turns an illogical wheel of regret that he can't seem to stop.]
What kinda crap is that?
[If he's going to answer questions with questions, he could at least make them good ones.]
You've rubbed me wrong since day effin' one, but even so, I wasn't expectin' that. That...
[He's at a loss for the right words to encompass the grisly scene they'd left behind. Stupidly, he feels betrayed. He's entered the mental landscapes of other people plenty of times, but almost always knowing what they were capable of beforehand, the crimes they'd committed. Steeled to see it reflected in their Palaces.
--Almost always.
He'd been caught off guard the first time with Kamoshida, unprepared to find out just how bad it was. It'd been a rude awakening, just as it is now. He can't help but feel a personal edge of indignation toward Mondo for unknowingly blindsiding him again, finding a crack in the thick skin he'd worn to face down dozens of murderers back in the Metaverse.
This is different. It feels more personal. He'd been a part of it; now he's too close. He can't detach. He can't... get that girl's face out of his head. Anger is a comforting and familiar blanket to pull over him in the waking world the same way he puts on his Skull mask in the cognitive one.]
Why? [It has the despairing disorientation of a child finding out the world is inherently unfair. Why do bad things have to happen?] Why'd you do it?
[ Mondo knows that he deserves all the judgments, more than anyone else. Even this one, even if it comes from a dude he wants to pummel so badly. The fucker's got some rights to feel that way. And it's strangely refreshing anyway, to be treated like a criminal. Like what he actually is, ironic as it sounds. 'I didn't mean to do it' means nothing when the damage has been done and could never be taken back anymore. Fujisaki wouldn't come back to life. The guy whose foot you stepped on when the train hit sudden brake wouldn't have his pain relieved just because you apologise. ]
[He's practically shouting now, and he doesn't care. The guy doesn't just get to avoid the subject now that it's been dragged into the light. And he's got another thing coming if he thinks Ryuji's going to sit back and let him do it.]
You might not care, but I do! I just saw two people die. I'm involved now! And you--you owe her.
[Maybe not Ryuji, maybe not the brother on the matching motorcycle, but the kid Mondo assaulted is squarely on his shoulders.]
So? It still doesn't give me a reason to tell ya anythin'.
[ 'You owe her'. Hah. Like Mondo doesn't know how much he owed Fujisaki already. He takes a deep breath, trying to settle his nerves. This tug of war is such a fucking waste of time. He's done. ]
If you've got nothin' better to say I'm hangin' up.
[He would say he's never met someone this selfish before, but he has. He just doesn't usually end up confronting them in reality.]
Are you really that much of a cold-blooded coward you're gonna brush it off? Try and act like it didn't happen? It wasn't a dream! All of that's in your head. You can't hide from what we both saw.
[Mondo's on hands and knees crawling beneath that low bar, but somehow he still manages to squeeze underneath it.]
...Coward? [ He mutters that, mostly to himself, but audible enough to be picked up. ] When did I act like that? When did I fuckin' hide? I've said it earlier ー that happened. What else do you want, aah? Reasons? So you can rationalise why I did shit?!
[ A forced, cracking laughter booms on the device speaker. ]
News for ya: I don't give a crap what you think about me. I don't fuckin' care if you hate me, or treat me like some goddamn criminal. 'Cuz guess what? That's a fact! What, are you gonna say you were trying to believe me, or some shit like that? [ This time, a more natural-sounding chuckle leaves him. ] Too bad. [ There was no trace of amusement in it, though. ] It's rainin' on your parade, shithead. Well, at least you can have your throne of shit-eatin' saint all to yourself. Enjoy it.
[ And with that, Mondo hangs up, throwing the device to another side of his bed.
...That was... Much.
The fact that a lifeー no, two lives were gone under his hands never stopped haunting him. Ever since he's gotten his 'second chance' here in Wonderland, he's got plenty of times to think about it, to mull over it, to involuntarily have the scene replaying in his head over and over. He'd expect himself not to feel so strongly about the exposure of the 'same old thing' for the umpteenth time, and yet... He sighs loudly, covering his face with his broad palms. Once again, it makes him wonder, why him? Why Mondo, out of all people, who gets the chance to live again? Why not Aniki? Why not Fujisaki? The charismatic leader and the prodigy programmer ー they both deserved their lives much, much more than him. They had promising future and potentials ahead. They were strong, stronger than a lot of people. Stronger... than him. ]
Khー Fuck.
[ Conversation with that punk gave him so much bitter aftertaste, god. He totally needed all the reminders. If only he could spit them out, vomit those poisonous substances that squashed him tight inside, maybe it'd feel better. Alas, there's no way to boot out the intangible. ]
Goddammit!
[ Ugh, fuck sleeping. Who the hell can sleep after that anyway?!
