smash_logs | open sore

Entry tags:

open sore

Who: Ishida and Mondo.
What: A confrontation between MEEEEEEEEEEEE and Mondo.
Where: Courtyard
When: February 20th
Warnings: Violence! Constant barrages of expletives! Insurmountable manly spirit!

In many ways, Mondo's life had gone a bit topsy-turvy. You could say it had been that way from the beginning, but as far as his personal relationships went, it took a sudden shift.

It must have happened around the start of the new year. Late December and he was running into Kiyotaka and Aoi kissing deeply on their bed. Questions sprouted in his head about the nature of their relationship and even Kiyotaka's true character, which he'd come to understand as grounded so firmly in his outdated morals that he would probably turn the color of his favorite uniform if he so much as touched a girl's hand. He confronted him on the matter and figured out what was really up, literally up- mistletoe. They exchanged some blows, some arguments, and in the end it got heated up in a different sort of way.

Even though he claimed they weren't dating, weren't having sex... it turned out they hooked up in only a matter of a week or so. That lead him to believe something had been going on between them after all, which made him feel bitter. Like he really WAS out of the loop with his brother's life, or like there really was something he didn't understand about him that would make him take that decision. Like he didn't know where he stood anymore. It wasn't as though he couldn't be happy for him if it was something he wanted, but hell, he was jealous. Pretty sure he was jealous for Kiyotaka getting a girlfriend before he did, but even that assessment was muddled with hidden layers of unacknowledged doubt that it wasn't the only reason he was jealous. Butthurt. He was SO. BUTTHURT. He felt alienated by their newfound rift. But he was able to at least reach out to him beyond his unexpressed hurt feelings, and he even supported his cause for the rebellion against the teachers and their abuse of power. Of course, those clips WERE pretty disturbing, and he hated them just as much as any Hope's Peak student.

Their relationship wasn't especially strained until Valentine's Day. He had no idea what had gotten into him, but in a matter of moments he was imbued with an overwhelming, squelching sort of love for Aoi. It was so powerful that he couldn't steer himself away from expressing it, and then Kiyotaka... or, 'me' dove in on the scene. Something about him was starkly different. He'd changed. What kind of an act WAS that, and WHY was he keeping it up? Even though Mondo knew with heavy shame that he broke brotocol by getting close to Kiyotaka's girlfriend selfishly, his guilt over his lack of self-control leading to a complete breach of honor was muffled some by his perplexing symptoms. He hadn't even come back to their dorm since! Where the fuck did he go? What was he doing all day, running loose like that? He couldn't help but be a little worried about his mental health. At times, he'd wandered out to go on 'me' expedition just to try and talk some extra sense into him- beat it into him if he had to, but his wanderings turned up fruitless.

It had been nearly a week since then, and it was as though Kiyotaka had vanished into mist. He was always on his mind. Out in the courtyard where he stood he thought about the inexplicable fire he saw in his eyes as he watched the smoke from his cigarette curl into the frost-tipped boughs of a skeletal tree, only to merge with the color of the clouds above.

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Valentine's Day and a short period of time surrounding it was a complete mess as far as emotional stability went. Fresh from denouncing his former self, that failure of a prefect who was not even that anymore, Ishida put every ounce of his newfound energy into proving that he had been reborn, and it involved a conscious effort to do all the things shit like 'morals' or 'responsibilities' once kept from even crossing hiis mind. Mostly, it involved a lot of setting metaphorical bridges aflame and forcing laughter as they burned all around him. Hell, there was a big one already halfway demolished before he even got there!

It was the one he'd wanted to preserve. Go figure.

In retrospect, maybe it wasn't a big surprise that Aoi would need to find comfort in someone else after he'd been such an ass and threw her heartfelt gift on the ground. But with Mondo of all people? Mondo, who knew perfectly well about their relationship, willingly taking part in sabotaging it?

It hurt. Being betrayed by two people he loved at once like that cut deep, and unable to deal with it, he made an effort to avoid them both. Ishida was nothing if not a master at rejecting reality and twisting it into whatever he needed it to be, and soon he convinced himself that the tightness in his chest was just a burning hatred. Why would he be sad when it wasn't like he gave a rat's ass about either of them? He hadn't been spending days avoiding them, he just had no time to waste on traitors like that. Who even cared? Not him! Even the alias Ishida felt tainted now, but he lacked the creativity to come up with anything better, so it stuck.

Even when he settled down from his explosive outburst of trying to redefine himself, the intensity of what he claimed to be hatred never died down. By the time he saw Mondo again on his way between buildings, he was more than ready for an outlet.

He had to make a conscious effort to correct himself when his first thoughts were of how unhealthy and in violation of the rules that cigarette was. Things only the old Kiyotaka would have cared about. So it was definitely not concern for either of those things or a painful need for his brother's attention that spurred him to call him out.

