Chapter Text
Tanaka didn’t like the social formulas of the world. It was difficult enough to hold their tongue in conversation without getting the looks they hate. That look, like something was wrong with him, like he spoke out of turn. But it was even more strenuous to do so while counting eye contact, waiting for the other person to finish talking, and then calculating the most ‘socially acceptable’ response.
You see where this is going.
After so many years of futile, floundered attempts at building the “perfect persona,’ Gundham realized it didn’t matter anymore. They had always been weird, and even when they tried not to be, it was like everyone could feel it anyways. As if they could see it in him, festering and hiding underneath a polite atmosphere.
So at the age of 14, they gave up on normalcy. They dressed weird, spoke weird, and did everything… Well, differently than before. And it made them happier. But in a more interesting twist, it changed very little about his actual relationships. It wasn’t like he was close to anyone enough to matter regardless; and masking was arguably more exhausting than just being as weird as he always was.
Gundham knew he was weird. And as long as the people around him left it alone, it was a win-win for everyone.
Until now.
It was worth questioning how 16 students managed to get planted onto an island out of nowhere.
It was also worth questioning how that was meant to be a long term ‘field trip.’ And something about their stuffed animal professor wasn’t providing any comfort for the group.
If Gundham didn’t know any better, they’d say the entire situation was too good to be true.
And it seemed like they weren’t the only one with that sentiment.
“This isn’t… weird to you guys? I mean, the whole plopped onto a random island for two months thing?” A stranger near Tanaka questioned.
The boy had brown hair, spiky hair and an ill fitting dress shirt on. He looked a bit out of sorts, and Gundham had to remind himself that the boy did crash to the ground when the classroom became… an entire island earlier.
Gundham still couldn’t wrap his head around that.
“Yeah, what’s up with that?” A red haired girl groaned in irritation and stomped to the rabbit creature they had just become acquainted with; Usami, she dubbed herself.
“W-well, no need for a fuss!” The creature shook with anxiety. Or whatever anxiety looked like on a stuffed animal.
The overall wearing woman sneered at Usami, not taking her nonsense. She opted to strut off, and it seemed nobody else decided to go with her as she did whatever she was grumbling off to do. Gundham watched the other students, something he found came naturally over time. Observing from a distance and not ruining anything with his stupid comments-
“This isn’t how this was supposed to go, but… if you all refuse to accept your predicament, then I offer you the chance to look around the island and meet your fellow classmates, Introduce yourselves and become close! This loving school trip is all about making connections with your fellow ultimates, after all!”
With that mildly irritating spiel over, Usami rushes off and away from the group of mildly awkward teens.
Gundham can’t decide if he’s thankful for it or not. After all, with Usagi’s departure, they’re left to do one of two things.
Explore the island alone, or
Somehow find a way to get the motivation to bother speaking to anyone.
This entire situation was overwhelming, their head was nearly spinning, and nothing made any goddamn sense.
Everything felt wrong, and his head was hurting, and the stupid heat was making the inner-lining of their leather boots stick to their ankles in a disgustingly sweaty protest. Everything about this situation was unpreferred. With every emotion hitting him at once and the urge to have a non-verbal shutdown, Gundham decided to do what he usually did in a situation like this (or better yet, a situation as similar to a sudden forced field trip in the tropics as possible.)
They walked away.
And with each step, and each little coo of their hamsters Dark Devas of Destruction, something akin to relief toppled on their shoulders. This was always better than a shutdown, Gundham reminded himself, as much as he found his frustration trickle down his spine with every confused step.
They weren’t sure how long they walked for, or how many circles they had stomped around the island, before they managed to find an actual building. In a slight stupor, they opened the door, just to see they were… still outside.
Were these rooms? Mini-houses? Cottages? They weren’t quite sure what title to put on it, but they decided to focus on their surroundings so as to not stress the details.
There was a large pool roughly 30 feet ahead, and an even larger communal building a bit further than that. It appeared to be another building nearby, and Gundham was certain that this was originally some sort of resort before they had arrived. Given the amount of locations and the collection of living quarters, it was definitely a vacation spot at some point. TTo anyone but them. This was more of a nightmare than anything.
‘Tiny, miniature abodes, bedding and living situations unlike anything I would prefer. Certainly something unsuitable for a person the likes of myself.’
Ignoring the immediate disgust for the unfamiliar that they usually sported, Tanaka looked through the small buildings. They seemed to be split by gender… how awful.
