whyyyy

Saburo's hand held onto the doorknob firmly, though he wasn't the being holding it. He sighed to cover a quickening in his breath. This was not an unexpected incident, but now that he was here, there wasn't much he could do for himself. So, if he didn't have the ability to act, he would just have to do what he could to keep the demon in a similar position, even if it was nothing more than stalling.

“Wait.” He requested politely. It did, because it was really more knowledgeable about this situation than Saburo, and it was more than confident that it was in power here. It only had direct control over the boy's body, but it would obtain more promptly enough; it mostly wanted the boy to keep independent awareness long enough for him to see the life ripped from his friends, as the blunt course of its own thoughts put it. It wasn't as if it was a complex issue, it merely had to catch the Keronians for the necessary amount of time to seal them in its gaze, and through the boy's eyes, they would be ended. Whether or not he was privileged with outliving them for awhile would depend on his mood, but it imagined that it would be feeling well enough to provide the boy with some extra torment.

“What?” It responded, the tone of a patient parent to a young child, perhaps a child on the way to get a shot it didn't want, but of course they would have no choice but to take the needle.

“Tell me, what do you want? Or, I guess I know, but it's revenge, right?” Saburo inquired, though he seemed at a distance from his words, perhaps more focused on how he would address the implications of the answer, rather than listening for what answer he would actually be given. The demon entertained this, gently impressing its impatience on the boy with a twist of the door handle. He shifted at the quiet click, a more striking noise than any gunshot, and more dangerous, given the situation. Still, if he had time, he was hardly in a position to not use it. It was not as if this issue called for a great deal of debate, there was simply one important detail that he had to act within. He could not do anything for himself. However, there were other people, two in particular, that he placed more concern on, and he believed he might be able to do something for them, if he would yield a little. Stubbornness would allow him to fight, but brute force had never been something he regarded highly, and any fighting on his part would be counterproductive, based off what he had decided. He smiled contentedly, and the demon made his declaration smoothly, almost more in answer to that expression than to the question.

“I do want revenge. That's only natural, after being so dreadfully wronged.” Its own smile grew viciously wide, as the predator granted its prey a glimpse of the rage he faced. “I want revenge against you, really.”

“Okay. Then take it.” Saburo shrugged, he might have just as easily been agreeing to let someone borrow a book. However, he was fully certain of the fact that anything he lent to this demon would be returned in torn bits, if he was ever able to recover it at all. He swallowed before pressing on. “You can do whatever you want, and I won't try to stop you.”

He didn't complete the bargain verbally, because it wasn't needed. If the demon accepted, then he would play as its scratching post for however long it wanted, and it would not have attention free to focus on Kururu or Pirarah. That was fine, in Saburo's opinion. This was something he could do, and merely having that ability in his possession, having any ability, meant that he should use it. The demon cackled, a noise that hardly seemed to be made of sound, it was pure menace and malice. This was a fresher challenge, it presented the opportunity to break Saburo on its own, and ultimately, that was what it wanted to do. He didn't know how much he would have to rend and cut the boy's spirit for him to regret asking for this, but the attempt became more appealing the more it was considered, the thought of that casual tone sobbing and begging and pleading and desperately crying could not be called musical, it was far grander than any song could be.

“That sounds good. We'll see if you understand as much about this as you apparently think, hmm?” His body released the doorknob, and in Saburo's mind, the demon grabbed his hand instead, shaking it. “I believe this is a deal.”

It twisted the thing in its grip once again, and the snap of his wrist resonated in his ears, ringing in them long after it had faded. He gasped faintly, regarding the demon with an expectantly sad gaze. “I definitely understand. Don't worry, I was expecting the short end of this stick. Don't think you've cheated me out of anything.”

-------------------------

After about three days, Kururu decided that the nasty feeling curdling in his stomach, like that normally brought only by expired curry normally brought, required attention. Apparently, whatever problem his wave-bound companion was experiencing, he wasn't having much luck getting himself out of it. With a vaguely dissatisfied noise, he wiggled out of his chair and onto his feet, shuffling to his hoverboard. It rushed into flight noisily, thankfully settling into a quiet hum as the journey progressed. Nothing happened over its course, short of his insides developing what could be described as incredible gymnastic talent. He pulled his bared his teeth sourly as he guided the craft down to Saburo's apartment building at an unsafe speed, nearly ramming into a green-haired Pekoponian boy who seemed to be leaving. The slight, worried frown on his face was swiftly contorted with shock as he pitched himself into the wall.

“Hey! Be careful!” The demand surprised Kururu more than anything, who was fully prepared to leave the poor human inconvenienced with a few bruises. However, he seemed to know who he was talking to, and since the Keronian was quite sure of his antibarrier's active state, that should have been impossible.

“Kuku! Oh, should I? That's rather bold of you to tell me,” Kururu laughed, examining Pirarah with two parts ridicule and criticism. “Though you look familiar, don't you?”