"That shit stinks, put it out!"

It was as though the voice itself was jerking his head over to shoot the owner an indignant look. He could tell who it was before he caught sight. The only way he would have obeyed his command to put it out is if the paper snapped between his fingers. He hadn't been anticipating the embodiment of his problem to show up here, but he was glad he had. It gave him something tangible to deal with. The relief contrasted sharply with the rising resentment in his chest.

"Your act stinks even more," he goaded with a smug grin picking at the stolid line of what his mouth had been.

He didn't expect cooperation. That was fine. Maybe he'd much rather beat some common sense into him instead. He clenched his fists at his sides, sneering with contempt.

"Who's acting? The only phony I see around here is you... Pretending to be someone's friend, pretending to be strong... You're pathetic!!"

Two halves of the cigarette hit the ground. Oowada swerved to face him fully with teeth flashing.

"So what'd you come here for, aah? To be smashed to fucking bits?!" He advanced slowly, his own fists tightening, posture heightening. "Keep spewing shit about me and I'll kindly oblige, you freaky bastard!"

He was on fire with how livid Ishida made him in only a matter of words. Perhaps he was made only angrier because of how cuttingly true they were. They hurt like glass plunged into his heart. He had no right to defend his character because he WAS a shitty friend, and he DID have his sense of "strength" stacked up all wrong. But to sit back and take the abuse was just not in his nature. And he hated whatever the hell Kiyotaka had become, wanted to plunge it out of existence.

God, he was so predictable. Satisfaction and disappointment both were at odds in him as he watched Mondo's approach, each contributing to a myriiad of emotions screaming in his head. Fear. Anger. Resentment. The panic of knowing something was horribly wrong and he could only watch; the thrill of pushing things along at full speed. He ignored the despair clawing at the pit of his stomach and took a step forward to meet Mondo partway.

"What, you gonna kill me too? Prove you have no self control?!" His breath hitched slightly before he dropped his voice, staring into Mondo's eyes like he was trying to challenge a dog.

"You really are weak."

Normally, that would be enough to push him over the edge and into swinging a limb or two. Oh, how he wanted to clobber him with all he had. But he did, in fact, have some self-restraint, especially when it was shoved into question. The murder in his eyes did not disappear.

They were just a foot less or more away. He knew his opponent would never back down, especially not when he had enough of an intensity about him to put the sun to shame. "If I'm so weak, then why the hell are you dogging me like you wanna fight? Wouldn't it be pathetic?" He craned in even closer. "Wouldn't you wanna pick on someone your own size? Or are you just pleading for me to beat some sense into you?"

So even that didn't goad him into landing the first hit. Ishida was actually a little surprised, though he didn't expect it would be much longer before it came to blows one way or another. At least this gave him the chance to unbutton his shirt, since he knew it was likely to restrict movement or just rip entirely in any kind of struggle. He wanted to go all out. But more than that, he wanted to destroy Mondo emotionally first. Why shouldn't he share his pain with his dear brother? Pay him back for all the same he'd done for him? The two were inextricably linked one way or another, so if Ishida was going to crash and burn like Hajime insisted he would, there was nobody more fitting to drag down with him.

"Because only the strong survive, and I outlasted you!! There's nobody who deserves the fury off my fists half as much as you do!" He could feel his throat constricting around his words as though trying to keep them from forming. "I ha-hate you."

For the briefest of moments, all his rage and sorrow melted away, leaving behind nothing at all. Then a new wave of anger crashed over him like never before sweeping him away. "You're no brother of mine, so suffer!"

He did it. He swung first, not caring where he hit, as long as he could make it hurt.

Edited 2014-03-01 11:10 (UTC)

Perhaps he had been so wounded and stunned by the hatred spewing from the bottom of his heart that his reaction time delayed. Suitably enough, Ishida's fist landed straight into his chest where it hurt most figuratively. He was only able to grab hold of his forearm with both hands just enough to soften the blow, but not enough to prevent it from being wildly painful. He reset his sights back on the inflamed prefect with one twitching eye.

There was a lot about this sudden transformation Mondo didn't understand. The only course of action he could take with him was to fight back. So much for not fighting on school grounds outside the stadium... Maybe that was only a stronger testament to how far gone his brother was. Weakened by the impact of the last blow, he gripped onto his arm tighter for more balance and kicked his foot out to meet his abs with less power than he ordinarily could have dished.

Only a few short months passed since their little quarrel in the dorms. Kiyotaka hadn't been afraid to hit back that time, just to prove he could dish it out as well as take it, but Ishida was a whole different beast. And he was like a wild animal, all snarls and growls and bared teeth, all the negativity that had been building up inside until his heart threatened to burst rushing forth from this outlet that had finally been provided. He was blind even to the pain of the foot to his stomach, consumed entirely by his selfish and cowardly need to turn every last shred of the deep love he held for Mondo into the strongest hatred instead.

