Monokuma was going to get scolded or something â that was his expectation just in general when it came to Togami. If he stepped out of line, heâd never hear the end of it. If he did something stupid, even more-so. Unfortunately for him this time around, he was probably doing a mixture of both. Heâd been staring at the Mastermind quietly now for some amount of time, after having bugged him until heâd been willing to give his attention to the bear â but now he was⊠what did they call it? Tongue-tied? Ugh, gross. Couldnât stay that way for long, though, could he? If he didnât choke something out, his pride be damned, heâd probably get more than an earful for wasting the heirâs precious time.
Clearing his throat, the bear lifted up both paws, which clutched a neat little envelope with quick scribbles on the front which read simply read his name, âBYAKUYA.â
âJuuuuuust had mail for you. You donât have to look so harsh. Yeeesh, get some sunlight. Brighten your attitude.â The bear shrugged, as if nothing were unusual at all, and hopped down from where he sat. His steps were a little more hurried than usual to get out of the room before Togami had time to actually open said mail. Not like it was important, anyways, so he didnât want to see what he would do when he saw it. Throw it away or something, probably â at least that would cause Monokuma despair. He still didnât want to watch.
It was dumb; just a drawing that took him all of two minutes and had the skill of a pre-school artist, along with the shortest note ever. He was scared to say too much to Byakuya, admittedly â but also wary of saying too little. The SHSL Prick had said it himself⊠he wasnât his dad. But that wouldnât stop the bear, it seemed. He was as stubborn as he was prideful. If that wasnât like father, like son, he didnât know what the hell was.
Iâm never saying this to your face and if you make smug comments or allude to this letter next time I see you, Iâll pretend your tripping on acid or whatever it is you kids say these days. But, uh, thanks. For. I donât know. Stuff. Things. Nothing. Everything.
I guess youâre kinda okay and I sorta like you even though youâre a jerk who refuses to recognize your amazingly awesome bear son.
Some despairing morons were talking about Fatherâs Day and how they didnât know where their fathers were or if they were alive and I was like, L-O-L losers. Then I thought about it more and figured Iâd give you a thing because who the hell else would.
Get your head out of your ass a little so that you donât get hurt in all this despair madness. Iâd like you to be alive next year and the year after that and the year after that so that I can keep giving you things on Fatherâs Day to annoy you. So, you know. Make sure all your plans work.
Iâm subtly saying donât die, jackass.