Much to Gundha’s dismay, their cottage (Home? Room?) was one of the last on the men’s side. They knew exactly how they would be perceived from the start, but it didn’t irritate them less to see a physical manifestation of that aforementioned perception.
If asked about their gender, Tanaka found it pointless to even entertain the subject. Gender was above them. A true overlord can tower mentally over their peers without the need for it. The idea that gender was crucial to anything in life absolutely baffled them. Pronouns were an endeavor they never bothered to look into because of this, and so on the off-chance someone bothered to ask them of their pronouns, they usually shrugged or went on a tangent about the absolute abhorrence they felt at even being asked such a question that could fit them into some box. Usually the rambling got the point across.
But despite their lack of care for their gender, let alone the labels surrounding it, something about being misgendered made their brow twitch. That made them question if it was even possible to misgender someone who lacks gender in the first place.
And that was another thing that bothered them. The metrics of gender. Was it similar to water, where you can have some but not a full glass? Or was it all or nothing?
‘Such mundane human concepts never cease to exasperate me.’
Instead of dwelling on it further, they decided to open the door to their cottage. A key was placed under the doormat, which they noted to grab later, but for now they focused on seeing just how horrible the damage would be for their new living arrangement.
Much to their surprise, everything was as it would be. That is, if they had creative control over a pathetically small room, this would be it. Satin sheets, black out windows, and curtains made of velvet. A comfortable rocking chair and a bookshelf sat near the corner of the room, with a play area for his hamsters Dark Devas of Destruction. Gundham was seriously considering just calling them hamsters. Would they still love him the same if he bothered less with the theatrical name?
Wandering around brought him to the closet, which was full of, thank god, different clothes. Gundham loved their style, it showed off their godly personality well. But having less constricting clothing was a comfort. Knowing he didn’t have to sleep in leather pants was nice.
There was an assortment of grunge band t-shirts, none of which he knew jack shit about, and a handful of baggy pants, jeans, and maxi skirts. The entire wardrobe being dark in color was especially comforting for them. It’s not like the overlord can’t pull off anything vibrant, because they definitely could , but it’s quite troubling to try to match colors together. Black is more appealing to their eyes. A few hoodies hung at the back of the closet caught his eye, and he pushed the other cloth-ladden hangers to the side to get a glimpse of them. He picked at the sleeve fabric of one with a strange feeling of deja-vu.
This was his hoodie. And if it wasn’t it was a spitting fucking image of it.
That was hopefully a coincidence. It’s just a black hoodie.
Shuddering the prior offputting energy from his back, Gundham strolls into the bathroom.
It was pristine and small, which was actually to their liking. Small bathrooms felt more homely. Large bathrooms felt akin to hotels, and they never understood why.
A moment later, Gundham came to the realization that, hm, the bathroom was very dark. Despite turning on the lights, the shower curtains, towels, washcloths, and other amenities were all black or dark in color.
The entire cottage seemed that way, with most of their homely accessories being much darker than they thought. Maybe the staff were attempting to provide comfort for the students? Considerate of them, but questionable.
If that was true, Gundham wondered why he hadn’t encountered a single staff member other than Usagi (if she even counts. She’s made of felt and stuffing.)
Maybe they had their own space. That was probably it.
All the thinking and skepticism they had been toiling over started wringing a headache into their brain, weaseling a pulsing pain through their temple and behind their eye sockets.
They took that as a sign to peel their scarf off and set it down.
The Devas stayed in the scarf as it was laid on the bed, waiting until they were stationary to begin moving around and discovering their new temporary abode. Gundham almost never took that scarf off, lest it be deeply important.
P.E class, the beach, whatever it was, that scarf stayed where it was. When they were young, their mother knitted it with loving hands during a particularly bad case of the flu. Everything was cold and hot at once, and each attempt at shoving a sensory nightmare of medicine into their mouth resulted in frothy vomiting spells. At her wits end, she had used her angelic hands to wove something just for them; a scarf that she wrapped loosely around their neck before bed.
They rarely took it off after that day if it wasn’t for a wash. If they felt particularly bothered to do so and needed some air around their neck, they’d wrap it around their waist. But that was the closest thing to removal in public.
At home, though, when they definitely needed to splash their face with water and take their stupid sweaty clothes off, it was a decent exception.
