“..Shut up.”
It hurt her to hear the venomous words spurting from his mouth. Selfish as that seemed; she wanted him to stop. He had every right to vent and say what he wanted — hell, she was very well acquainted with self-loathing, but when it came to Naegi-— It wasn’t right. Mukuro assumed that it was something to do with her view on Naegi. He was fragile, and he knew it. That’s what bugged her. She knew he was weak to an extent. She was, too. They were both strong as hell when it came to some things, but she saw the weakness and the loathing that came along with it.
Admiration was also on the cards — Mukuro wasn’t exactly sure on the details of what Naegi had been through, but it sounded shitty. —In fact, that was it, really. Naegi had been dealt a shit hand in life, overall. He was most of the things he said, although Mukuro knew them without the negative connotation. God, she wanted to protect him. To make sure he was safe and sound. But how could she do that when she could barely look after herself?
Mukuro was pretty fucked up. Naegi was pretty fucked up. They were both relatively fucked up— or had been fucked over, if you will. She felt so comfortable with him. He had no expectations of her, and vice versa. It was natural. Everything was natural around them. So why was she in this predicament, now?
His words echoed through her mind as she reiterated them over and over subconsciously. Why was she here? Well.. Because.. Because Naegi was her friend. Because Naegi was one of the only people she’d ever really considered to be somebody to rely on. Somebody she could trust; could appreciate and love. And he returned that affection. She knew he did. Just.. Seemingly a little more than she did. —No, that was false. It wasn’t any more than her. Mukuro didn’t know her own feelings or what they entailed, but she knew damn well she couldn’t bare losing Makoto.
“..Me? I’m here for you, of course. Pity isn’t my thing. I’m here.. Because you mean— Fuck-— You mean a lot to me. An— And. I don’t know.. What that means. I’m pretty sure I don’t know how to comprehend this which is why I’m so calm, maybe. I don’t know. I— I care about you. I dragged myself out into the shitty weather and jumped onto a grimy bus to come and see you and to help as best I could. I— I mean. Who knows, right? Who knows how I feel, because I sure as hell don’t. I’m not sure about much. But— But I’m sure that I like you— In what way? Who knows, yet again. ..I like Hajime, too. Again— Not too sure how or what that entails, but.
It’s not your fault for having feelings, Naegi. It’s totally your fault for being interested in a twat such as myself, but there you go. It’s weird, really. I— I kind of do the same thing. People I’m comfortable with become the people I love. That’s how it is. You shouldn’t punish yourself just because you felt comfortable with me and fell in too deep. It happens.. ..It happens.
I’m here because I don’t want you to go through all of this shit that you’re feeling, alone. I— I don’t want you to experience the emptiness and hopelessness. I don’t— Hah. I don’t think I could forgive myself if I did.”
She's here...to do all the things that made me fall for her. Again. Why did I even ask?
Makoto bit his lip as his gaze dropped from hers, and he clutched his fists and breathed out a heavy, labored breath from his nose, leaning back against the wall and propping up his foot back against the wall as well. His shitty posture was a source of comfort to him as his heart throbbed horribly and made his chest feel tight, as if the contact with the wall wicked off some of the pressure.
But what is she even suggesting?
The floral patterns on his parents' carpet became immensely interesting as his cheeks filled with red, out of frustration, out of the aching feeling of hoping that she meant that she might still give him a thumb of affection out of her hand, but how selfish and disgusting, rather pathetic, that was, and he killed the thought quickly. That wouldn't happen. No one thought of him that way that others wouldn't be several times better for.
But being alone was how he always dealt with it. He would have been okay with it. It would have been a steady detox-- but he would have cut himself off from her. And that was something he realized he would not have done, because it was too...important. Too warm, too comfortable to leave behind, like the blanket on the bed on a winter morning. He'd freeze to death.
Losing a friend, a real, actual friend to something like this would be the most shameful experience of his life. And he was fed up with being ashamed of himself.
"...Thank you, Mukuro."
The words came out with remarkable ease. No. He wasn't about to blame her for that. For this. For being...more wonderful than she sold herself. And he was grateful that she was that way. Because he would have let himself be hurt by his mistakes and dealt with it otherwise.
"It doesn't...matter, really. How you express it. Not to me. I just don't want to lose it. That's all. I'll be happy if you're here at all."
"You're the one with an unclear choice. You're the one who has to figure out what works for you. And I want to make that as easy for you as possible. S-so let me know. What you want me to do."
