Underestimation. This was always such a problem. ♪
His size, his stature, his beautiful face, his sweet voice. Despite his talent in deception, these were all problems, for they all allowed him to be underestimated. Undermined. Unimpressed. Yes, that last one especially. It ground in the very recesses of his mind, burying his good intention with the darkest, blackest hate. Hatred. He hated people like this. ♪
And this world hated him as well. This world had been unimpressed with him from the very beginning, from his first moments in the sewer to the very circumstances he could now call the present. A pity, really, that this absolute buffoon felt the need to exercise this supposed dominance over him, as if he was somehow better. They always thought they were better. They always were not. His words had been the truth, unabashed. Kou was better. He had fought to be the best, the very best he could be. No longer a child of innocence, dreaming of a blue sky. Those dreams were dead. ♪
He had killed them. And so did people like this Joseph Joestar. ♪
Disgusting. Disgusting! His voice, that annoying voice like daggers in his ears. Pounding, pounding, shut up, just shut the fuck up! His entire presence was an invasion in his peace; it reminded him of his past, everything he hated about his life and himself. Yes, he hated himself. But nobody would ever know that. Not even his brothers, although he sometimes wondered if they had already knew. Shut up, shut up--He would exercise the world's hatred before ever admitting his own. This was always how he operated. His anger was fever pitch, teeth grinding, jaw clenching and unclenching. This fool knew nothing and yet he continued to defy him!? Shut up, just shut up, shut the fuck-- ♪
His body moved faster than his rapid thoughts, in his actions a new violence. It was hardly playful, this time; despite his size, his anger would allow the other to be slammed to the nearest wall by his shoulders, a hand moving to curve around his neck. His fat neck full of putrid blood, a means of hurting him... ah, but that was too easy. Too easy, too easy, Kou was better than such an obvious target. He had better plans. Always better. ♪
"You really are... stupid." His voice was grave, void of its musicality. "Talking so much... you like talking so much, Meathead-kun... you simply won't listen... ......kind I am, so very kind, I... I will make it... easier!" The last word came as a growl of sorts; with the knife poised in his opposite hand, he sliced along the corner of Joseph's mouth, extending out to just under his cheekbone. "Keep talking, don't you want to keep talking for me!? Talk louder for me!" And on the other side, now, jagged ever more as his hand shook and his smile seemed to rip into his own lips as well. A glasgow grin bathed in blood. "Talk, talk with that damn mouth of yours!" ♪
And Joseph was thrown to the ground, now. Empty of remorse he kicked against Joseph's stomach, relishing any screams or groans of pain the other delivered. The cuts would hurt more that way, his kicks relentless. "Louder, louder! I know you can talk louder! Ahaha, that big fuckin' mouth--I've made it so easy for you!" Kick. Kick. Kick-- "Scream, you damn fool, ahaha~!" A momentary cease as he collected himself, his chest rising and falling heavily. What a rush, a wonderful rush he had almost missed in a way... such an amazing rush that he didn't seem to notice his sloppy cuts having also cut some of his hand, as well. No matter. ♪
Crouching, he grabbed Joseph by the hair. That look in his eyes, oh that lovely distant look! Kou couldn't help but smile again. "... ...I had so much... fun. So much fun~. ... ...I love that look. You have truly failed, ne~?" A harder pull. "... ...Never underestimate me, Meathead-kun..." ♪
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