Strutting into the bathroom, Tanaka took little notice of the washcloths and towels and chose instead to creak the faucet on and tilt it to the right. Once the water looked like it could be could enough to steel his nerves, they splashed a handful into their face. Turning the faucet off and patting their face dry with their jacket sleeve provided a layer of solace, the air conditioning blaring like white noise as they let the bed dip under their weight. They could swear they heard a voice somewhere, but a quick scan of the room dismissed the idea.
Everything about their predicament was new, and they found themselves almost proud at their ability to maintain control in a moment like this, knowing that they were in a completely different environment, around strangers and no way of turning back.
A completely different environment. Nothing like his home.
Around people he had never met. People susceptible to preconceived notions and judgement.
No way of turning back.
No way of turning back.
Before their mind had caught up to their heart, they crashed into the bed on their back, letting their lungs greedily comfort themselves with as much air as they could muster to feel in control again.
It’s just two months. 50 days is nothing. Nothing will go wrong.
Their body trembled slightly, and it took a surplus of energy to not vomit at the idea that something could, or would inevitably, go wrong. 50 days.
It’s not like they had any family that would worry, not anymore. But maybe somebody else did. Does this count as kidnapping? Clearly not, right? Hope’s Peak wouldn’t just kidnap 16 teenagers. Hopefully.
Surely not.
‘I’m being unreasonable again. Making assumptions and putting myself into a flurry over nothing of issue. Overlord’s don’t behave in such a manner.’
And, similarly to the way he would expel a demon, Gundham sat up abruptly and mentally forced the ideas out of himself. They’re fine. Nothing was wrong, nothing would go wrong, and they needed to be mature about this. Nobody else was crying and panicking over this, hopefully.
With a heave, Gundham sat back up and looked to his Devas. The four displayed little stress compared to him. They had simpler ideas, ones of sniffing the sheets and, most likely, a hunger for pumpkin seeds. He would see if he could get any later.
Animals were so simple, yet so complex. Something in hamsters, for example, didn’t evolve to make them want to question their existence or create taxes and DMV offices. Something in humans did, however, and Gundham always found it perplexing how sentience could come so horribly to the human race. As childish as it was, he found himself imagining what it would be like to be whatever animal he had been studying recently. As of late, he had dreams of being a particularly fat Kiwi bird. An Apteryx, with it’s flightless evolution and heavy bone mass, Gundham was sure he would enjoy being a fat Kiwi bird. Spending his days picking at the dirt and potentially being pet by humans.
‘That’s weird,’ They quickly correct themself. ‘ Stop thinking about being a fat bird.’
A handful of minutes pass accompanied by a stressful session to fix their smudged eyeliner and mascara. Their makeup in their pocket had never failed them before, and finding replacements of certain products in the medicine cabinet of his bathroom was quite a confident booster.
Despite not wanting to, Gundham knew it would be in their best interest to leave and find everyone else. Being introverted to a fault is not how he wants his reputation to plummet. Not that he has one right now anyway, but they don’t want to be that one person that begrudgingly avoids everyone else. That’s less shy and more impolite.
Just as they swung their scarf over the shoulder in preparation for departure, a rapping at the door nearly startled them back into the bed. Somebody was at their door. Did they know they were there? Maybe the person was just trying to test who was around the area.
‘Maybe if I ignore it…’
“HEY! I WAS TOLD TO COME GETCHA, WHEREVER YOU ARE… GOTH… GUY!”
The voice was ear-gratingly loud. Tanaka decides that, for the sake of his eardrums, he’ll listen to the loud man.
How long had they been in their room for that everyone was able to congregate without him?
Pushing their thoughts down, they answered the door, praying they looked as well kept as they did before. A big burly man stood before them, with a truly giant energy to match.
They were definitely going to call the man Giant from now on.
“There ya are! We were a lil’ worried, Usami said to meet at the big park monument and you were a no-show!”
His demeanor is confident, and the smile on his face is so wide it almost dares to be challenged in it’s cheeriness. Gundham finds himself looking over the man’s features with raccoon-ish eyes.
He has a blue aura to him, strong like lightning. Something in his golden eyes radiated an almost comforting strength, less challenging and more inviting. Although his attire was… strange, Gundham found it beneath him to judge another man’s garments. His sweatpants looked comfortable, and his wifebeater was haphazardly tucked into his pants with his track jacket neatly covering the majority of his torso.
He was both put together and a hot mess all at once. As crude as it was, Gundham found it a bit humorous. Childish of an overlord, but he can slip here and there.