“...You've met me... Oh.” The hybrid blinked, glancing down at himself. He had adjusted rather well to this form, and so it seemed as natural to him as anything.

Kururu paused, then uttered a triumphant note of laughter,“Pirarah, wasn't it? That little finned brat Saburo hangs around, or at least you normally are. What are you doing here, care to tell me?”

It wasn't truly posed as a request, and Pirarah did not truly care to tell Kururu, either, but he sighed. “I was just going to visit. I guess he's not here right now, though, he's not answering.” Kururu's frown sharpened at that, and he was bothered by the fact that he had some general idea of why it had done so.

“I see... Well, we can't find out just by standing around out here, can we? Ku...” This required a little improvisation. Helicopter blades whirled from his headphones, but instead of directing them into the sky, Kururu shot them out to the front, slicing into the wood of the door. They were through quickly, and a splintered hole big enough for a Keronian was soon carved.

“W-what are you doing?” Pirarah said nervously, peering in. Kururu nudged him aside to crawl into the apartment, “I'm breaking into Saburo's house, of course. I think it's necessary.”

“Why...?” A poof followed that question, and the piranha-Keronian scampered after Kururu, catching up to the scientist quickly. “What do you think-”

“That's about what I thought,” Kururu gestured at Saburo, who had half-managed to collapse on the couch. He approached the Pekoponian, clambering onto the couch and jabbing him brusquely in the face. “Oi, oi, come on. Get up.”

The boy failed to react in the slightest, staying firmly in the hold that unconsciousness had claimed over him, earning himself an impatient grunt from the scientist. “Plug your ears,” He directed Pirarah, and then his headphones were out again, this time blasting  fierce tone that jolted Saburo upright. He gasped, staring around with unexpectedly immediate recognition of his surroundings and sort of startled anger.

“Why are you here?” He asked, his voice so quiet that it sounded as if just half of his self was speaking, and the other was too worn down to use for any kind of self-expression. A certain harshness flattened the tone of that question.

“You could say I had a feeling that you needed some assistance.” Kururu replied, and Pirarah shook his head, because he wasn't totally sure what the answer to that would be on his own part. Saburo laughed shortly, shoving himself from the couch to stand over them. He shook from noticeable exhaustion, and from fear, though they weren't to know that.

“That's not something I was aware of myself. I'm pretty sure I'm doing fine,” There was no especially long pause in his speech, because each word had to be deliberately chosen. It was true, relatively speaking, he could have been far worse; the presence of these two was the most dangerous element to the situation now. He had to balance his interactions, it was... difficult... to pay attention to the demon in his mind, and address the Keronians quietly enough to prevent them from being noticed.  However, refusing to allow himself alternatives.

“A-are you sure...?” Pirarah said tentatively, staring up at Saburo with a more persistent question in his eyes.

Saburo sighed, “Yes.”

“...Hardly,” Kururu drawled darkly. He folded his arms over his chest, and glared at Saburo with unabashed challenge to that statement. The Pekoponian almost hesitated before turning away, stumbling off to his bedroom. He shut the door quietly, releasing a breath, and locked it. It would not stop Kururu, not if he really wanted to enter, but he lacked many other possibilities. The bed was inviting, tiredness partially misting over knowledge of what waited inside his head. Ultimately, he had an obligation to completely return, only by continuing could this be ended, and it wasn't like he needed to do much.

He dropped onto his back, dangling his feet over the edge. His eyes shut as noiselessly as the door had, with the same finality, severing him from the real world in favor of a vice-like reality.

“...Company, hmm?” Fingers twined into his hair and yanked his collapsed form into eye contact with it. There were no chains this time, but he had to ignore his instinct to remove himself, and he didn't know how long it would take until he could get away, but he didn't mind being patient. He maintained his silence, as he had been lately, to avoid reacting to mental prodding, or at some points, screaming. It wasn't hard to just keep his mouth shut, and it knew that he felt each individual blow, so it did not press him for a reaction. It would wait until he was ready to ask for this to stop on his own, that was all. It seemed that expectation had won out over hope, as much as it didn't surprise him, the demon knew of his visitors. What he was anxious about lay more in uncertainty as to why it had not tried to catch them. “Well, I don't want to put anyone's effort to waste. Not theirs, or yours. So... I'll go let them in on this, and you don't worry about it.”

Saburo gave his head a slight shake, though it only worsened the feeling of having his hair freed from its roots. A frown formed as a slight demonstration of greater anger, he pulled air into his lungs with a vicious breath that stung against broken ribs, but if he intended to at least make some spoken argument, he did not receive the chance.