He staggered forward, just barely managing not to be thrown entirely off balance by the kick, and countered with a roundhouse of his own.

Edited 2014-03-03 03:51 (UTC)

No one wants to be hit with those boots. The heel skirted through his hair as he ducked, a surge of adrenaline at nearly being clobbered across the head. Great, it was mussed up now. His lowered vantage point offered an opportunity and he dove for his leg to clinch him by the thigh before he could regain footing, lifted him up as he rose to full height and fell backwards, flipping him over and driving him down to the concrete, landing on top of his feisty opponent. He was quick to get off and stomp on his shoulder blades, pound him into the ground for an extra measure.

"So where's your fists of fury?" he snarled.

That one hurt. A broken cry was ripped from his chest as Mondo's foot slammed his back, winding him. It didn't matter how tough he acted, Ishida had exactly as much experience with street fighting as Kiyotaka did, which was to say none at all. He couldn't even articulate a nice comeback. The pain and embarrassment only spurred him on, and he rolled over to violently kick at Mondo's ankles to knock his stupid feet out from under him.

Edited 2014-03-04 13:56 (UTC)

It was easy enough to simply jump over it like he were playing hopscotch. He pounced and landed his feet between Ishida's sprawled out form, bent down and grasped him by the collar to lift him up until they were at eye level. He remained crouched over him.

God, he looked like he was possessed by a spirit of sheer fury. It made him look starkly different from the Kiyotaka he once knew. Like his essence was no longer the same. Like... the whole change was his fault? A true expression of how he really felt about him? Mondo's feelings were an indescribable mess of anger and sadness, confusion and guilt. There wasn't anything he could say about his current state that he hadn't demanded to know already, about what he had become and why it happened. He could understand his boiling resentment for advancing on Aoi like that, taking advantage of his cruelty toward her and how wrong it was of him to do so. Not even he understood his own motivations or where they came from, which seemed like out of nowhere, but more than his guilt for pulling such crap arose the strong desire for this version of his brother to disappear in vain hopes that things would go back to the way they were. Knowledge of their severed bond only served to intensify his agonized feelings. Though he knew they were all a fault of his own character...

He struck him across the face with his fist, sending all those feelings through the motions. He just wanted him to go away.

Baffling enough, he grinned widely through the hit, even as his lip split and bled against his teeth. The force behind Mondo's blows said everything it needed to about how willing he was to hurt him, didn't it? That pain only steeled his resolve and made it all the easier for Ishida to fuel his own hatred and tear away any reservations about hurting back.

"You bastard," he rasped, his hands flying up to grab haphazardly at Mondo's face and neck, clawing at wherever they could,, digging in and squeezing and pulling at flesh and hair, like his urge to tear him apart was speaking more than just metaphorically.

It hurt like madness splintering across his face, all the raking and stinging sensations threatening to put an eye out. He let go of him in favor of grabbing at his wrists to tear them away from wreaking pain. In the struggle, he fell backwards onto his ass, barking, "What the hell are you, some kind of animal?!"

He fell half on top of him, jerking his arms to try to wrest his wrists free. It didn't sound half bad, just forfeiting his humanity entirely. He already felt wild as it was, why not just take it a step further?

(It sounded wrong, everything about this was so wrong.)

"What about you?" he snarled, leaning in closer. "You're no better than a dog, are you?! No, worse, they're loyal!"

Edited 2014-03-07 07:53 (UTC)

Mondo could not come up with some smack talk to serve back at him He was so overcome by the rage and anguish of it all that he unleashed an untamed roar instead, spread his arms apart with the surge of strength powered by his inflamed emotions and using the knee tucked beneath Ishida's body flipped them both over so he was on top. The knee was now driving hard into his gut. He released his wrists and went straight to beating his face in, pounding into it like a hammer, swinging into it like a club, hoping with every strike he could set things right but knowing full well the exact opposite would happen. It sure felt good, though.

"Try saying that again with my fist jammed in your mouth!!" he cried with an obvious pain strangling the back of his throat. "I fucking dare you!"

A gutteral sound tore from his throat, as his mouth tried to form the words out of sheer defiance, but the swelling and excruciating pain veering into numbness made it impossible to do much more than that. He spat blood at Mondo's face between punches instead. His head was swimming and he was seeing red... whether it was blood in his eye or just his fury didn't even matter to him. The pain was enough to tap into his drive to survive, and a quick burst of desperation surged through him, granting him something of a second wind.

His hands were free, and they slammed right into Mondo's shoulder, working in tandem with his most usable leg to roll him off. Too bad fight was still winning out over flight, because for once? Escape was not what Ishida was after when it would have been the wisest thing to do.