Making sure to put on his most intimidating overlord voice, he responded. “Hmph, I heard no such thing. I was too busy caring for my Four Dark Devas of Destruction to hear any word of that mammalia’s utter garbling.”
The man, kindly named ‘Giant’ in Gundham’s eyes now, stared at him for a moment. His expression was clearly perplexed, but it lacked the… vitriol of past peers. He was used to confusion laced with annoyance; this was simply confusion.
A moment after the words left his mouth, the Giant responded. “Are ya saying you were taking care of those lil fluffy dudes in yer scarf so ya didn’t hear anything?”
Gundham opts to nod. It’s better than wasting anymore time with a long winded argument on how no, they are not fluffy dudes, they are evil creatures that will inherit his throne of frozen darkness in the future.
“Well, thas just as fine! We can get going and you can tell me all about your fluffballs! But, just so ya know and don’t get offended later, you’re the only dude I haven’t gotten a name from yet. I’m guessin’ it’s somethin’ awesome, befitting of a real man!”
Gundham shudders at the last statement, wondering if it;’s worth it to even say anything. The Giant didn’t seem like he meant any harm, just the casual jock positivity. And his cottage was on the side with the men.
The thought made him feel a bit of dread once more. He would rather not think about it. Rather than explain any gendered qualms, they decide to handle it in their own fashion.
“My name is beyond the comprehension of low humans and their genders. I am a force to be reckoned with, that of which has not been assigned a sex identifiable to the average muddled human mind. You would spiral at the mere thought of what I could be. Gundham Tanaka, overlord of ice and all tameable beasts. Do not forget it as long as you shall live.”
The calmness in his voice is, hopefully, still able to get their point across. And as they both begin to walk to wherever the Giant had been speaking of, he notices that the man has yet to respond.
Their walk back to the monument feels long, with Nekomaru not speaking at all for a good two minutes. Finally, he snaps and responds back to Gundham’s long gone statement. “ Oh. I get it. Werll, the name’s NEKOMARU NIDAI! I like yer energy! Confident but quiet, you gotta lotta guts, whatever kinda OVERLORD you are!” And with that, their conversation seemingly ends.
This is what troubles Gundham. They definitely don’t understand the social interaction they just took part in, but they assumed it was positive based on Nekomaru’s insanely boisterous laugh. They were more surprised at the blind acceptance from the Giant, who had failed to question a single delusion of his.
Nekomaru Nidai . Gundham decided he liked that name. Not as much as Giant, but it fit.
And each silent step they took became slightly more comfortable. Slightly isn’t a lot for someone who is practically socially constipated, but it was enough to make him not want to run away and hide under a table until everyone forgot they were there in the first place.
He believes that that exchange made them become closer somehow. Maybe.
(I think I have made some connection with Nekomaru?)
[ Nekomaru’s REPORT CARD has been updated! ]
Nekomaru’s HOPE FRAGMENT obtained ! (⅙)
Arriving at the monument, though, made the comfort wither to puny dust. Everyone stared at the pair, with their eyes honing in on Gundham in a manner that made them feel particularly comfortable with deflating to the ground and becoming invisible. They weren’t self conscious by any means, but they also did not know enough about the steps in a social interaction to determine what to do if over 14 people are staring daggers into your soul. Usually, when he was late to class, they skipped it altogether to avoid the hassle of explaining their tardiness or, even worse, having to get stared at by 30 people who had all witnessed them walk into class 45 minutes later than they shouldn’t have.
Opting to look at the so interestingly ground-covered ground helped to make the sting less painful when everyone finally focused back on each other and Usami.
“Tanaka-kun, you’re late! Make sure to not be tardy in the future.” Usami reprimanded. For some odd reason ,it brought a deep seated anger in them that they couldn’t describe.
You’re not my professor. You’re a damn rabbit.
He rolled his eyes in response. That over yelling at the creature would work best to get them away from everyone again as quickly as possible.
“Like I told you all, I have put together a light schedule! There is an alarm that will play on your cottage television screens at 10pm and 7am for wake up and resting times! You each should have a tablet in your homes with the rules of the field trip! Make sure to not litter or hurt your fellow classmates or teacher especially! Following every rules leads to peace in our class!”
