Can I Ask You Something?
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |
You were online a week later.
It was a boring day, with a slow start and by night, you were starting to feel restless, your feet bouncing and an empty bag of chips rests on your nightstand. You were itching for something to do, anything to distract but no show or game could hold your attention. You throw your head back and gnaw at your bottom lip.
Your fingers tap against the keyboard, and with a glance at the time, you pull up the calendar for the group time slots and with a fairly positive outlook that that you wouldn’t run into the other team members, you booted up the game, and started a simple mission but even then your attention couldn’t be held. The game had already lost its spark for you.
You admit that you reacted childishly in response to being yelled at. You were always sensitive, you cried too much and took everything personally even if you tried not to but for some reason it just hit different when he had yelled at you.
You were so angry with him at the time. But when you awoke the next day, you were angry with yourself. You made that dumb post and now you had to hold off for a month to show that his words didn’t hurt you- you had a point to prove, you didn’t want to seem as someone who reacted so childishly.
You thought you would miss the game but having not played for a period of time, you were starting to enjoy your time. You slept a bit earlier, your back wasn’t sore from hunching over and you had started to pick up old hobbies that you dropped when you got sucked into this game. Picking it back up, the game no longer felt the same. You remember you could get lost in this game for hours, you liked the customization options, the weapons, and the soundtrack was pretty good, but for now as you wandered around a forest, looking for a crystal that wouldn’t be of any real use to you seeing as you had already decided to quit the game for good, you were grateful for the distraction.
But as the clock ticked on, you had already grown bored, feeling your joints become sore and a headache forming. You were about to exit out of the game and pray that none of the members would see that you were active but then a ‘ding’ startled you awake. You peeked at the corner of the screen, a familiar icon popping up. You frowned, your shoulders slumped and you debated with yourself on whether you should open the message or not but your curiosity won over.
<Tomaraki>
>Are you quitting the game or not?
“Blunt as always,” you thought to yourself, your fingers already typing at the keyboard.
<User_Name>
>Yeah:P
His reply came a second later.
<Tomaraki>
>Why?
You wanted to type, “Why do you care?” You really did. You had the words on screen, the cursor blinking back at you, but you couldn’t force yourself to press the ‘Enter’ key. The corner of your mouth twitched and you backspaced, the message disappearing and replaced by another.
<User_Name>
>I don’t know. I’m kinda sick of it, you know? The user base is p toxic and I know that can be said for most games but I don’t know┐(´～｀)┌
>Plus after taking a break and coming back to it,,, the game doesn’t feel the same anymore
>I’m kind of bored of it
<Tomaraki>
>That’s stupid
You let of a scoff, rolling your eyes at his answer.
<User_Name>
>I have been known to be pretty dumb
>I’m sure you’ve called me stupid before too lol
You watch as the three dots bubble up and down the screen, signifying his reply is being typed out and having no other form of entertainment, you take in a deep breath and with butterflies flapping around in your stomach, you type out more before he can reply to your original message.
>Will you be fine without me?
>You won’t miss your bestest pal uwu
On the other side of the screen, Shigaraki narrows his eyes. His eyes shine dangerously, and he’s positive if you knew who were talking to, you’d be shaking and begging for you life. Or perhaps you’d be dead. He’s not sure.
<Tomaraki>
>I have better ‘friends’ than you
“Ouch.” You cringe inwardly. “Strike one.”
<User_Name>
>Wow, rude much??
>Well if I’m quitting, do you want my stuff? I’ve racked up a decent amount of gold and other stuff:P
“I sound like I’m dying and writing my will, stop being weird about it. You never even meet the dude,” you mumble to yourself, grateful that the voice chat function was off. “Oh my god. He could be like super old or something”
<Tomaraki>
>Does it look like I take handouts?
“Is that a strike two?” You chewed on the idea of your cheek. “If I have to ask, it probably was.”
<User_Name>
Can I ask you something?
<Tomaraki>
You just did
<User_Name>
:////
You were about to type out your question, the four words staring back at you unblinking. It would be weird, right? Of course it would be. And even if you did ask him that, the odds of him accepting would be slim. Plus, if he did reject, that would be strike three and you really didn’t want to strike out so much.
<Tomaraki>
>Well?
<User_Name>
>Um,,,
>How old are you?
You threw your head into your hands and let out an agonized moan. Maybe you should just delete your account now. You don’t even know the guy’s name and he doesn’t know yours. So you could just delete your account and that would be it. You’d never have to speak to him ever again.
<Tomaraki>
>You’re weird
You start laughing.
<User_Name>
>Says the guy who would tell other players to be careful who they’re talking to
>Who are you? Light Yagami?
<Tomaraki>
>That’s a shit reference
<User_Name>
>You got it tho
>(ʃƪ¬‿¬)
<Tomaraki>
>Why do you want to know?
