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Celestia Ludenberg always tries to remember first meetings. How someone introduces themselves is indicative of how they want to be seen, and thus how they can later be exploited.
But she could never forget the demon that was Kokichi Ouma.
Celeste was perched in some cheap, rather filthy leather chair. Back straight, legs crossed, empty smile obscured by cards. Perfect posture with no secrets to tell. Except that those cards she held were none other than the King and Queen of Spades. Lady Luck must be on her side today.
She eyed her three competitors. Two were wearing suits. The other was squirming in his seat rather… awkwardly. How pitiful. The two suit wears – most likely businessmen, a conclusion supported by the fact that the casino was situated unnaturally close to a cluster of office buildings – had their gazes focused her, pupils noticeably dilated.
They were free to do, or ogle, whatever they pleased in a place like this. Provided that they stay as far away from Celeste as possible. It was hormonal males like them that made victory easy, and by extension winning money. And her winning money was something she wholeheartedly supported. So, Celeste could tolerate a few perverts, despite what the rest of her body was telling her.
As for the other annoyingly fidgety male (she already knew the two cards he had were of low numbers and differing suits), her eyes didn’t miss the ‘I visited HPA today!’ badge proudly pinned on his blazer. This idiot was clearly a fan of Hope’s Peak Academy. The poor fanboy must have wanted to come and play against the notorious Ultimate Gambler, which was why he was now sat in front of her as a nervous wreck. What a complete and utter fool.
“Check,” she heard someone chirp. It broke her out of her stupor. How unladylike of her. Celeste’s eyes promptly set themselves on a little boy sitting at the opposite end of her table. Since when was she playing poker with an infant?
It was rare Celeste would make a mistake in something as simple as arithmetic. Or, even worse, make a mistake by doing something absurdly idiotic, such as not counting how many people she was playing cards against. A mistake made only by the most foolish novices.
It was true that Celeste prided herself on being adaptable. Adaptability is a trait that is very much needed in order to survive the cruel and fast-paced world of gambling. However, Celeste did not appreciate the fact that being adaptable seemed to come in a package deal with something she hated: being forced to adopt the characteristics and qualities of the people around her – almost like camouflage. But Celeste was far too superior intellectually for that. Besides, she would never become even remotely similar to those morons.
Though, her mistake could be excused. The strange child sitting at the end of her table was so small that it was no surprise she had not noticed him previously. He was clothed in some god-awful clown-like bondage apparel - is that what children are wearing these days? - and a checker-board patterned scarf that in itself was enough to induce a very unwanted migraine. Even ignoring the flashy, hideous lights of the slot machines spread throughout the rest of the casino, the mere presence of this boy would be enough to grace Celeste with a clouded mind. She hated him already.
She offered him her coldest smile.
He snickered.
A few minutes later and that same boy is producing some of the most questionable laughter Celeste has ever heard in her lifetime.
“Nishishi! I was so sure Celes-chan had a royal flush…and all this time all she was hiding was a measly full house!” the boy flapped his arms around wildly, indicating he was in high spirits.
“Hmmm, I think I’ve absorbed some of Komaeda-chan’s good luck! I mean… I did see him get hit by a bicycle earlier today, so that means he must’ve had some luck left over for little ol’ me to borrow!”
She again offered him that same cold smile. She was sure her mouth was twitching slightly. Celeste Ludenberg did NOT just lose at poker. To some incompetent little embryo.
The boy stopped his movements and padded up to her, kicking the table aside in order to reach her. He stopped right in front of her with a blank face. It reminded Celeste of her own.
“Celes-chan, this truth may be hard to grasp, since it’s coming from a devious liar such as myself.” Who does this child think he is?
“But I think that you should be a little more honest with yourself, okay? You’ll be a lot happier that way. And that’s not a lie!”
She wanted to strangle him.
After stabbing him multiple times with a 1000-degree knife. Like one of those miserable lowlifes did on the internet for desperate views.
She learned that his name was Kokichi Ouma. The Ultimate Supreme Leader.