“You don't need to fight me anymore... how about letting someone else try?” It reached forward, hooking its other hand into Saburo's jacket pocket and removing it, leaving torn fabric and hanging threads. Nothing that could hold the Reality Pen inside, and it fell, to be recovered by the demon. It fiddled with the tool idly, holding it up in front of the boy's face for him to examine. “What are you going to fight with?” It began to wave the Pen in front of him, despite the fact that it received no attention at first. He simply looked straight, without any reason to give this new taunt more attention than he had given the others. Until, that is, the demon continued with remarkable gentleness, the words curling around his still determined thoughts soothing incense despite their message, “There isn't much you can fight with now, you made your decision, and that's fine. But it's not like... Really, they might try to fight, and isn't that a better chance for you? It still... of course, it's still no good.” It paused to punctuate all of this with a carefree sigh. The Pen swung, and Saburo did not notice his eyes tracking it patiently, absorbing, and the sight twanged in his heart, because he could only hear what was being told to him as truth, one that he should probably just deal with already. If he couldn't work, then it was only logical to let someone else do it.

“Just go ask for help... then you can rest... This is not your problem anymore. Stop trying to take everything on yourself, it's foolish, pointless, and look, you already feel better, don't you? All you have to do is listen, abandon that silly notion of strength you have... it doesn't exist.” He shook his head again, as if it could shake off the net that he knew he was wrapped in, but he was too numb for effective movement. His mouth stayed slightly open, but he couldn't speak right away, he had to scrounge up something resembling coherence first.

“...N-no... I won't... ask.. bring th-them into this...” He forced a desperate smile. “...th-that would be... c-c-counter productive...” He shuddered violently, still only kept upright by his hair, and closed his eyes.

“Shh... they are already here, so just let them help... you're already in my power, as you know... So just... sleep. Sleep, and I'll handle everything. You don't have to hurt yourself anymore,” it murmured, waiting for its affirmative response. Saburo's eyelids slipped and slid, up and down, he clung to his awareness only tenuously, but a state of half-alertness was better than nothing.

His head itself matched the Pen's rhythm, swinging from side to side in refusal.

“...don't even try it, you puppet,” It tore Saburo off the ground entirely and hurled him away in disgust. He plummeted, landing with a vaguely pained noise, his eyes widening for a moment, but the shock was pushed to the side under the spell-wrought daze that chained up his mind. It hissed viciously, a sound that would have sounded more fitting if its maker had actually been in the process of tearing someone's throat from their neck, and hurried over to Saburo, ramming its foot into the boy's head.

“N-nnh...” He groaned, his eyes clutching themselves closed, his hand hovering over a blue-purple bump that was rapidly growing. His eyes may have been shut, but he still saw, colors and darkness and dizzy shapes burst painfully and danced in his vision, overriding his thoughts as if they were a code programed to do so.

“Look at me!” The demand was unforgiving, cutting, and he complied, because his own mind wasn't working and he couldn't help relying on someone else's because he needed something to do. He almost instantly tried to turn away, however, to somehow resume his defiance, because the demon's own gaze caught him, pitching him into something too endless to be called a pit. He gasped, pressing himself into the ground until he was hauled up by his collar, choking. “Now, really, I have no interest in upholding honor. That's just foolish. But really, if you go get them, then I'm not the one involving them, am I? Bring them here, and then... well, I can get what I want that much faster.”

“...I will... not...” But he was nodding, and indeed he would, because everything in him except his own consciousness was already operating to that end.

----------------------------

He jolted off the bed, startling Kururu and Pirarah, who had unsurprisingly found their way in. The pieces of wood around the doorway demonstrated how.

He didn't bother to look, or even directly acknowledge them, he merely let out a restrained shout, “Why  are you still here?! Just get out, it's kind  of...” He shoved his voice down to a lower volume, though he knew that outburst had been unspeakably counterproductive, as ironic as that way. “There's no reason for you to be here, is there?”

“Why, of course there is. Shut up...” Kururu leaned forward, his glasses catching in sunlight from the window, a glow that was almost painful to look at after what felt like so long without any literal or figurative light.

“No... you'll get hurt or something, and it's not like there will be any real reason for it.” He was positive that there was even less of a reason for him to be having this argument, however, because the demon had already ensured its own success. Kururu would not be dissuaded.

“...w-well... it looks like you've already been hurt... somehow... We shouldn't let it get worse.”  It appeared that Pirarah would not, either.

Kururu gave the other Keronian a sidelong glance before agreeing, “Indeed... How about we just poke around inside that brain of yours?”

“H-how do you even know it's that type of issue?” Saburo sat back down, asking a needless question for the sake of time. He would not allow this to be concluded quite that easily, he thought with a touch of wryness, whether the conclusion itself was inevitable or not.

“I simply made an assumption, though you know you've confirmed it. At any rate, if the problem isn't something we can see, then I would think it's in there,” Kururu shifted his glasses, snagging a flash of light with them again, and used his other hand to point at Saburo's head.
The boy's tongue froze, despite his knowledge that it would only work against him no matter how long it he delayed. An orange-peel of a smile crossed his lips, thin, bitter, and meaningless, his laugh was sharp, piercing, aimed at whatever wishes Kururu and Pirarah were harboring to save him from this supposed threat. He couldn't speak against it, perhaps, but there were other powers aside from words to be played here.

“Fine. I'll... go...”