Edited 2014-03-08 15:10 (UTC)

The longer he slung blows against his face the less force moved behind them. Less feeling. The enraged passion had fizzled down into nothing but petty frustrations. There was no righteousness in it. Each blow carried some satisfaction that sedated his frazzled nerves but the cure became less and less effective. No matter how much he hit him, Ishida never went away, and neither did his clashing emotions. It began to feel like a projection. Beyond simply fighting back, was he displacing his self-loathing onto him?

This dwindling vigor allowed him to be thwarted easily. He tumbled over onto his back but was quick to spring up to his feet, never removing his eyes from his adversary. He wanted to give him some chance to get the ringing out of his skull, to strike back, to really stir up a fight.

"You got something to prove to me, don't you? Where is it?"

His entire skull throbbed in agony, his senses overpowered by the smell and taste of his own blood. For a second he was back in Hope's Peak, the concrete beneath his body no different from the cold hard ground of the physics lab, and the resulting panic was enough to urge him to his feet just to prove to himself he was still alive.

"Haaaaaaa..." The noise felt like claws raking at the back of his throat as he stared Mondo down. This was familiar too, staring down a delinquent he hated, blood rushing from the thrill of a fight. Not the memories of Hope's Peak that resounded most loudly in his mind, but a small, distorted, barely-lingering echo that was all but drowned out by the song of despair.

It was enough.

His weight shifted, and with it his demeanour changed into something slightly less like a rabid senseless beast, but still wild and dangerous.

"Wh-why... Why don't you come and find out?"

Maybe he'd find out for himself if there even was anything to prove.

Edited 2014-03-09 15:35 (UTC)

Mondo sneered. A bitter laugh followed. "Of course you got something to prove. You're the good guy, right? I'm the bad guy who betrayed you. I should be punished. I never did get what I fucking deserved, did I? Turned my back on you more than once. For weak reasons. For selfish reasons!" He advanced forward deliberately, got close but never raised a limb to attack. "Doesn't it piss you off? That the one person you decided to put your trust in most keeps fucking you over time and time again? Hurting you? Where does it end!"

At this turn of words, the stability of his voice began to break down and so did his control over his own facial features. He grabbed his chin with an iron grip and forced it to tilt up to his level. "I saw the look on your face! The one you made after I died! I saw it on the screen! I did that to you! I did...!"

Each word struck him harder than Mondo's fists ever had, tearing open old wounds in his heart without mercy. His eyes widened in horror as the biker went on, brimming with hot tears.

"S-stop," came a strained whisper, and he hated how weak he sounded. How weak he felt. He started out wanting to work off his aggression on the thing that was pissing him off most but now all he wanted was for Mondo to go away, for the past to go away, for himself to blink out of existence if it meant he didn't have to remember any of it. His defensive stance faltered. Then, more loudly: "Shut up, shut up, shut up! You don't know a fucking thing about... after... y-you...!! Shit!"

"What's the matter? Am I hurting you again?" Using the arm that had his chin fastened to his fingers he threw him backwards hard.

It was all he could do to keep from losing his balance as he stumbled back, boots skidding on a patch of unmelted ice. His breaths came short and erratic for a few seconds, still completely overwhelmed by painful memories Mondo threw right in his face, his blood-clogged nostrils not making things any easier.

"Y-you think I... I even care?! Aa?! You're nothing to me! Nothing!" He took a deep breath, calming his nerves a little. "Come on, hit me again, you'll see! You can't fucking hurt meeeee!"

"We'll see about that!" He charged, flinging his hands out to grapple with him. He used the momentum of his charge to slam his spine into the street lamp close by.

He hit the lamp post with a grunt, but kept a firm hold on Mondo's hands. As long as he was pushing forward, it meant he could take a step aside and also make use of that momentum to throw him onto the ground. See how he liked it, fucker.

The concrete was like an opponent all its own crashing into his backside and splitting through his skull. Starstruck, the only recovery he could make was to lift his upper body away from the ground and anticipate whatever was thrown at him next.

But was he anticipating the toe of a big old boot going for his stomach? Ishida wasted no time in rounding on him, despite the utter agony his own body was in.

He tried to roll out of the way but it stuck him like a crashing stalactite. A scream meant to be restricted to his throat broke out. Simple things like knowing how to breathe and where to focus his eyes were lost on him as he jolted wide-eyed and lay there cringing with his organs feeling like tenderized meat. It was all he could do not to puke.

(deleted comment)

butter sorry

God, he hated that noise. It should have been satisfying to hear Mondo scream like that, but it just felt like a weight had slammed into his chest, threatening to crack his ribs and crush his heart. One way or another, this had to end. He snarled and drove his foot into Mondo's side once more before he turned away, running his tongue over swollen, bloodied lips.

"Disgusting," he spat, and began his retreat. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to lie somewhere alone and utter his own cries of pain, but he wouldn't do that until he was well out of Mondo's earshot.

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