Work Text:
PartyNoob surveyed their apartment.
They mentally go over their list: Food? Check. Games? Check. Music? Check. Dancing? Guaranteed. Guests? Invited.
Who’s invited? Practically everyone they knew from the Regretevator, save for an exception or two (in the form of gradients, aliens, and parasites). Of course, with the sheer volume of parties they hosted, not everyone is expected to show up, but still, some came by more often than others.
What’s the occasion? Old reliable excuse: their ‘birthday’, though at this point, Poob always skips the whole ‘singing happy birthday and blowing the candles’ gimmick, because doing that 365 times a year would likely get old.
Poob sprinted across the living room, dragging balloons by their strings and hanging them up on their apartment’s flashy walls. The boombox placed next to the CRT was already blasting a joyful tune, keeping the apartment from plunging into silence. The last thing a party needs is silence, after all.
The guests came in batches, as fast as the elevator could bring them. Poob perked up upon hearing the first ding of many, rushing to the sliding doors to see three familiar faces.
“hai wallter! HAI SPLIT!!” Poob greeted two of them, waving frenetically, then paused for a second upon looking at the third guest, “nd- WOA! split! u broght ur sister??”
“More like she brought me!” Split jested with a grin on her face, giving Nan a playful shoulder bump with her elbow. “She was berry excited to see what your parties are all about!”
Poob gasped upon hearing that, “rly??”
“YEAH!!” Nan spoke triumphantly, “The streets say you’re the best to ever do it- so YOU BETTER NOT DISAPPOINT!”
“um- dats a big ask, BUT I THINK I WONT!” Poob said, only somewhat confidently.
Nan chuckled, but then dropped her smile slightly to pull the party-goer a little closer.
“Though, I gotta ask” she whispered to them, eyeing Wallter across the living room, “Why do you have to invite that... CAPITALIST, to your parties?”
“wat?” Poob whispered back, confused. “um. hes my frend... also hes rly nice u kno?”
“Mmh... sure, ’kay.” Nan answered with a distinct disdain to her tone, patting Poob’s shoulder firmly before walking into the apartment.
Split walked past the confused party-goer and gave them a little reassuring glance, accompanied by a small shake of her head, as if silently saying ‘Yeah, I know. Don’t worry about her.’
It’s been roughly four full days since intrusion.
Pest’s den is still poorly illuminated and covered in debris he couldn’t bother cleaning, the eastern wall still completely blown open from when he carelessly chased the tourists around with Katsuwagata, which was now nonoperational.
Pest himself stood over his workbench in a less than ideal posture as he scribbled beneath the lamp’s light. Every part of his body felt sore, and a slew of blueprints and notes were scattered both on and below the table, along with random trinkets.
He sketched roughly on the blueprint he was working on, his left eye occasionally twitching, and looked back to observe it as the cogs in his mind turn.
His head bobs slightly downwards and he sighs through his nose, writing down beneath his already lengthy list of items:
“- Primary pneumatic rotary actuator. Replacement.”
Pest thinks to himself. He knows he has no spares, he has to buy one.
He turns slightly towards his left and eyes the overhead door on the opposite wall of the den. It takes him a few seconds, but eventually, he picks up a remote and presses the button to open it.
Pest trudges over towards the door as it slowly slides up with a mechanical whir. He steps into the room and looks downward to check on what can be described as a money pool.
Usually overflowing, he only spots a thin layer of coins at the bottom of the pit.
The half-beetle just stares down at it, lingering for a bit longer than he should, before turning away with a low groan, feeling like he’s one inconvenience away from imploding.
He picks up the remote and closes the door to his pitiful coin reserve while he mentally calculates how long it’d take to make the funds to acquire the actuator, not even wanting to think about all the other bits he couldn’t salvage from Katsuwagata.
He runs through what little options he has left, then his thoughts eventually land on something.
“…パーティ。("...Party.")” He mumbles to himself, remembering that there’s one coming up right now, one of the many he was constantly invited to.
He’d have to go right now to catch it, he’d rather chew his mandibles off, but he had to.
It wasn’t the most effective method, nor would it make back everything he had lost in one go, but having a lot of people gathered in one place was a good starting point for what would likely take months to gain back. If he gets lucky, someone might have something valuable enough to make the trip worthwhile.
He quietly laments the noise and antics he’s about to endure, removing the welding helmet attached to his head and untying the jacket on his waist to put it on.
Pest waits for the Regretevator, keeping himself busy by picking up one of the many voombas he had lying around to disassemble it on his workbench, up until he heard that distinct ding and the sound of metallic doors sliding open.
He sets his screwdriver down and rests his arms on the table for a bit, taking some downtime before heading towards the elevator.
He hears some faint conversation as he approaches.
“DUDE. dude. dude.........................”
“What?”
“i just remembered... poob has wii sports, i hope they set it up at the party so i can kickmaxx your assss. at bowling.”
Prototype tilted his head curiously at the claim, “...With what arm??”
“what- THAT’S SO RUDECORE” Scag reacted, flailing around her claw, “you think i cant gripmaxx a controller with this??”
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to sound rudeBZZT-”
Both of their attentions are caught when they spot Pest entering the elevator.
Melanie, who had been idling in the other corner, looks over as well. “Hi there!” She greets him first.
Pest turns his head to look at her, greeting her with a simple hum as he walks towards the last free spot inside.