“You have nothing to lose really,” you try to convince yourself as a way to just get to talk to him more.
<User_Name>
>I don’t know
>After a while, I always thought of you as a friend
>The other members sorta liked me, but I think it was more of them putting up with me
>But I thought we were beginning to form a friendship so I don’t know
>I guess a dumb part of me thought we could’ve been friends outside of the game:P
Shigaraki stares at the screen in disbelief. You must not have much or any friends at all if you thought he was being friendly. He’s positive that he would kill you if he knew you in real life. Probably right away if he met you on the street or maybe he’d take you as a hostage. He’s sure that he’d kill you but now he’s not sure when.
<Tomaraki>
>You really are dumb
<User_Name>
>I can’t tell if you mean it or not
>Knowing you, you probably do
>Can I say good-bye to you? Like facecam wise?
He’d kill you on sight.
<User_Name>
>You don’t have to turn your camera on!! I guess, as my last like dumb wish, I wanna say bye?
>Pleaseee（/｡＼)
>I’ll promise to log out afterwards
Shigaraki stares at your messages, trying to gauge at what you’re trying to get at. Do you really want to just say bye? Who the hell gets so emotional in a fucking game? But he would be lying is he said he wasn’t at least a bit curious to see what you look like. Maybe if he’s lucky you’ll be attractive and he could probably jerk at the thought of you before he goes to bed.
<Tomaraki>
>I’m not showing my face
You smile at his answer. It’s the best that you were hoping for and you start to brush your hair out of your face, checking the mirror on your nightstand to see if you look presentable.
<User_Name>
>Fine by me
>It’ll be quick, promise:)
And soon he’s staring at the pop-up screen asking if he’d like to request a video call from you. He’s tempted to click no. He cranes his head behind him and once he’s certain that the door is closed, he accepts your call.
You pop up on screen. You’re cute, that’s as much as he’s willing to admit. You adjusting yourself, putting a strand of hair behind your ear before you realize that the call has been accepted. You look startled, and a shade of pink fills in your cheeks. You giggle nervously, waving a hand at the screen.
“Ahaha, hi!” You giggle nervously and he’s pretty sure you’re already regretting this decision. “So like I promised to keep this short and all, so I will.” You looked determined; you stand a bit straighter and take in a deep breath. You remind him of an anime character, someone with exaggerated movements and he’s positive that you’ve confessed your feelings to someone before in that same action.
“Now, now,” his voice freezes you in place, he reminds me you of snake, slithering towards their unassuming prey and you’re pretty sure that’s what he’s trying to convey, “what’s the rush? I thought we were “bestest friends”.” His voice is sickly sweet, taunting you with words that you’ve spoken. His words make you nervous, your hands clenching together and your stomach forming knots.
And suddenly it’s clicked in your mind that he wants to make you feel uncomfortable. He’s probably getting off at the thought of it. And while he is succeeding at that, you don’t want to lose whatever game he’s playing.
“Ha! You admitted it.” You swallow the lump in your throat and flex your fingers. “Okay bestie,” the way you say the word is like you’re trying to bait him into something, and even you’re not sure what you’re leading him into, “I gotta ask. Are you an old man? You sound kind of creepy. Not like a pervy creepy but like you’re gonna kidnap me and murder me in your basement kind of creepy.”
He laughs and you decide that you want to hear more of it- even if it does sound eerie.
“Do me a favor? If you do end up kidnapping me, can you at least bring me a smoothie from BlueBird’s?” You test out your luck, hoping that he’ll play along so you’re not the only talking and maybe it’ll disrupt whatever ruse he was planning.
“What flavor?” He sneered, playing at this sick roleplay that you made up.
You smiled brightly, as if you had gotten one over him, and surprisingly, he didn’t hate your smile. He’s seen all sorts of smiles directed towards him- crazed, trying to get into his good graces, smiles that held murderous intent but yours just looked happy, happy that you were talking to him. Illuminated by a yellow glow, his sneer looks more twisted, his upper lip curling in a twisted way and crimson eyes narrowed with revulsion.
“Mango, please and thank you.” You nodded your head, your smile wasn’t gentle as it was before, it was now playful, as if you wanted to continue this whole kidnapping scenario. He wanted to see how long this conversation would go before you said goodbye. For good. “Anyways, I said I’d make this quick and I will. I—”
“I’m not an old man.”
You laughed at his answer, covering your smile with your hand, and you looked up at him, your eyes brimming with mischief and excitement.
“Okay. And I’m not some elderly person either.”
“Yeah dumbass, I can see that.”
You crossed your arms and you continued to smile at him. “I get that we’re besties and all, but do you really have to keep insulting me?” You pouted your lips, before they broke out into a toothy smile, it was a bit forced but it was only to show that you were joking around with him.