Gundham began to, truthfully, zone out of focus once she started speaking. He knew she was saying something, but everytime he honed in on her voice, it came back muffled in his mind, similarly to his surroundings. Instead, his mind thought to the clumsy nature of Kiwi birds again. He had recently visited a flock of them, and they’re heavier than they look. They did remind the mof kiwi fruit, however, with their coarse and fluffy hair. If a kiwi fruit became a bird, it would definitely look like the Apteryx.
Their mind started to blur again. This was hard to pay attention to, and her voice was grating his ears like a fucking pummice stone-
“Tut tut tut!”
Another voice was heard, and then another stuffed animal came, and it said… something. Gundham wasn’t paying any attention, and their mind only caught up to the situation when everyone started spewing panickedly about their current situation. His eyes widened and he looked around, locking eyes with the Giant (Nekomaru) for any sort of indication as to what was happening.
Nekomaru seemed to slightly panic back, and now Gundham knew they had fucked themself by zoning out and thinking about Kiwi birds again. They’re just really interesting. Like penguins, or the concept of a fifty foot bluetooth connection.
A silver haired girl said something about refusing to kill anyone, and the short fat oaf started whining, as he usually did, about how whatever was going on couldn’t be happening.
Then, for some odd reason, the little child-like boy with blonde hair said he had no problem killing anyone, which definitely included Gundham because he was a part of the anyone group that was present. Before he could even bother to question it, two girls found themselves arguing with him, and Gundham could feel his migraine slinking back into his brain.
All at once, Nekomaru began holding back a brown haired woman who for the love of god needs to wear a shirt in her size from fighting the blonde boy and he can swear he watches a taller man almost burst a blood vessel in his efforts to shut everyone up.
The man is stocky, but also tall. His clothes also look close to bursting off of him, and Gundham is becoming increasingly troubled at the lack of properly tailored clothing that his classmates wear. The man manages to gain control over the crowd, speaking in an assertive tone.
“I dub myself the leader of this group as clearly none of you have a handle enough on your emotions to control your outbursts for one second .” His voice is almost scarily threatening, but his appearance can’t back it up.
The blonde short man, who has been talking entirely too much for Gundham’s liking at this point, interjects with an argument of his own.
“Who the fuck said your the leader of us? I don’t submit to anyone! And I’m sure as hell dying before I listen to some fat fuck like you!”
Ouch, Gundham thinks. That’s unnecessary.
“Oh? Do you have a better idea? Would you rather listen to this animal and die for your arrogance? Or do any of you have any better idea? Because if anyone is more willing and ready to lead this class, step forward.”
Nobody does.
It’s silent, and it’s almost like everyone is waiting for someone else to try. The larger man definitely was, at the very least.
Gundham doesn’t see himself as a follower, but he also doesn’t see himself as somebody willing to lead a bunch of teenagers. He also, if it matters, has no fucking clue what is fully happening.
What he does know, though, is that there probably isn’t a need for a leader in the first place. So they run with that. Maybe it’ll get them more information anyways.
“I do not see the purpose in having any one person lead a group of 15 peers… putting yourself in a leader position is valiant, but needless.” he starts speaking from the silence, and they can almost feel their head pound harder when everyone’s eyes flicker to him. Waiting for him to continue. Scrutinizing, in a way.
“Just because we do not have other solutions at the moment, does not mean that there is only one solution. Your proposition… feeds off of a false dilemma fallacy.”
1, 2 ,3, and for good measure, 4. Looking around might be a good idea now.
Considering their eyes were trained to the dirt for ten minutes, Gundham is surprised they even decided to speak. They were zoned out five minutes ago, and now they want to be front in center on a debate they know nothing about. It’s almost ironic.
The larger blonde man glares down at Gundham. Gundham glares back, with a purposefully less aggressive stare. The man huffs and shakes his head. Like a disapproving father. Ick.
“If that is what you think, then you may be misguided in your delusions. Leadership is crucial in moments like these, and the earlier chaos is a perfect example of such. When you come back to reality like the rest of us, let us know so we can proceed with our conversation. I won’t wait for you .”
The man's words almost feel insulting. No, they definitely feel insulting. Gundham takes it upon himself to roll his eyes. “Maybe you should reconsider your desperation to have others follow your beck and call.”
Well if the attention wasn’t on him before, it definitely was now. Having a bunch of strangers stare into his very soul over a stupid half-minded comment.
A scene girl with several piercings finds her way into the conversation before the large man can speak again. “Hey, now! Now need for fighting… Ibuki is sure that we are all leaders! Right, guys?”