“Hmm...” Prototype speaks up, observing Pest, slightly slouched and with his eyes half-lidded. “...I’m sensing you look quite tired!”
“I don’t remember asking.” Pest rudely replies, not bothering to look his way.
Melanie hums in, “Hmm, w- well, without sounding nosy... you do look a bit tired, e- everything okay?”
He shakes his head slightly in dismissal of the question, “Just business as usual.”
“Well, business IS usually tiring!” she replies, in the kind of tone that doesn’t really irritate him. “S- So maybe relaxing is a good idea?”
Pest looks up towards her, hiding his intentions, “I know. I’m going to go... ‘relax’ somewhere.”
“Huh?” She tilts her head, “Where? I- If I can ask!”
“Same place you’re going, I assume.” He replies in a flat tone.
The three robots present raised their digital brows slightly as they realized what he meant.
Melanie plays it cool, not wanting to make him retract, “...O- Oh! That’s sweet-”
“OMG THIS BUMCORE’S GOING TO THE PARTY EWWWWW”
“死にたいのか？！ (“Are you trying to die?!”)” Pest snaps.
Scag emits a snicker before continuing to provoke him, “bro is a super rare event”
Pest just glares at her in response, his lower mandibles clenched firmly as he quietly swallows the aggravation. Melanie silently looked at Scag, giving her a bit of an anxious expression.
“Yes, you’re right! This is unusual!” Prototype interjects brightly, “I don’t recall the beetle ever attending any parties of theirs! At least the ones I’ve been to...”
“It’s not my first.” He clarifies, crossing his arms. “Shut up already-”
“HEY PEST” Scag interrupts, switching the topic entirely, “PEST... are you goatedcore at wii sports.”
“...I’m not playing anything with you.”
“ohhhh myyy GODDD do you have ANY FUN in your life. slash srs.”
Pest answers rudely, “礼儀ってもんを知らねえのか？ (“Don’t you know what manners are?”)”
“Scag...” Melanie interjects, glancing over at her and gesturing to stop with her own hand.
“...sorrycore”
The conversation eventually fades out, with Prototype immediately distracting Scag with more conversation about the party, words that went through Pest’s left ear and left out of the other as he idled in his corner of the elevator.
Very soon after, the metal doors would slide open to reveal their destination.
Everyone looked inside: silly lights spilled through the open doors, flashing in different colors at one-second intervals. A deep cut from The Rot’s debut album loudly played through some boombox’s speakers as a congregation of people that had arrived earlier could be spotted inside, some dancing on the twister rug, some others by the kitchenette further away.
“cominggg!!” A familiar joyful voice spoke out from inside, making Pest scowl.
PartyNoob rushed to the open doors. “HALLOOO MEL! scag! proto!! WELCOEM!!” they greeted the new batch of guests, waving their hand like their life depended on it.
“...also hai pest” they added brightly, blissfully unaware he was here for their party.
Pest did not respond.
“Poob!” Melanie greeted them first, the two having a brief hug before she stepped into the apartment. Prototype and Scag followed, the latter asking as she rolled in “do you got the wii set up.”
“um. i can set it up!! after dancin!”
“COOLCORE!” she grinned, moving along.
Then came Pest, uncrossing his arms and walking in, looking past Poob to assess the situation.
Split, Nan, Wallter, Infected, Mozelle, the three that came in the elevator with him... and Poob themselves. Interesting.
An opportunity that also presented itself with going to events like these is taking belongings scattered about by the guests, or from Poob’s own things. He had to be careful though, knowing most people here knew him-
“wait- pest?” Poob spoke up as he started to walk inside, interrupting his train of thought. “ur- ur comign in?”
Pest looked at them, brow furrowing as he replied sharply. “...Was I invited or not.”
“YEA BUT-” they tripped over their own words, “liek- ummmidk i didnt think dis was ur stop...!”
“It is.”
Poob’s pupils widened, getting visibly excited as the fact that Pest was attending slowly sunk in. They tried to not make a big deal about it, knowing he hated when they do that, “um- um- OK!! YEA!! WELCOEM WELCOME UMM-”
They hastily turned to point around at the different attractions in their living room party while Pest gritted his teeth, “thers uhhh dancing ppl! thers snacks ovr at da kitchen, thers umm a dart board hung over ther, im gonna get my game console l8r- nd- nd-"
"...OOH! i also got appl flavord thingys in da fridge!! u want me to heat em up in tha oven??”
Pest, only somewhat paying attention to them, suddenly turned his head towards them upon hearing that last bit. “...What apple flavored ‘thingys’ exactly.”
“um... hehe..” Poob grinned as they looked back at him, “apple cinnamon rollsss”
Pest’s red eyes narrowed slightly, not in disgust, but in reluctant interest. He tried keeping his deadpan expression intact, but ultimately, he ends up nodding a single time, stiffly so.
Poob nodded back, excitedly exclaiming “OKEY!!! YA!! JUST giev it a lil!!” as they rushed past the crowd and onto the kitchenette, leaving Pest behind at the entrance. The half-beetle left out a groan under his breath, already feeling exhausted by them. It certainly didn’t help that Poob always acted like this whenever he showed up to these events.
The party continued, Pest picking up a cup and serving himself some mysterious unlabeled bottle of “soda” as he sat down on the couch.
