[Why did you have to turn this around on him. He can't talk about himself, he can't. He can't be honest. It's the one thing he has never fucking figured out how to do. It eats away at him, the way Karamatsu pretends when he's just fine on his own. He pretends because he's a gross, ugly, hateful person who is too insecure to hold a proper conversation without eventually trying to anxiously shit on something. Karamatsu just... Does it to receive different attention. More attention. Attention at all, Ichimatsu realizes.]

[Attention, which Ichimatsu doesn't ask for and yet always receives. And thrives off of. He couldn't give it up if he wanted to, he'd drown in his own head without someone to pull him out of it. He's pathetic. So he pretends to be less so, because he can't stand being so weak and incapable.]

[His stomach turns, and he wants more than anything to walk away from this conversation and possibly choke himself on his own fingers until he spills the contents of his vile stomach onto his shoes, because even that wouldn't make him as obviously gross as he really is. As he feels. But he can't, because he walked into this, and Karamatsu is trying to rile him. Karamatsu wants him to continue this. It's like a dare, and as much as he'd love to tuck his tail between his legs and retreat, he can't turn away from a challenge from one of his brothers. He can't seem that weak.]

I'm pretending?

[He spits the question, his voice cracking with overuse and strain.]

At least I don't have any misconceptions about what I am. I'm garbage, Karamatsu, we all are. "Kind spirit" my ass. I've shit on you for years upon years, and I bet you don't even have the slightest of an idea as to why.

[No, fuck, wait. This wasn't where he wanted this to go.]