…It was a step in the right direction. Everyone looked wearily between the two, then between each other.
This is stupid as hell.
Gundham shrugs, deciding that they couldn’t care less about this discussion any longer. Deeming the entire event useless save for the confusion and the migraine, he turns to Nekomaru and wordlessly ushers him out of the park.
“Explain to me what the other stuffed creature is and what it relayed to us.”
Nekomaru tilts his head, like a dog, almost, and looks around behind them both to the entrance of the park. Gundham faintly sees a pair of eyes looking at them in his peripheral vision. They find it useless. Nekomaru was the closest to him, so he would be the victim of their incessant questioning.
“You were there, ya know. Just now.”
Gundham groans. “Yes, you oaf, I was standing right there. I would like you to explain it to me regardless.”
Nekomaru puts his hands up defensively. “No need to turn your rage on me ove Byakuya making himself the overseer or somethin’!”
So Byakuya was the name of the fat arrogant one. Then who was the small arrogant one?..
“I am not upset. Waste my time further with your newfound discoveries or just answer my question. I would prefer the second option to the first.”
Nekomaru rolls his eyes. “Yeah yeah.” He points to the monument, which had apparently changed to showcase a small timer at the bottom of it. “That bear guy, Monokuma, said we had to kill each other or something! Said it was now a killing school trip and changed the rules and everything. Now he said we gotta murder each other or he’ll like, punish everybody or somethin’ like that.”
Gundham scoffed. This was a fever dream and they were quickly getting more irritated by every wild occurrence by the minute. “Nobody would do such a thing. YOu would all have half a mind to listen to one stuffed animal, let alone two.”
The Giant seems to agree nodding his head along. “Tha’s what I thought, till Fuyuhiko started spewing about killing everybody. This is goin’ to shit. Not the good kind either.”
‘What the fuck is the good kind?’
Tanaka looks to the side awkwardly. Whatever he was saying made enough sense, he didn’t need to add some commode related language. At least now he knew Fuyuhiko was the short dragon-like blonde.
He shall dub him The Short Dragon. More creative names will come later, hopefully.
With his mind statiated, Gundham turned tail and immediately slinked back to his cottage, not wanting to even bother with the conversation any longer. With his battery on E, they rarely had time to contemplate on the fact that walking away from someone mid-conversation is certainly not acceptable in most interactions.
Nekomaru said something, possibly a farewell. Or asking him to come back. Gundham’s head was splitting, and the exhaustion they felt at every weird thing happening was too heavy to abide by any social law.
Truthfully, they could feel themselves about to spiral into some sort of anxiety attack, but they were genuinely too confused to bother plummeting into it.
They spawn into a classroom at Hope’s Peak that then turns into an island that turns into some sort of school field trip that nobody was informed of until just then for the sole purpose of becoming friends with reach other. The island has full accommodations and no staff in sight, the teacher is a fucking stuffed animal magical girl, and the students are all just as confused as they are.
Then after one hour of peace the island is actually the super-bad-evil-island, or some bullshit like that, and another stupid stuffed animal (Hope’s Peak must love these things) bitches Usami out and turns her into a diaper-covered freak of nature and demands that everybody start killing each other or else.
Gundham closes the door to the cottage behind him. Nope, still doesn't make any sense. Maybe he’s dreaming?
The overlord pinches his bandaged hand to test the concept out. He is very awake.That’s… a revelation. Ignoring the several aching questions they have in their mind, their first step is focused on pain reduction for their gnarly migraine.A shutdown is afoot if they don’t manage to get their bearings.
He slips into the most random and comfortable thing in his closet, slipping into some random loose tshirt and splashing their makeup off with even less poise than before. Skimming through the books on their shelf, they manage to find some random notebook. It… is definitely not a published title.
“How to Get Away With Murder - Mono Kuma (#1 Bestseller in Prisons!)”
Gundham ponders if they should even entertain that and, naturally, their migraine worsens at the sheer stupidity of it all. They are being fucked with in real time.
They feel so out of the loop in an event that they are actively experiencing. Of course, that could be said for his entire life, because autism spectrum disorder doesn’t like to play fair or hold your hand by any means, but it doesn’t help in a predicament where his life is kind-of, sort-of, possibly (??? We’ll find out soon enough) on the line here.