A song or two passed, his attention wandering over to everyone dancing on the twister rug while one of his hands inconspicuously snaked up some random jacket’s pocket, left abandoned on the couch by God-knows-who.
His fingers search around, but all he could feel was... a hole in the pocket’s cloth.
“いいね… (“Great...”)”
He took a swig of his cup, still observing everyone. Some of them looked a bit ridiculous.
Nan was singing her own songs and somehow forgetting some of the lyrics, Wallter was attempting something that could generously be described as dancing, Mozelle was just... there, static, maybe exchanging a word or two with Melanie here and there, who was also getting into dance.
Scag was... doing donuts? Spinning around her own axis with a stupid expression on her CRT. Prototype picked her up from her shelf and began to spin her on his claw like she was a basketball, making her scream painfully loud.
The ear-piercing whine made Pest scowl, but it was distracting enough to allow him to check the other pocket. He slid his hand in to feel that unmistakable tactile sensation of some loose coins-
“PEST!!”
Pest automatically shot his hand back out and turned his head left to look at Poob, who stood behind a counter. “...What.”
Poob smiled brightly, “da cinnamon rols!” they said, gesturing him to walk over to the kitchenette with their palm.
His mandibles twitched irritably, but alas, he got up with a tired groan and made his way over there.
As he approached, Poob opened the oven and slid the tray of reheated pastries out. They looked back to catch Pest glaring at them, waiting, leaning back with his elbows resting on the countertop.
Poob smiled a bit brighter before placing the tray right beside him, not bothering to serve it on a plate. “here u gooo!!”
Pest turned slightly and slid the tray closer to him. He refused to thank them as he picked up one of the warm rolls and took a sizable bite, eyes focusing back on the makeshift dance floor.
The party-goer giggled upon seeing him dig into their baking without giving it a second thought, a noise that made his mandibles twitch.
They let a moment pass before lazily sprawling their torso on the countertop, glistening eyes looking up at him. “sooooo how has ur day beeeeen??”
He turned to glare down at them, “I don’t remember asking for a chat.”
“u dont ask for chats, silly!!” Poob replied with a grin, “u just get them!”
Pest swallowed the chunk he was chewing, remaining silent as he just looked back at the dancers.
Poob quietly insisted, “...u dint answer my questionn”
“I don’t have to.”
“pfft- hahehh- dun giev me dat attitud! ur da one dat came to my party!!”
Pest groaned, aggravated at his loss of the high ground he usually had over them.
He looked back at them, frowning, “Don’t you want to go dance with everyone else over there? Or would you rather annoy me.”
“mayb i do wanna dance!” they answered, perking up a bit, “u wanna come wit me?”
“What?! No. 失せろ。(“Fuck off.”)”
“COEM ONN!” they insisted, whiny, yet still smiling widely. “i can change da music if u wanna!! wat do u want?”
“Nothing.” Pest replied, mindlessly picking up another cinnamon roll to eat.
Poob got off the countertop, straightening up to look at his expression more closely. “wats da mattr? r u tiredd?”
“No.” He responded with his mouth half-full. He then looked at them more intently and added “You look tired yourself.”
“wat..?” Poob tilted their head, brow furrowing slightly, “no i dont...? wat?”
Pest pointed right above their left cheek with his index, “You have bags under your eyes.”
“i do??” they questioned in a panicked tone, raising their palms up to their own face. Pest retrieved his hand and nodded sharply in response, swallowing his food.
Poob quietly turned away, their usual cheery expression faltering for a moment, before they ultimately tried brushing things off, “well im feelin fine thoooo. liek- im not tired!”
Pest hummed with sarcastic undertones, looking away and just picking at another cinnamon roll.
The party-goer looked at him in mock-offense and explained themselves, unprompted, “wweeellll MAYBE i didnt get any sleep last nite, but everyon does dat rite?? evry now n then?”
Chewing, Pest let a second or two pass before shrugging in response. He wasn’t about to agree with them, even if he’s been skipping nights of rest himself.
“yeaaa u do dat too!” they insist, silly in tone, “DW ur secret is safe wit me”
He swallowed, and shoots back, “It’s not a secret. Also, I don’t lose sleep for the same reasons as you do-”
“HEY!” A loud voice loudly interrupts their conversation. Pest scowls as Scag rolls up to the other side of the counter, back on her shelf.
“hey.” she repeats, looking at the party-goer, “poobmaxxer. when are you setting up the wii.”
“hold on!!! u jus arrived heree, nd da livin room is occupied by everyon dancin!”
“BUT I WANNA PLAYMAXX NOWWWWWWW-”
“Y0 P4RTY D00D!” Yet another voice, which can be weirdly described as sounding ‘crispy’, interjects.
Pest‘s scowl deepens as Infected also walks in. He just angrily munches on cinnamon rolls while Infected continues, “br0, i see th3 dartb04rd 0ver th3r3, wh3re th3 d4rts 4t??”
“um- i mustv left it on sum drawer. y u ask?”
“t0 pl4y, DUH” he explained, “w4llt3r w4nt3d t0 pl4y t00”
“OKA!!” Poob nodded, “yea i can go fetch thm!!”
“C00L!” He replied, resting his elbows down on the counter, “4ls0 br0, imm4 r0ll 4 blunt l8r l0l d0 u w4nt t0 sh4re”
“mmmmm...mm... noo not rite nowe” they politely decline after some internal back and forth. Infected lets out a small groan in response and turns to look at Pest instead, “h0w ab0u7 u, bugbr0??”
