fam chat
no real intro or context or anything i jst shdishjdgdjd
implied mentions of harassment & homophobia





"what do you mean, _'no?'_ have you been listenin' to a single fuckin' thing i said?" panana folds his arms, propping his feet up against the table.

pojiji, on the opposite side to panana, sighs. "that's not how it works, son, and you should know better." he lifts a cup to his mouth - tea, his usual - and sips. panana groans.

"i don't care how it works, _dad._ i'm fuckin' justified in what i say. i ain't wrong." panana grits his teeth. "she's _perfect,_ and it's the only damn way this'll work."

it's the same as it's always been in their household - panana's finding something to complain about, pojiji's telling him what's what, and peruru's off doing his own thing in the corner - usually reading - since it doesn't concern him, for the most part. the core difference now is that, whilst pojiji's still dealing with his kids, his kids are now _adults,_ which means conversation topics are bound to be more... _out_ there.
   if panana's involved, at least.

peruru pipes up, looking over his shoulder. "forcin' arranged marriages ain't gonna make her happy, you know that, right?"

"nobody asked for _your_ opinion." panana moves to rock on his seat, but stops at the realisation he'll probably fall off. he can't risk that, not right now. "go back to readin' your stupid pussy nerd book and mind your own business."

"yeah, i'll go do that," peruru grins. "at least i ain't beggin' pops to sort out marriages 'cuz i can't get laid."

panana lifts his feet off the table. he immediately stands, slamming his fists against the surface in anger. pojiji hums, setting his cup back down.

"now, boys," he's not had to deal with this in _so_ long. pojiji didn't think he'd _miss_ not having his sons around. "there's no need to be so--"

"i told you to mind your own fuckin' _business._ you don't have any goddamn fuckin' _right_ to criticise me for _anythin'._ you're just a fuckin'," panana clenches his fists. "you're just a fuckin' _private!_ you don't know how important this is!"

peruru groans, closing the book he'd been so _clearly_ invested in. "yeah, no, because fawnin' over someone _one rank above me_ is clearly you try'na marry into success." he rests the book on the floor, and stands, dusting himself off because he's _that_ confident that he's in the right.
   "just admit that you're a creep already and move the _fuck_ on." peruru pauses, and turns to his father, and apologises for his language.

pojiji buries his head in his hands.

"yeah, right, as if i'd want _success."_ panana stretches his arms out wide, grinning. "i'm _already_ a success. i'm gettin' promoted every fuckin' _day._ i am a _god_ to the army."
   he retracts his arms, to point at peruru. "can't say the same for you, _reject._ i'm tryin' to expand the family with someone who's _worth_ our goddamn name," he squints. "and what are _you_ doin' for that, huh? _huh?"_

the aggression in panana's voice grows. when he speaks, it's almost a whisper - it's the voice of disgust and distain.

"you ain't doin' _shit,_ 'cause you're just as fuckin' _defective_ as that _idiot_ you play house with."

peruru takes a step forward towards panana, frowning. "the fuck you _mean,_ 'defective'?"

panana folds his arms. "oh, you know. your brain ain't in the right place, is it? how're you meant to keep our family goin' when you're so fuckin' twisted in the head, huh?"

pojiji's standing, now. he's moved to stand between the pair; he knows they're going to get physical at any moment, he's _used_ to it, but panana trying to bait peruru into snapping first isn't something that pojiji's fond of.

"son," pojiji rests his hands on panana's shoulders. "don't you _dare_ talk to your brother that way."

panana looks down, furrowing his brow; he won't retaliate against his father, and pojiji _knows_ it. panana _can't._
   "i ain't wrong. i'm tellin' the damned truth. he's stupid and he's fucked in the head. you ain't seen him. you ain't _seen_ him."

peruru turns away, to move back to where he was sat prior - he knows better than to stress pojiji out. panana keeps talking, though.

"he's a _disgrace_ to us, dad. at least i'm _tryin'._ peruru ain't shit. how's he meant to pass on our family legacy if he's fuckin' guys, huh?" panana takes a step back, back towards his chair, and sits down.
   "i'm _tryin'._ rasusu is _perfect._ we're perfect for eachother. we'd have so many great kids. i'd do us real proud, dad."

"she hates you."

panana snaps his attention back to peruru. he scowls. "what?"

"rasusu hates you." peruru leans back comfortably against the wall, picking his book back up. "she tells me about it. she says, _'your brother's really stressin' me out. i can't deal with him not leavin' me alone'._ that, and the likes."
   "she broke down durin' a debrief once, 'cuz you slipped that note in between her documents." peruru's still marginally pissed off, but he's convinced himself to try and speak as calmly as he can. "she don't feel like a person anymore. i'm worried about her, even though i ain't see her often anymore. our whole fuckin' dept is worried 'bout her, but she ain't told people what's gettin' her down."

panana reclines in his seat. he looks towards the ground. "don't lie to me. you're try'na make me feel like shit."

"oh, as if i'd do that so _unprovoked."_ peruru closes his eyes and inhales, and reaches to pull his phone out of his hat; he's just looking for something else to do.
   "she hates you and wants you to leave her alone, for fucks sake. at least give her a week away from your bullshit."

pojiji slumps fowards in defeat. he addresses panana, somewhat thankful that the two managed to calm down almost immediately. "you've gone been doin' that to that poor woman?"
   pojiji shakes his head. "i meant it, when i said no, but after hearin' about it? well, may the lord of terror smite me for considerin' sayin' yes, son."

panana chews on his lip. "she ain't ever told me she hates me. she just rolls her eyes, and all that. i thought it was flirtin'."

"physically pushin' you away and tellin' you to leave her alone ain't 'flirtin'', pana." peruru says. "she's scared of you."

"you don't know what she's like," panana mumbles. "i do. i know all about her."

"oh my god. you don't know _shit."_ peruru's _tired,_ at this point, and he knows his father is, too. he doesn't want pojiji to have to deal with panana's incompetence. "i'm pretty much the only person she trusts with this shit, and i'll be honest, i'm a shitty friend. but i'll hear her out and try and help her, 'cuz i know how fuckin' _awful_ it is dealin' with _you."_

"dealin' with _me?_ i'm a damn pleasure to be so-called _dealin'_ with." panana's equally tired, but he's not a fan of having people go against him.

"oh, yeah, you're such a _pleasure_ to be with, pana. highlights of my ride on your shitwagon includes bein' called 'detective' and bein' told i'm sick in the head for deviatin' from your ideals." peruru turns, slightly, but only to keep an eye on pojiji.
   "i'd rate my experience five stars. ten outta ten. get over yourself, bro."

there's silence, for a while. it's _rare_ for the room to be silent, like this.

pojiji sighs, and clears his throat. "i've got that boardgame you two played back in the old days, still," he rubs the back of his head nervously. "if anyone's interested."