The bastard claimed to have a secret organisation of over 10,000 members. What a pathetic lie for such a pathetic excuse of a person.
“Celes-chan!” The same bastard came prancing up to Celeste in all his repulsive glory. Celeste felt a wave of annoyance course through her. Not that anyone would ever notice of course.
“Celessss-chan! How is my favourite gothic lolita doing this beautiful morning?” Celeste paused momentarily, acting as though she was bothering to take his words into account. She tried to calculate the politest and swiftest way to force Ouma to leave the area.
“My morning has quite suddenly taken a most unpleasant turn." Celeste brought a hand up to her heart, turning her eyes downwards into a practiced, sorrowful expression. "Just moments ago, I was almost entirely at ease. That was, of course, until I was faced with an unexpected hindrance that I had not previously foreseen encountering.” She found herself so very desperately wishing he would just leave her be.
Ouma just laughed. His perturbing outfit choices served to disguise his true intelligence… his true honest nature. Celeste blinked. Did she really just think of this child as marginally intelligent? How odd of her.
“But Celes-channnnn! You may be the Queen of Liars, but that doesn’t mean you can just casually insult your King like that, y’know?” Ouma lectured as he wagged a finger at her. “That’s something wayyy too evil for a kind soul like yourself to do!” Celeste smirked. Ouma hadn’t noticed the mistake he had just made.
She now had an opening.
“Ouma-kun. I am afraid that I have been left rather perplexed by your previous statement.” Ouma continued to smile happily. “You referred to me as the Queen of Liars, a title I may or may not be in possession of.” Ouma started bouncing on the balls of his feet. It was rather irritating.
“However, that is not what I have difficultly understanding. You see, you also referred to yourself as ‘the King,’ implying that the relationship between us has a romantic nature.” Ouma was still smiling. Celeste didn’t like that.
“Ouma-kun, I was under the impression that your interests in romance... were of the homosexual variety.” Ouma froze. Perfect. “Particularly pertaining to a certain Shuichi Saiha--”
“Celes-chan.” Ouma interrupted. He usual playful façade had vanished within an instant. His body language was now almost most certainly defensive. But Celeste didn’t care. Celeste felt like breaking something. Preferably Kokichi Ouma’s neck.
“I get it… your heart, soul, mind, and body are super-duper-wuper broken after I defeated you, right?” Celeste remained poker-faced. Was this child seriously resorting to taunting her?
“I know it must have hurt you so, so, soooo much to be have been so easily beaten at such a simpleminded game like poker! A game which your pride is oh-so dependent on!” Ouma’s face morphed into a grin that radiated cruelty and a sadistic pleasure.
“Nishishi! It’s so pathetic – your self-esteem is reliant on GAMBLING of all things!” His ‘cruel’ facial expression looked very practiced. Much like her own.
Celeste continued to keep that same cold smile plastered to her face.
“There’s more to life than winning, y’know,” Ouma continued. “And deep down, somewhere in that icy, non-existent heart of yours, I know you know that that’s not a lie.” Celeste blinked. She finally broke away from Ouma’s intense stare and looked at tiles beneath her.
Did Celeste still have a heart? Even after years and years of surrounding herself with nothing but lies and deceit? She would be surprised if she still did. But Celeste couldn’t bring herself to care. Celeste could feel a stream of filthy emotions oozing through her. Hatred, disgust, loathing. A need to attack. A need to let her emotions out.
But she was Celestia Ludenberg.
Celestia Ludenberg didn’t have idiotic, unnecessary things like emotions. Celestia Ludenberg was a stone-cold bitch who always, always won. She wasn’t someone who lost in poker to evil clowns who sprouted life advice as if she actually needed to consider what they were saying…
She didn’t deserve advice.
She was far, far, far too pathetic for that.
Hah.
Hahahahha.
Celeste had never felt like this in her life.
“Y-you! What the HELL do you mean? You know nothing!” She was screaming at him now, a voice in the back of her head said.
She didn’t care.