Pest grips the cinnamon roll he was holding in his hand a bit tighter at the question, some crumbs falling down to the tray below in consequence. He remained completely quiet at the offer.
Scag eventually broke the awkward silence, “...nightmarefilled blunt rotation”
“Why don’t you smoke outside instead? You’re trashy.” Pest finally spoke, his tone noticeably harsher.
“0H MY G0D BR4H y0u n33d a ch1ll p1ll-” Infected reacts before interrupting himself with a sudden sneeze, turning slightly onto his arm to do so.
Pest squints, reflectively grabbing the tray and pulling it a bit towards himself. “Don’t you DARE sneeze on my food.”
“1 D1DNT!!” He argues, “4ND ITS N0T Y0UR F00D BR4H! it5 f0r 4ll th3 gu3sts”
“No it’s not.” Pest answers, confidently at first, but then slightly turns his head towards Poob on his right side, eyes silently looking for confirmation.
Poob’s cheeks puff up as they hold a laugh, “pff- um, yeaaa thes rolls r all his!!”
“WOWWW fat bugmaxxer. WHAT who said that.” Scag adds, digitally snickering to herself. Pest just gives her an ugly look.
A fifth figure soon joins in the conversation. “My friend,” Wallter walks up to Infected, “Do you have the darts business figured out?”
“OH YEA DA DARTS” Poob answers in Infected’s place, “yea ill go get thm!!”
“That’s wonderful!” He replies, smiling. “Would any of you fancy joining us?”
“mmmmyea! dat sounds fun!!” They immediately accept, “do u want to join up scag?”
“SURECOREE lemme get protogoat” Scag accepts, turning around and rolling away to fetch him.
The party-goer cheered, before turning to their side, “wat abt u pest-! uh,,”
Upon turning, they’re greeted by a distinct lack of Pest to their side. He had completely vanished, and so did every cinnamon roll in that tray, suspiciously. “uhmm... pest?”
“br0 h3 ju5t w4lk3d aw4y” Infected indicated to the host, pointing towards the door he just left through; a hallway which led to their bedroom and one of the bathrooms. “y0u d1dnt n0t1c3??”
“no?? umm” Poob looked back with a raised eyebrow, internally debating his exact whereabouts and when/if he’d be back. “uhh... hah- yea its okey. he does dat sumtimes!”
Infected laughed, “wh4t3v3r br0!! ju5t g3t th3 d4rts”
“on itt!!” the party-goer smiled, walking off to fetch the darts as requested.
They looked through some of the kitchenette’s drawers until finding them, randomly stored beside unrelated cutlery. The rest of the players directed themselves a few feet away from the dartboard, which hung next to the storage room’s door.
Poob returned to the guests with a bright smile, fists full of colorful darts which they proceeded to carelessly throw on the empty table in the middle of the room. Scag also came rolling back into the scene with Prototype tagging along.
“Hmm. How about we let the host of this party take a gander first instead? Closest to bullseye goes first.” Wallter kindly suggested.
Poob accepted the opportunity, “YEAA watch dis!” they said, reaching out for a dart and steadying themselves in front of the board. “imma get dis soooo gud..”
They planted their feet firmly on the floor as they looked straight at the target. Their hand clenched the dart with the right amount of firmness as they slowly raised their arm beside their head.
Poob closed their left eye and stuck their tongue out slightly, the pupil on their right eye locking in on the bullseye.
Concentrated, they started to block out the noise of the dance party to the right of them.
They could feel the weight of the light dart on the tip of their fingers.
They even felt as if the target was inching closer towards them.
They took a small breath, turning the projectile at just the right angle... and lunged their arm forward.
SLASH.
Poob stabbed the wall harshly with the dart, as if they were wielding a dagger.
The sharp point tore through the colorful blue and yellow wallpaper, striking the wall behind it.
The impact sent a shiver up their spine, all the way up to their teeth, as the dart dug into the concrete with a harsh and ear-grating crunch.
They were half-expecting blood to start gushing out of the now-ragged paper, but all that came out was some white powder.
Poob let out a shaky whine, pulling the dart back out and turning to lay their back against the wall, before their knees gave up, unceremoniously dropping to the ground.
Their pupils darted all over their apartment. It was dark, bleak, silent. It felt abandoned. The floor was covered in food wrappers, confetti, chip crumbs, deflated balloons, a wrecked boombox that had fallen off the shelf, among other uncleaned and unswept garbage from the party that had happened... how long ago now?
Twenty-four hours? Forty-eight? Somewhere in between those numbers was more likely, they thought.
But Poob didn’t want to verify. They could quickly check the time on their phone, but something in their mind was telling them to not go near it.
The unread texts had been accumulating, and so were the missed calls, maybe two or three, or four... they weren’t counting.
They just remained curled up on the floor, eyes wide, feeling their own hand tremble as they clenched the dart so tightly that their nails were starting to pierce their own skin.
Poob could feel the bags under their eyes grow heavier, but they couldn’t be more awake than right now, their pupils locking onto the shadowy crevices of the apartment, like they were ready to fend off...
...they weren’t really sure what.
Whatever it was, it didn’t let them sleep. They hadn’t felt a mattress on their back in days, surviving off microsleeps, and hadn’t stepped outside of their apartment since the party either.