His lack of social skills and the migraine threatening to push his amygdala out of his skull like a baby in induced labor is not helping him stay any more informed on what is going on. And yes, he has questions and yes, he really wants someone to just fucking tell him why there are two stuffed animals claiming to be their headmaster’s and god please yes, can somebody just make sense for the first time since he’s gotten here?
Gundham realizes that his headache isn’t any better and that the book in his hand is so pointlessly still in his grasp for some reason and, out of frustration, throws the book at the rocking chair in the corner and plops front first into the mattress in front of them. Something about the satin sheets and their Devas squeaking around on the nightstand keeps them awake enough to not lose their mind.
This is entirely too much. Even overlord’s have their limits…
The fabric of their scarf is grabbed from the edge of the bed and brought with them under the covers. Who needs to eat when you have a suicide inducing headache and a fever dream field trip to worry about? He can feel his eyes start to flutter shut despite every thought in their head telling them that they should logically be awake.
But the covers are perfectly weighted, and the satin is good quality, and it’s almost like there’s a noise trying to walk him hand-in-hand into a nap that could potentially cure every migraine he was going to have for the next 20 years.
That noise being yet another person at his door. This time, he absently hums from his bed, hoping the assassin of his peace can take a hint and, respectfully, leave him alone.
When that just isn’t enough for the person at the door, they slip from off the bed and slowly, slightly creak the door open just enough for an eye to peek through.
The woman at the door is the same red head from early, the one that fought the Short Dragon and stomped away from Usami. She taps her foot impatiently at the doors, hands on her hips.
She has freckles that dust over her nose and the most intolerant of expressions on her face.
“Byakuya said we should meet up at the hotel and discuss what to do over dinner. That means we as in all of us. As a man you should know that punctuality is important. You’re meant to help protect others, you know! Not hide like a coward!”
Gundham immediately regrets opening the door. Without thinking, his mouth opens before his brain can put on the character persona for it. The migraine he’s sporting is clearly not helping in the decision making process. “I’m not a man.”
The redhead raises a brow at that. “Are you one of those self deprecating men that says they’re a boy so they don’t feel bad about not acting their age?”
“No.”
She tilts her head. “If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be on the side with the men. So either someone got it really wrong or, by the looks of it, you’re just a guy that can’t take accountability.”
His head is starting to hurt more, and the regret comes in waves so strong he considers slamming the door into her nose. No. That’s definitely not deserved.
“My identity has been compromised by the foul subhumans who puppeteered this event.” Perfect. That’s more like them. “My identity is beyond their comprehension. They put me with whatever side best convenienced them. It was simply a numbers game.”
‘My gender was based on whichever choice created an even number of cabins on both sides.’
She seemed to understand… something. Instead of protesting, she lightly rolled her eyes and turned around. “Whatever you say. Doesn’t mean you’re above coming to eat with everyone.”
“I am not in the mood to do so, red haired one. My appearance has been compromised as well… in a valiant battle.” Gundham can jest. Although it is more of a joke to them then to others, who can’t comprehend how their jokes are actually jokes. Again, doesn’t mean they can’t.
The freckled girl laughs at this, and it seems to be genuine. Shocker. “Wow, seems like everything of yours is compromised. And my name isn’t red-haired one , it’s Mahiru. Mahiru Koizumi. Nekomaru told me your name. Gundham, right? Look, if it makes it easier Gundham, I’ll just relay whatever information they give out so you can stop being tortured by these foul subhumans. ”
Gundham, out of a genuine surprise that anyone would consider doing such a thing on their behalf, sputters slightly. “I… Uhm. Yes, thank you.”
They want to face palm. The red-haired… Mahiru nods and waves, walking away without a word of protest.
( That seemed like an almost productive conversation with mahiru. Even if it was just to avoid conversing more. That was… nice of her.)
[ Mahiru’s REPORT CARD has been updated! ]
Mahiru’s HOPE FRAGMENT obtained ! (⅙)
Gundham shuts the door behind him and looks to his Devas, sleeping in the scarf he was just attempting to lay beside. He almost gets cuteness aggression. Almost. Snuggling into bed and looking at the Devas comforts him again, easing that pressure on his cranium. They definitely should focus on sleeping their migraine off. Maybe they’ll show up for a dramatic entrance later, when they don’t feel like a bus crashed into their hippocampus at full speed.
That sounds more like them. They’ll get back to their usual behavior when they aren’t feeling so weird.
Surely that’s the case.