“You’re just another dimwitted idiot! You sound so sure of yourself! HAH! As if you have any redeeming qualities whatsoever!”
Celeste’s arguments were pathetic, she knew she was desperately grabbing any words she could find and launch at him. Make him go away, make him leave me alone!
“Celes-chan, I never said I was a good person.” Ouma pouted. Was he used to people screeching at him so ungracefully?
“Go to HELL!” she snarled. Aha, it felt so good. Why are you losing your composure like this why wh--
“You’ll never be truly happy if you keep going the way you are now, okay?” Ouma sang.
“What the FUCK do you know?” Celeste hissed.
Shut up shut u--
“Hmmm~ lemme guess!” Ouma jumped up and down. An action that indicated excitement. “Ooh, ooh! You don’t really like gambling, do you?”
ShuT UP SHUT U-
“You’re just another pretty face.” Ouma twirled around. ”You make a living sticking out your tits!”
Who does this IMBECILE think he i--
“You, Taeko Yasuhiro,” Ouma pointed a finger directly at Celeste's face. “You are nothing more than a filthy gold digger!”
HOW DARE H--
“Shut the FUCK UP, OUMA!” Oh nonononnoo she’s screamin—
“You’re just an INCOMPENTENT, IDIOTIC MORON that needs to SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Celeste screeched.
She couldn’t stop it.
Couldn’t stop herself.
Her lungs went dry.
Hahahahha.
Her fists were clenched so tightly together her nails were cutting into her palms but she was so numb she couldn’t feel it anyway and her legs were shaking what was this feeling what was this feeli---
“Feels good doesn’t it, finally being honest, hmm?” She couldn’t look at him. Not yet.
They stood there in silence. Celeste bent over her knees in a dress made for dolls and Ouma watching her carefully in a costume made for clowns.
They were both their own kind of liar.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, or that I ever would say this, but thank you for saying the truth, Celeste.” Ouma curved his lips upwards towards her. She saw no lie in his smile.
“Or, at least, your twisted version of it.”
Hahahahhaahaha.
Hah.
Years of lies undone by some infant in a bondage clown suit.
Hahahahah.
Ouma returned to the same casino a few weeks later.
Celeste won.
Easily.
She didn’t feel anything.
It was another month later when Celeste knocked on the door to Kokichi Ouma’s dorm room, holding a neon pink letter between manicured hands.
“This is from Saihara-kun.” Celeste stated, maintaining her usual empty smile. Ouma raised his eyebrows. Maybe the smile wasn’t so empty.
“Don’t tell me this is some sort sick prank, Celes-chan.” Ouma crossed his arms. “Even I wouldn’t have predicted you to be that much of a bitch.” She giggled lightly into her hand.
“This is nothing of the sort, Ouma-kun.” He titled his head, curious. “On the contrary, I imagine that once you examine the contents of the letter, you will instead be quite pleased.” He hesitated slightly, if only for a second, but then quickly moved forwards to grab the paper.
“Alrighty then! If you say so!”
Celeste watched from a distance as Ouma and Saihara exchanged identical neon pink letters. Saihara was noticeably blushing. Ouma… not so much.
Celeste knew Ouma was flustered though, if his reddened face and jittery hands from reading the letter earlier were anything to go by.
...
Maybe if either of them had been paying closer attention, they would’ve noticed that the same black stylized cursive writing had been used in both of their letters.
She knew Ouma would notice sooner or later anyways. Maybe he already had.
She didn’t really care.
Because, in the end, it didn’t really matter.
Celeste refocused her attention back on the scene. Saihara had grabbed Ouma’s hand and was seemingly leading him somewhere. Ouma was undeniably blushing now.
Right as they reached the doorway, about to disappear from Celeste’s sight, Ouma turned around and gave her a smile, almost like he knew she had been there all along.
His smile... definitely wasn’t empty.
Celeste couldn’t help but think that for someone who claimed to be a liar, Ouma could be surprisingly honest.
“Thank you, Kokichi Ouma.”