Poob quietly looked back at the wall they tore up, breathing heavily, before looking back away with a soft whine.
Why had they done that...? They already forgot. Did they see something?
Poob hugged their knees, half-burying their face in them, and remained in that position. Scatterbrain.
It felt like the minutes were beginning to blend together... until finally, something broke that dreadful monotony.
Poob flinched as a sudden noise broke through the silence. It was startling for a bit less than a second, but once they processed it properly, it cleared some of the fog in their mind.
It was a ringtone, and not the default one; it was the one they assigned to Pest’s contact.
Their head bobbed upwards to see their phone, placed on a countertop in the other side of the room, have its screen light up. Pest was calling.
Poob remained completely still for a few seconds, then with a shaky sigh, they began to crawl towards the counter.
Once there, they reached out for their cellphone and picked it up, refusing to get off the floor.
Eyes remained locked on the phone’s screen, which they hadn’t looked at in hours. Their attention diverted towards the relatively low battery, as well as the fact it was four in the morning.
They then looked back at the call screen. It was never good news if Pest decided to call them, it’d most likely be some conversation they’d rather not have. Yet... at a moment like this, hearing that ringtone was somehow grounding them back into reality.
Poob deliberated for a moment as they stared at their phone, trying to stabilize their breathing before finally accepting the incoming call and putting it up to their ear.
“...PartyNoob?” Pest’s voice came through the speaker, it sounded... anxious, almost.
Poob gulped, and answered with a quiet “...hallo...?”
“ったく… (“For fuck’s sake...”)” A frustrated, angry-sounding groan came through the speakers afterwards. “Where the HELL have you been?!”
“mm...my house...” they reply cautiously, “wats hapenign..?”
“It really pisses me off that you’re acting like you DON’T know.” Pest said, harsh. ”Quit that.”
Poob didn’t reply to that, just slumped slightly, trying their best to hold a broken whine in.
Pest could be heard scoffing as their silence stretched. “Tell me, do you know the doctor’s been calling you? And Melanie?!”
They took a sharp breath before trying to speak back to him, “i... y- yea...”
“Why have you not been replying? No one has seen you in days, you CAN’T just do that and you know it.”
“i- i can do dat...if i need to..”
“That’s- No-” a tired sigh, “You’re having Retro think you’ve been taken away! So she asked me to try and call you, now I have to be the one to deal with this. You think I want that?”
Poob held back another whine. “taekn away? y woud i be... who...”
“POOB. Get your head off the sand.” He scolds, only making Poob hug their knees tighter. “You know how this works, if you’re fine then you REPLY. Next step would’ve been to break into your apartment again and see if we find you, is that what you want?!”
They go without words for a second, before they finally snap back at him, their voice cracking as they do so, “GOSH- ITS ALWAYS WIT DA STUPID ‘PROTECTING ME’ STUFF!! i dont need checkups on me pest- jus leav me aloen! liek- i dun- i dont wanna scold u-!”
“You can scold me all you want, I couldn’t care less, same way I don’t care about your opinion on what we’re doing.” Pest replied coldly.
He followed with yet another scoff, “I’m too busy to deal with you right now Poob, don’t make this so difficult.”
The line went silent for a while after saying that.
Pest was holding his phone up to his eardrum using his shoulder, while he kept his hands busy with wiring work.
His mind was clouded, too many moving parts to his life at the moment, too little energy to keep track of them all; he really didn’t need another one.
He kept threading wires through a joint, stripping their ends and crimping tiny terminals onto them, completely mindless and automatic in the way his hands moved. The fact that he was in a phone call almost slipped through his mind.
But then he heard a whine from the other end, and then, those whines turned into muffled sobs.
His movements slowly came into a halt, his mandibles quaking involuntarily at the sound coming through the speaker.
Poob sniffed, then spoke “im- im sorryy-!” in a completely broken voice, before continuing with a loud, ugly cry.
Pest frowned, his cramping hands momentarily lifting off the work bench to hold his phone properly. “Poob.”
His name call didn’t seem to quell their breakdown, as they kept crying over the line.
Pest closed his eyes and quietly pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, frustrated, but more so at himself this time. The doctor always made this look so easy.
He composed himself just slightly before speaking into the phone again, “Poob. Listen.”
“Listen to me.”
“...Are you listening.”
Pest eventually got a response in the form of a broken “m- mmhm...” accompanied by the faint sound of shuffling. His upper mandibles twitched as he tried to navigate the situation.
He just did his best to remember what Retro usually did with him, then poorly and robotically paraphrased her advice, “...Breathe slowly.”
Pest was definitely missing a soothing tone, but Poob complied anyway as soft, broken breathing was beginning to be heard from the speaker.
“Wipe your eyes.” He continued, a permanent discomfort plastered on his expression now. “Just... keep breathing. Ground yourself. Focus on... five things you can see, or something.”
Poob breathed a bit slower, and let out one last shaky whine, “gosh pest- gh- imsosrry-”
“Shut up. Just breathe.” Pest replied sharply.
He heard a sniff, followed a faint “okey...”
The half-beetle sighed, he didn’t know if in relief, or because he was exhausted. Maybe both.
A necessary quiet took over the conversation, the only sounds coming through being Poob trying to steady their breathing as their cries died down. Pest idly looked back and forth between the phone and his unfinished work resting on the workbench.