In a matter of minute, he gets off his bed, out of his room, and down the stairs. He keeps going and going. It doesn't matter where, he needs to get away, get out of there, somewhere. ]
[Cowards come in all shapes and sizes. Some refuse to look at themselves clearly, viewing themselves through a warped mirror that casts blame on the world and themselves in a favorable light. Some hunch in a delicate web of denial like a grotesque spider, devouring anyone who'd dare break the strands with a much-needed reality check.
Some act like confessing after they're caught is the same as owning up, and shrug their shoulders as if to say "what's done is done, no point crying over spilled blood."
They're all shades of the same chicken shit in Ryuji's eyes.
The Phantom Thieves of Hearts had been born from wanting to break from the society that condoned such weak-willed, distorted lines of thinking; Mondo gets a phantom thief's corresponding condemnation. Does Ryuji want excuses? No. Is he the person who needs convincing? No. That Mondo has made a murderer of himself beyond justification is something they can both agree on.]
She's the one who believed in you, Oowada.
[It's what Fujisaki, and Mondo himself, are (were) holding onto in their hearts that matter, not Ryuji. But he doesn't get a chance to say that before he's greeted with the dial tone at the end of the defensive rant.
He growls into the receiver. So that's how it's going to be, huh? Still hiding.
Well, it's a small world. Mondo can run, but the one thing he can't do is hide forever.]
Edited (now with sentences that make actual sense) 2017-10-09 21:38 (UTC)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
It's real? ]
...What?
[ No, hold on, he's... he can't. What the hell? Why's this voice so familiar? It sounds just like... just like... ]
You're... the blonde asshole from earlier?
[ Probably of the least importance this moment, but he has to ask ー he can't quite grasp this just yet. What the fuck was that if that wasn't just a dream? They went into his memories for real? So the monsters they fought... and the memories of Tsumiki he saw... they were all real? How did he get back here, then? Is that even possible in the first place?
He begins rubbing his palm against his face, as if that'll help waking himself up. ]
no subject
[The sarcasm is thicker in his voice than the residue of sleep by now. Did he think Ryuji would just shrug it off and not follow up? He's too caught up in the memory of blood to realize they're riding very different wavelengths.]
no subject
The fuck's goin' on here? What was that?!
[ How the hell did this asshole get his number anyway?! ]
no subject
I asked first.
[Like a dog with a bone, Ryuji's chewing on those last few glimpses before everything had gone black--the dumbbell glistening with something wet under the harsh artificial lights, the guilty bow of Mondo's head. He gnaws on the spiked, almost panicked rage, the girl attesting to look up to the strong Oowada Mondo.
She'd put her trust in him, and been repaid with violence. If eyes are windows to the soul, then manifestations of the mind the likes of which they'd just experienced are windows to the heart. Real or not, the fact that it'd featured in Mondo's mind says something about the person that mind belongs to.]
no subject
Yeah, that fucking happened. Happy? Now tell me what the fuck that whole thing was. You know somethin'... don't you?
[ Look, he knows full well he deserves to feel like the worst human being in the world. He definitely wants to do shit to atone for his past sins, but that's got nothin' to do with this asshole. He didn't need to answer that question ー but now that he did, he expects to get one in return. ]
no subject
I know what I saw, you shitbag. Ain't that enough?
[And because he saw, it just became Ryuji's business, contrary to whatever Mondo might wish. Killers don't get the luxury of personal space--in their guilty consciences or in prison.
Which is where he's starting to think Mondo might belong, not here in Wonderland.]
So that was a memory. Who was that girl? What'd you do to her!? Answer me, and don't even think about lying. I saw everythin'--that was you holdin' the dumbbell.
That was why you didn't wanna go in there. You knew what was goin' happen, didn't you?
no subject
Sure, he can't deny he's done something horrible he can never take back. But again, it's none of this shithead's fucking business. He's got no rights to judge when he barely knows anything.
Despite the anger, Mondo has no more energy to bark back. Instead, he spits out poison with vicious low snarl. ]
I answered your goddamn question... Answer mine. Where the fuck were we, if that ain't a dream?
[ His grip tightens on the palm pilot. ]
If you're not gonna give me one, I've got no business with ya.
no subject
[Avoiding and backpedaling, spoken like a true criminal who refuses to look their crime in the eye.
People's Shadows are more honest for a reason. Cognitive Mondo's dazed regret had seemed sincere in the moment, but there's little trace of it in Mondo's voice now. In the proverbial light of day, people have a thousand false fronts to choose from.]
You tell me. We were in your head. Haven't you figured it out yet? Everythin' after we climbed out of the sewer was a part of you. Your thoughts. Your memories.
no subject
Why're you askin' me all these questions you know the answer to?
[ No one told him that this kind of shittery is possible here, but he won't blame them for not letting him know that ー no one wants their past to be seen like that either. Giving out such information might not bode well for them in the first place. ]
no subject
I should have done something. I should have stopped it. I should have done something. Around and around and around turns an illogical wheel of regret that he can't seem to stop.]
What kinda crap is that?
[If he's going to answer questions with questions, he could at least make them good ones.]
You've rubbed me wrong since day effin' one, but even so, I wasn't expectin' that. That...