“Is there any other type of friendship?” He genuinely sounded a bit curious.
“Mm, maybe?” You tilted you head to the side and he had a fleeting thought that you reminded him of a cat. “I mean, when I’m with my friends, we joke a lot but we don’t really insult each other too often.” You frowned a bit, your eyebrows furrowed before returning to the screen, giving out a half smile and shrugging your shoulders. “Thin skin, I guess.” A pause was in the air, too uncomfortable for your liking. “Are your friendships like that? Insulting, I mean.”
He hesitated for a second before replying, his voice drenched in fake nonchalance, “That’s a dumb question.”
You took that as a clue to not dwell on the subject any longer. You nodded to yourself forgetting that you were screen, only to hear him chortle on the other side.
“Are you agreeing that it’s a dumb question?”
You stretched your mouth into a nervous smile, heat lighting your cheeks as you racked your brain for a solid excuse on why you nodded to yourself. “Um, yeah?” You didn’t sound confident in the slightest but Shigaraki was curious on how you would save your own skin this time even if this conversation was rather dull. “Like, I guess it would make sense that you said that.” You brought your hands up, and shrugged them, your fingers curling inwards. “It was you who like really enforced the rule about not talking about your personal life so it makes sense that you wouldn’t want to talk about your IRL friend groups.” You leaned further back, your pillows providing comfort against the hard wood that was your bed frame.
No noise came from him other than that of fabric being moved around and scratching at the microphone. “Did you really just say ‘IRL’ instead of ‘in real life’?” He sounded smug about it, as if he had proof that you were a total dweeb. “I never took you for one of those people.” He said ‘those people’ as if it left a sour taste in his mouth.
You let out a nervous laugh, before it grew into a snicker with your eyes shut. “First of all, ‘IRL” is faster to say compared to ‘in real life’ so jot that down. Second of all,” you tilted your chin upwards, giving you a false sense of superiority, “you’re the only always going on about “eat shit and die” and “suck my dick”,” your voice dropped an octave, a poor imitation of the man who hide behind a black screen. “So if I’m one of those people, then you’re like the poster boy of a gamer gatekeeper.”
“It’s not my fault other players are shit.” He breathed out.
“Oh yeah, the other players are shit; it totally isn’t you acting better than everyone.” You rolled your eyes, shaking your head, your tone teasing.
“I’m glad you agree,” he replied, letting out huffs of air through his nose.
It grew silent once more, and this time you weren’t uncomfortable with it, it had actually felt nice. Comfortable, even. Well at least as comfortable as it could get when you couldn’t see the other game but he could see you and all your mannerisms. You clasped your hands together, intertwining them, your attention focused on the black that took up nearly all of your screen, save for your own square that held you on the left hand corner.
“I think,” you started out, the words heavy on your lips, “I think I’m ready to say goodbye.” Once you started, you couldn’t stop. A part of you wished he would interrupt and maybe ask for your email or phone number so you could continue to keep in contact, but you knew that wouldn’t happen. Whatever this was, this odd one-sided friendship, stayed and died here. “It was fun talking to you. Even if you were a dick.” You gave the man a smile, you hoped that it was seen as happy, teasing one. “I liked this one-sided friendship. Even if it hadn’t lasted for long.” You bite down on your lips, your teeth dragging against your dry, bottom lip and you reached over to your nightstand, grabbing your chapstick, rubbing the tube with your fingers before clenching it in one hand. “It was nice knowing you Tomaraki. Take care, okay?”
You didn’t wait for his reply- you knew that you wouldn’t get one. You scrolled your mouse of to the telephone outline, and as you were about to click it, his voice rasped out, telling you to wait. Startled you pulled back, the mouse jerked downwards, moving past the outline and you stared at him, eyes wide and head cocked to the side, waiting for him to speak further.
He hadn’t known why he shouted for you to wait. He didn’t even want to talk to you in the first place, it was your promise that you would leave him alone that even convinced him to accept your request but here he was, barking at you to wait as you stared at him with owlish eyes and a closed mouth as you gave him the floor to speak. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know why he sounded so frantic at the thought of you leaving and then quitting the game, any form of communication getting erased within minutes.
“I,” he started out, grateful that the screen was black on his end, his hands coming up to pick at his neck, “What’s that?” He was going to kick himself later, he was sure of it.
You tilted your head, your eyes narrowing before landing on the tube in your hand. “This?” You held the tube upright, a confused smile gracing your features. “It’s chapstick. It’s uh-” you turned the tube over, looking for the label where it stated its flavor- “It’s vanilla honey flavored.” You opened the tube and rubbed the chapstick on your lips, smacking them together. “Why? You looking for recommendations?”