After a tiny, quivering huff, Poob was the one to break the silence. “im- ...ive been having a rlly rough time..”
“...I can tell.”
“yea- nd i havnt left my hous for awhile...but- but noone took me, no. sry i worried u guys. mmh... pleas- pls be a bit...more gentle? pls.”
Pest quietly scowled, not appreciating the request even if he couldn’t blame them one bit.
He just ignored it and continued with an assessment, “Poob. When’s the last time you’ve slept.”
“i... i dont rly kno” they admitted quietly.
“Have you slept at all since the party.”
“im...i dont...wanna go into my bedroom anymor”
“...Okay.” He replied at their half-answer, subconsciously clenching his fist on his workbench as he tried to think of solutions.
“... gud party thoo... rite?” Poob continued on their own, their voice stabilizing a bit. “u shoud come more oftnnn pest”
Pest’s eyes narrowed at the topic switch. “Stay focused. Also, don’t tell me what to do.”
“its just a suggestionn!! plus if u come more oftn u can eat more of my bakign”
“...Did you eat anything recently.” He asks, his tone monotonous.
Poob seems stunned by that question for a bit, “ummm... um... abit? its fine...”
“Go get something from your fridge.” Pest suggests as he begins to settle his phone back on his shoulder. Huffing, he sets his hands on the workbench and tries to get back to what he was doing.
The party-goer hums, and mindlessly keeps on talking as Pest faintly hears a fridge opening. “...but yeaa it was fun, nd uuu didnt play or do anythign ther! but dats okey, i hav ppl dat only come for food at my partys all da tiem, soo.”
Pest pays no mind to whatever they’re saying and keeps flatly suggesting, “Once you’re done eating, hang up and go to sleep.”
Poob pauses a bit before replying to that, “..i told u i dont wanna go to my bedroom”
“Sleep elsewhere.”
“i-” Poob pauses for a moment, before softly requesting, “...can i come ovr?”
“I- What?” Pest questions, his hands pausing.
He doesn’t like the idea, but Poob insists, “...pls?”
He groans, “No. Stay at someone else’s place.”
“whose place? its 4am... only... only ur awaek, for sum reason”
“I can wake Retro up.”
“no- i dont wanna bother her!!”
“Yes because I’d be so unbothered if you came here...” He says, seeping with sarcasm. “She won’t mind, it’s her job. Let me call her-”
“nono- pest” Poob interrupts, “dont do dat. pleas”
“Why not.”
Their breath audibly hitches over the line, “...i jus wanna sleep at ur place.”
Pest’s hands inevitably stop mid-work again. He side-eyes the phone on his shoulder, a sinking feeling making itself present in his chest, “...I don’t let people in my den. I- Why do you want to be here anyways.”
“pest can u jus listen to me?” Poob shakily asks over the phone line.
He stays silent for a moment, slowly slouching over the table. His hand comes up to hold the phone properly again, “I’m not listening to a whim.”
A sigh comes through the speaker, followed by their response, “its not a whim. im... i rlly dont wanna stay at my apartmnt rite now, nd i want to be wit u so i can sleep. im srry.”
“What-” Pest rubs his free hand through his face in frustration, “What can I even do that the doctor can’t...?”
“i dunno- pest.” Poob insists, their voice quiet, “its jus wat i feel i need rite now. please.. i promis i wont bother u”
His frown widens, head turning down fully as all the paths seem to lead to him giving in.
His red eyes wander over the wiring he had been working on, noticing the little imperfections on his work. The last thing he needs is anyone coming to his home and making things worse, let alone Poob.
He adjusts the phone slightly, breaking that stretch of tense quiet, “...Do you know how busy I am.”
Pest waits for a response, but all he can hear is breathing.
He adds, “I can’t- ...I won’t do anything for you if you come, no food, no talking, I don’t know if you need medicine- I just won’t.”
Some quiet passes by again, before he hears them reply, “...okey. idont need medicine i think”
A quiet scoff comes out of his mouth, “I’m saying it’s a bad idea. For you to come.”
“i heard u tha first tiem”
Pest’s expression scrunched up at their response, a sudden surge of irrational anger finally bursting out as he lets out a groan, “FINE!”
“i- rly?” Poob replied, their voice perking up slightly.
“YES. Show up before I change my goddamn mind. このクソめんどくせぇ奴が。(“You fucking pain in the ass.”)” He replied with more venom that he really intended, taking the phone off his ear to hang up on them as fast as he could.
He carelessly and unceremoniously dropped his phone on his workbench to bring his hands to his head, clenching them there as a wave of regret hit them almost instantly.
It would’ve been so easy to wake Retro up instead and not listen to them, but whatever, the invitation was done.
The joint’s unfinished wiring sat there on the table, forgotten for a few moments, before Pest looked back down at it like it was mocking him. How was he ever supposed to finish this crap now? He lost every last bit of concentration.
Almost involuntarily, he turned his head to take a look at his place, which was in the same sorry state it was a few days ago. Thoughts of maybe doing something before their arrival came to his head uninvited; maybe sweeping a little, picking out something from the fridge for them, or seeing if there was anything appropriate for them to sleep on other than the floor.
He aggressively shook all of that off his mind and tried to resume his work, but he was completely out of it now.
Unfocused, his own fingers felt heavy, and he could feel the weight of his legs once again, the way they felt like they were about to give up on him.
Feeling tired is the last thing he wanted to feel at this moment.
