Ushio has to justify her every preference with a number (right down to a hobby as mundane as enjoying stand-up comedy). Her own vulnerability burns her just as much as air on her skin. If anyone starts to get close to her (if anyone provokes a positive emotion from her that she can't drown and ignore), she'll spray water at their face like a hissing cat that's gotten ahold of the spray bottle.
She's the type of person who'll spend days hovering over you while you're sick and bedridden, then hand you an invoice (not a Venmo request; a proper, formal business invoice) for $26.81. That sort of money is nothing to her--she knows it's nothing to you--but putting her care behind a service and payment lets her hide from how much it mattered to her.
Even when Gero gets her to open up and step out of her armor, she falls back into her old habits. She can't just say that she wants to date him; she has to frame it as her payment to him for services rendered. She can't just enjoy a date with him; it has to be worth his time. So she spends a day researching and planning a down-to-the-second itinerary because she's not willing to accept anything less than perfection.
There’s a fun little thing called opportunity cost. The price of fast food isn’t the $15-20 bill. It’s the grocery store sandwich and half-off Hollow Knight sale you could have spent that $15-20 on instead. The price of spending an hour staring at a wall because work kicked your ass isn’t 1 hour. It’s the half a Guillermo Del Toro movie you could have watched instead. And there’s always something better you could have done with your time or your money.
Ushio understands this. Ushio has internalized this in an incredibly unhealthy way.
One of the stand-up shows goes over time, interfering with her itinerary. Performers don’t live up to her expectations, when there’s a hypothetical, perfect set she and Gero could be seeing instead. The show-stopper she had lined up is sold out before she can grab tickets.
Mundane disappointments and inconveniences that people run with every day of their lives. But Ushio can't, because the date is a payment and she has Gero to impress. So she drags him from show to show, each failure trapping her even deeper in her own head because she knows she's fucking up.
But realizing you're making mistakes and stopping yourself from making those mistakes are two entirely different things. Her programming isn't to shed her expectations and relax; it's to double down on hitting perfection.
Despite Ushio’s best self-sabotaging, the date works out. Gero already had people to teach him that he's allowed to relax and just enjoy things (Ushio hasn't). He's willing to make the most of what's available and not worry about what they're missing (Ushio isn't). So, when he walks into a random, open show because it’s better than doing nothing, Ushio gets tsundere about it but follows him anyway. And, now that her expectations are set at rock bottom, she manages to have a good time.
Ushio's world is numbers. That final performance (which she genuinely enjoys) isn't real until she can star it out of five, review it, and (knowing her) throw it into a tracking app for later reference. That's the comfort space that she always comes back to.
Ushio trapped herself, making the date a payment. A payment has to have value, and she is painfully aware that she would have ruined the date if Gero had not suggested that last show. She can't trust a smile on Gero's face as proof that he had fun.
Her value isn't real unless someone is willing to star it out of five.
Ushio knows that's dumb. She knows it's desperate and pathetic to ask. But, knowing you're being ridiculous and stopping yourself from being ridiculous are two entirely different things. And, besides, she doesn't think she has anything to lose; stars out of five can't go below zero.
Ushio sees the value of the date as the shows they went to. Gero sets the value of the date in the time he spent with her, getting to see her smile and enthusiasm. So, as far as he's concerned, everything was perfect: 5 out of 5. And Kinosaki (and everyone else Gero’s met up to this point) gave him the social skills he needs to get that through to Ushio, so that she believes that quality time with her was all he wanted and all he needed.
It breaks her a little, believing that someone values her instead her work or success.
I understand all of the Marriagetoxin characters. But I know Ushio.
dededos
janainaart
areudirty
blakekathryn
stormborns
ellievsbear