[He's at a loss for the right words to encompass the grisly scene they'd left behind. Stupidly, he feels betrayed. He's entered the mental landscapes of other people plenty of times, but almost always knowing what they were capable of beforehand, the crimes they'd committed. Steeled to see it reflected in their Palaces.
--Almost always.
He'd been caught off guard the first time with Kamoshida, unprepared to find out just how bad it was. It'd been a rude awakening, just as it is now. He can't help but feel a personal edge of indignation toward Mondo for unknowingly blindsiding him again, finding a crack in the thick skin he'd worn to face down dozens of murderers back in the Metaverse.
This is different. It feels more personal. He'd been a part of it; now he's too close. He can't detach. He can't... get that girl's face out of his head. Anger is a comforting and familiar blanket to pull over him in the waking world the same way he puts on his Skull mask in the cognitive one.]
Why? [It has the despairing disorientation of a child finding out the world is inherently unfair. Why do bad things have to happen?] Why'd you do it?
no subject
Don't think I owe you an answer for that.
[ But that is that, this is this. ]
no subject
[He's practically shouting now, and he doesn't care. The guy doesn't just get to avoid the subject now that it's been dragged into the light. And he's got another thing coming if he thinks Ryuji's going to sit back and let him do it.]
You might not care, but I do! I just saw two people die. I'm involved now! And you--you owe her.
[Maybe not Ryuji, maybe not the brother on the matching motorcycle, but the kid Mondo assaulted is squarely on his shoulders.]
no subject
[ 'You owe her'. Hah. Like Mondo doesn't know how much he owed Fujisaki already. He takes a deep breath, trying to settle his nerves. This tug of war is such a fucking waste of time. He's done. ]
If you've got nothin' better to say I'm hangin' up.
no subject
[He would say he's never met someone this selfish before, but he has. He just doesn't usually end up confronting them in reality.]
Are you really that much of a cold-blooded coward you're gonna brush it off? Try and act like it didn't happen? It wasn't a dream! All of that's in your head. You can't hide from what we both saw.
[Mondo's on hands and knees crawling beneath that low bar, but somehow he still manages to squeeze underneath it.]
Say somethin'!
voice ▹ action
[ A forced, cracking laughter booms on the device speaker. ]
News for ya: I don't give a crap what you think about me. I don't fuckin' care if you hate me, or treat me like some goddamn criminal. 'Cuz guess what? That's a fact! What, are you gonna say you were trying to believe me, or some shit like that? [ This time, a more natural-sounding chuckle leaves him. ] Too bad. [ There was no trace of amusement in it, though. ] It's rainin' on your parade, shithead. Well, at least you can have your throne of shit-eatin' saint all to yourself. Enjoy it.
[ And with that, Mondo hangs up, throwing the device to another side of his bed.
...That was... Much.
The fact that a lifeー no, two lives were gone under his hands never stopped haunting him. Ever since he's gotten his 'second chance' here in Wonderland, he's got plenty of times to think about it, to mull over it, to involuntarily have the scene replaying in his head over and over. He'd expect himself not to feel so strongly about the exposure of the 'same old thing' for the umpteenth time, and yet... He sighs loudly, covering his face with his broad palms. Once again, it makes him wonder, why him? Why Mondo, out of all people, who gets the chance to live again? Why not Aniki? Why not Fujisaki? The charismatic leader and the prodigy programmer ー they both deserved their lives much, much more than him. They had promising future and potentials ahead. They were strong, stronger than a lot of people. Stronger... than him. ]
Khー Fuck.
[ Conversation with that punk gave him so much bitter aftertaste, god. He totally needed all the reminders. If only he could spit them out, vomit those poisonous substances that squashed him tight inside, maybe it'd feel better. Alas, there's no way to boot out the intangible. ]
Goddammit!
[ Ugh, fuck sleeping. Who the hell can sleep after that anyway?!
In a matter of minute, he gets off his bed, out of his room, and down the stairs. He keeps going and going. It doesn't matter where, he needs to get away, get out of there, somewhere. ]
no subject
Some act like confessing after they're caught is the same as owning up, and shrug their shoulders as if to say "what's done is done, no point crying over spilled blood."
They're all shades of the same chicken shit in Ryuji's eyes.
The Phantom Thieves of Hearts had been born from wanting to break from the society that condoned such weak-willed, distorted lines of thinking; Mondo gets a phantom thief's corresponding condemnation. Does Ryuji want excuses? No. Is he the person who needs convincing? No. That Mondo has made a murderer of himself beyond justification is something they can both agree on.]
She's the one who believed in you, Oowada.
[It's what Fujisaki, and Mondo himself, are (were) holding onto in their hearts that matter, not Ryuji. But he doesn't get a chance to say that before he's greeted with the dial tone at the end of the defensive rant.
He growls into the receiver. So that's how it's going to be, huh? Still hiding.
Well, it's a small world. Mondo can run, but the one thing he can't do is hide forever.]