He just drowned that out. Katsuwagata wouldn’t rebuild itself.
Time passed, Pest kept working, and eventually, he set the joint with the unfinished wiring work aside; he needed some extra spares.
He took a step back and trudged towards his pile of unorganized scrap to pick up a few voombas, bringing them with him back onto the workbench. He carefully set them down on the floor besides it, piling them up in a neat stack, then grabbing one to begin disassembling.
Picking up the screwdriver, he worked on removing the panel that protected the voomba’s inner workings. He could barely line his tool up properly with the screws through his blurred vision.
Going through four screws and getting the panel open, he heard the elevator’s ding soon enough.
Pest heard their footsteps get louder behind him, causing him to turn slightly.
“pest...!” Poob greeted them as they approached, smiling. They looked tired, but shockingly stable.
The half-beetle responded with a firm nod of acknowledgment, turning back towards his workbench to try and focus.
Poob looked around the place in wonder, as they saw the way the cavern-like place Pest lived in seemed to stretch upwards for miles. It felt special to be here, in a way.
All the debris and dust scattered about itched their curiosity, so quietly, they spoke, “...woud it b rude to ask questionss...?”
“Yes.” Pest replied sharply. The response made them chuckle, and thus, made Pest frown.
They innocently approached him as he worked on stripping the unit for parts, watching his workbench, “...wat r u doinn?”
“You promised you wouldn’t bother me.” He said, internally disturbed at just how much Poob’s mood seemed to improve in comparison to that phone call.
“was dat a bothersome question?” Poob asked sincerely, looking up at him.
“Yes.” Pest replied, not turning to face them. “Just go to sleep.”
The party-goer raised an eyebrow, then looked around the den, “...sleep wher?”
“I don’t know.”
“u dont kno??” Poob questioned, “is ther... anythign to sleep on? spare mattress?”
“There’s a log.”
“a wat?”
“A log.” Pest repeated, “Wooden log. It’s over there.”
Poob blinked, a bit confused. “...wait, so u got no bed?”
“こうなると思った… (“I knew this would happen...”)” He muttered under his breath. Reluctantly, he finally turned to face Poob, tossing the now emptied-out voomba to the floor. “I told you, I don’t take guests. You should’ve gone somewhere else.”
“um... mmh...” their eyes scanned the place again, for good measure. “yea... i dont think ill taek da log... plus, isnt dat where u sleep?”
Pest mindlessly picked up a second voomba to disassemble it. “Yes, but I’m not going to sleep, so.”
“wat? y not?”
“Take a guess.” He replied, starting to unscrew the unit’s panel open. “I need to keep working on this.”
Poob frowned, “...nd wat is dat?”
“None of your business.”
Pondering for a moment, Poob tilts their head, then approaches him at his workbench.
They got up beside him and watched him work, eyes darting back and forth between the voomba he’s unscrewing open and his expression. His eyes are half-lidded, his blinks look like they last longer than they should, and there’s a permanent frown on his expression.
Pest feels their presence and gives them an irritated side-glare, raising an arm to weakly push them off his side with a grunt.
They don’t protest the little shove, but they do look at him and insist, “ey... u do look tired, tho”
“Whatever.” Pest replies, dismissive.
“yea u aree... u shoud sleep too, rite..?”
He grunts at their insistence, “I shouldn’t.”
“yea u should..”
“Stop giving your input on things you have no idea of.”
“wat. r u forced to marathon on watevr dis is?” Poob questioned.
Pest huffed, gripping the screwdriver a bit tighter. “...It’s necessary.”
“...r u suree?”
“You’re asking as if you had any idea of what I’m doing, which you don’t. Shut up already.” Pest shot back.
Poob bit their lower lip for a second, their worry growing. Gently, they spoke, “...u askd me wat da last time i slept was earlier, but... wat was da last time u slept?”
Pest remained deadly quiet at that, his scowl widening as he refused to look anywhere but down at his workbench.
At his silence, Poob probed, “...pest? reply?”
“Mmh.” He murmured, “You didn’t reply to me when I asked that earlier, either.”
Poob pursed their lips at that, “um- wel, im goin to sleep rite now tho... but ur not”
“Whatever-” Pest groaned in frustration, “Quit it already! I told you I wasn’t going to speak to you. Go find a corner to sleep on or I swear I’ll wake the doctor to take you somewhere else.”
“ah-” they sealed their lips after his sharp threat, though the worry in their expression remained.
They couldn’t help but to keep watching him work, on the edge of sleep, as he tried to unscrew the same screw for the past minute already.
At one point, his fingers failed to coordinate for a split second and the screwdriver he was holding turned the wrong way, unceremoniously slipping off his hand to drop down on the wooden table.
“くそっ――！ (“Shit-!”)” He muttered under his breath, clumsily picking the tool back up while feeling like a vein in his head could pop. “Poob- Can you back off already?!” Pest scolded, “I’m getting distracted!”
Poob’s eyes widened slightly, “i- dont blaem me!! ur tired!”
“I’m-” He scoffs and shakes his head lightly, just continuing with unscrewing the panel, not arguing back.
Yet, they insist, “u kno ur jus gonna be slower wit ur work if u dont sleep...”
“I’m USED TO doing this-!” Pest insists yet again, his voice starting to sound less angry and more so shaky, “ほっといてよ、このバカ！ (“Leave me alone, you idiot!”)