He decided to go for a truth, knowing that it wouldn’t give anything away. “I have dry lips.”
“Oh.” You pursed your lips, and you scratched at the area where your jawline meets your neck. “I’m not knowledgeable about the different types of chapsticks, I usually like to get the ones that have a nice flavor. I had this peppermint one but I lost it. Are you drinking enough water? That should help too. You could also try lip scrubs. You don’t have to buy them, you could always make them at home but you’d need brown sugar for a rougher feel.” You rambled on, moving your hands around, and his eyes stayed trained at your moving hands, your voice growing distant. He could only hum in response as you continued to talk and mention stores that sold lip scrubs.
“Uh, Toma? You there?” You asked, your hands clenching and bringing them closer to your chest.
He raised his eyebrows at the sound of a nickname. “Toma?”
“Hah, uh yeah. Tomaraki is too long, I mean unless you want me to call you something else?” You seemed invested with continuing the conversation and he could understand why. You always craved attention- always undermined your skills, all so someone could praise you. But why did he want to continue this conversation? Was it simply because he had someone talk to him about mundane things, things that didn’t carry so much weight? Was it because you treated him as if he were a person first, rather than a villain?
“No. No I don’t mind.” His voice came out softer than he expecting, than you were expecting given that your eyes widen, your mouth pulled into an ‘o’ shape before you smiled gently at him, your lips turning slightly upwards.
“Okay.” You held your breath for a second. “Do you wanna call me by my name?” Your voice was soft, matching his tone from earlier.
He wanted to snap at you, asking why he would even want to but he couldn’t bring himself to. He didn’t know how to answer you without snapping. But you took pity on him, his silence deafening and you told him your name, you voice sweet and heating him up from within, the heat pooling in his stomach before travelling upwards into his chest, a momentary blast of warmth before it faded away. He tested your name on his tongue, the word heavy and foreign on his tongue. He repeated your name, the odd feeling being replaced by familiarity.
“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” You smiled, your tone playful but still soft, as you sank deeper into your mattress, your legs aching in protest from being in a still position for so long.
He didn’t have a comeback. He remained silent, repeating your name in his head, the tone of your voice when you asked him if he had wanted to know and when you spoke it, invading all of his thoughts.
“You know,” you started out, stifling a yawn behind a hand, “if you had wanted to continue this conversation you could’ve just said so. I don’t mind talking to you.”
“You’re tired.” He opted to avoid confirming or denying your accusation.
“It’s late, of course I’m tired.” He suddenly took notice of the way your eyes were starting to droop, how your eyes would widen, forcing them to stay open.
“You should go to bed.” His voice was stiff, he didn’t want to continue this conversation but he saw you frown, your lips downturned, noticing the difference in tone but you quickly smiled, any features of disappointment being erased.
“But this conversation was just getting good,” You whined, another yawn coming out, tears pricking your eyes. “Hey, I got a dumb idea,” you said.
“All your ideas are dumb,” he muttered underneath his breath, missing the fall of your face that disappeared before he could turn back.
“You want my number?” You ran a hand through your hair, swallowing deeply, your mouth suddenly dry and the chapstick on your lips too heavy. “If you want, of course. You don’t have to exchange yours. But you aren’t obligated to reply to me either. Obviously.”
He hesitated to answer; both to see you squirm in your seat but also because he was unsure. Did he want to continue this friendship that would only end sour, that wouldn’t progress further than what it already was. He reasoned to himself that if the friendship was going to stay stagnated, what was the harm of saying yes? What was the harm of talking to you a bit longer?
He nodded his head, only to realize that you couldn’t see him. The only reason you weren’t reporting him to the police, calling and screaming for heroes was because you couldn’t see him. A hand reached over to grab Father, his other hand tugging at the skin on his neck, feeling the cold air of the room sting at the raw flesh. Your reaction to his answer gave him an odd sense of pride on how you had swelled up, giving him a wide grin, the smile reaching your eyes and you sat up straighter, asking him if he was ready and you began to tell him your phone number, repeating it to make sure he had gotten it down correctly, the grin on your lips never leaving.
Ten minutes later, your account was deleted, all assets transferred over to Toma. Your eyes burned with sleep, the blankets on top of you suddenly weighed a ton, and right before you gave in to sleep, butterflies slowly started to form in your stomach.
In a dark room, only lit up by the screen of his phone, Shigaraki stays up, his eyes burning with the need for sleep as he just stares blankly at the your number. He wonders to himself why he had even agreed to accept your number, but he couldn’t go back in time and reject your offer- the most he could do was not message you. He closed his eyes, his mind drifting back and forth between ignoring you tomorrow or attempt to have a conversation with you.
Tagged:
@rogueofbullshit
