Chapter Text
"Ah, Ocho-kun... That's it. Oh yes, this is just perfect~"
It was once again time for a fun activity that Kirio liked to call "our little game”. The rules of the game were simple: Ocho was put through all kinds of verbal abuse and torture, and Kirio enjoyed the crying, the begging and the whining, until his kink was satisfied.
Ocho's hands were tied to the chair with a firm rope; Kirio stood in front of him, cheerful smile contrasting with his tear-stained face.
"Kirio, you bastard! Stop it! Please..." Ocho tried to hold back sniffles and cries, but his spirit was slowly breaking. Today's game was a long one.
"Bastard, huh... I love it when you insult me,” Kirio murmured, waving a piece of paper in front of Ocho’s face, "especially with an expression like this."
"Kirio-kun... this is not even funny anymore...", Ocho was at his limit. This darned piece of paper was right in front of him, almost touching his nose. Yet every time the rat-like demon tried to snap his teeth on it and tear it off Kirio's hands, the piece of paper flew away from him, danced and taunted. And the goddamn rope felt even more so restrictive…
Ocho broke down.
"Kirio, please!", he gave in to ugly crying, tears and snot running down to his chin, "I want that photograph so much! Coco is so, so beautiful there, and my collection just won't be complete without it! That passion in his performance, that outfit... Kirio, please, I beg you, give it to me!"
That's where the game would usually end. Ocho breaks down, Kirio says something along the lines of "Ah, what a beautiful face 🖤," and sets him free, satisfied with his daily dose of bullying.
And yet, in place of the usual sadistic grin was just a... confused and deadpan expression. That felt almost offensive.
"...Is my crying too ugly this time?" Ocho tried to sniffle some of the snot back. He failed and for some reason immediately got annoyed at Kirio.
His torturer didn't respond. Almost like he was paralyzed. Ocho wiggled around, trying to get Kirio's attention, since waving his hands wasn't an option right now. That seemed to work: Kirio unfroze and looked away, ashamed.
"Sorry... I don't really... Ugh." A heavy sigh followed. There was an awkward silence between the two for a bit, and then Kirio groaned.
"I don't get this... Your face is perfect, so why is..."
"You okay?" Ocho almost felt worried for this guy.
Kirio sighed again, placed a chair right in front of Ocho and fell on the seat, burying his face in his arms. "I don't know what's wrong with me, but lately I'm just... not getting the kicks from seeing despaired faces, ya know?"
Ocho frowned.
"Maybe you just got bored of seeing mine?"
"No", Kirio grunted, "I tried to do it on others too. Went pretty hard on Toto-kun, and on Atori-chan as well... and I tried to do it on strangers too. It just doesn't feel the same. I don't get it."
"Ugh, um... That's weird", Ocho pondered for a bit and then suggested, "You sure you are taking care of yourself? Staying hydrated, exercising, getting enough sleep? That stuff can take a toll on you, you know"
"Ocho, I fucking hate exercising", Kirio finally unburried himself from his hands just to burn a hole in Ocho with a glare, "I start vomiting blood on Ani-san's precious carpet 6 seconds in, and then he scolds me and makes me clean it all up"
"Well, maybe you should still try and build up your stamina! I have heard somewhere that regular exercise has been scientifically proven to help increase one's libi..."
"Shut", Kirio interrupted, "just shut up. Don't say a single word. Just don't do it. Quiet"
He began pacing around the room, his footsteps rushed and stern and annoyed. Yes, Ocho concluded to himself, that was it. Kirio was having an existential crisis.
"Ever since I was a child, this strange obsession of mine was what defined me. That's how I found Ani-san. That's the main reason everyone in the Six Fingers follows me. It's such a huge part of my identity... and now it's gone!" Kirio smashed his fist against the wall. He regretted this immediately though, as he produced an "ouwie!!" and teared up a little.
"...Look, no need to get all worked up about this", pity finally overtook Ocho, "it can be just a temporary thing. If you untie me, I can get Baal, and we will figure out the solution to this issue, all together"
Kirio's face instantly lit up. "Ocho", he grabbed the rat-like boy by his shoulders, "you are a genius". Without saying anything else, Kirio rushed out of the room. One might have noticed a subtle, joyful hopping in his motion.
It was once again quiet and empty. Ocho produced a nervous chuckle and a bitter smile. Kirio was gone, together with the blessed photo; yet the rope stayed, its grip still firm and tight.
This was going to be a long evening.