Poob feels his breaking point near in his tone, and lets some silence pass on purpose, timidly clenching their own hands together.
Then, quietly, gently, they speak as they take a step towards him. “...im not going anywhere until u come wit me.”
Pest just grunts in frustration at their response.
And to make matters worse, he seems to have suddenly lost the dexterity to unscrew a damn voomba.
Seriously, what’s wrong with him?
He squints, carefully aligning and pressing the tip of his screwdriver into the tiny indentation, pressing against it hard to make sure it won’t slip off this time. He turns it clockwise- ...no, counter-clockwise, painfully slow...
...And then he feels a weight press down on his shoulder.
He goes stiff, and his tool fumbles out of the screw.
Poob presses their chin down on there, awkward, but with a certain tenderness to it.
“come on...” they mutter, “...u can continue aftr sleep”
A moment of silence passes before Pest protests “... Get... off.” while weakly trying to put the screwdriver back into the crevice.
Poob doesn’t reply, but instead, they slowly move towards him even further, letting their torso press against his back, still gentle in their movement. Pest remains visibly uncomfortable, both at the unwelcome contact... and how strong the pull to leave his workbench was starting to feel.
Seeing how he didn’t even make an effort to push them off, Poob carefully slid their left arm onto his waist, still somewhat unsure of their touch.
He grunted as he felt the way their palm slowly dragged along the cloth of his sweatshirt, as they held onto him so lightly.
Then, carefully, Poob raised their free hand up to his own, the one holding the screwdriver.
Their palm made thin contact with his exoskeleton, the tired half-beetle doing nothing to stop it but to stiffen further, as Poob cautiously wrapped their fingers around the tool he was holding.
“Stop...” Pest said, in whispers, each protest growing weaker.
Poob paid no mind to it, they just grabbed onto his hand, and very gently unclasped the screwdriver off of his rigid grip, before letting go of it.
The tool fell down onto the table, with it eventually rolling off to the ground with a metallic thud, as Pest’s tired eyes watch.
He remains still for a long, solemn moment, before at last, he closes his eyes and lets his head go limp in quiet surrender, letting both his arms rest on the workbench.
Poob remains present, pressing their cheek against his shoulder, their left hand holding onto his waist with a bit more confidence.
Pest feels their tender touch, and slowly, he lets his body loosen up for once, letting out a small, weary sigh.
“...I’m so tired.” He muttered.
Poob closed their eyes, “...me too”
The two remain at a standstill for a moment.
...They eventually pulled him back by the waist, gently, nudging him off of his workbench. This time, it goes without protest.
Pest grabbed onto Poob’s wrists to take their palms off of his waist, taking a single step backwards. His tired eyes lingered on his unfinished work for a moment longer before he retreated, trudging away, all the while Poob tagged along.
Walking towards the crevice in the wall he usually slept on, Pest eventually muttered. “...I can’t just leave Katsuwagata like that.”
Poob looked behind themselves to eye his workbench, then looked back at him. “yea... yea u can.”
“...You don’t understand.”
“...mm...i dont think i need to.”
Pest scowled at their words, eventually turning the corner towards the crevice; a dimly lit spot, nothing but a metal shelf, a log on the ground full of scratches and bite marks, and a billboard emitting the little light that was present.
His guest didn’t comment on any of it, nor when he fell to his knees and down to the floor, an arm lazily wrapping around the wooden log next to him.
His free hand went up to take his cap off, freeing some of the hair trapped inside it, before pressing his forehead against the bark.
Poob followed, untying the knot to their now-crooked party hat to set it aside, and flopping down on the floor, right beside him.
A moment of stillness passed, the both of them lying next to each other, little distance in-between, listening to the sounds of the ambiance bouncing between the cavern walls.
Neither of them were really smiling, just faint, exhausted expressions, with Pest facing the log and Poob facing the ceiling.
“...I thought you cared about sleeping on the floor?” Pest spoke, his voice reduced to mutters.
Poob shook their head slightly, “ive slept on wors places, iguess..”
The half-beetle hummed in acknowledgment.
Some silence followed before either of them spoke up again.
“...u put a lot of responsibility on urself, u know” Poob eventually whispered, turning slightly to look at him.
“Because I have to.” He replied, “...You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you. All you do is... run.”
“...bcuz i have to” Poob echoed.
Pest turned his head slightly away from the log, giving Poob a silent, unreadable look.
They looked up at his red eyes and, curling up slightly, they admitted. “...i dont even kno what im scared of, pest. or wat im supposed to be responsible for. i jus- ...i jus wanna live my life”
“...is dat so much to ask?”
His brow furrowed slightly at their words.
There was something uncomfortably familiar about the question. He knew what it was like to have something hanging over his head, something he didn't ask for. He'd just never avoided it the way they did to 'live his life', whatever that meant.
...And yet, looking at Poob now, with their solemn frown along with that shaky voice, he couldn't quite convince himself that they were wrong for wanting to.
After a silent exchange, he eventually questioned, “...Why haven’t you slept in days. Do you know?”
Poob replied with nothing but a silent shake of their head.
It was hard for him to admit how worried sick that made him.
He just stared for a moment, before turning his head back towards the log and closing his eyes. He didn’t want to acknowledge the pit he felt in his stomach, or address anything they were saying.
He heard the party-goer let out a slightly shaky sigh, only making him feel worse.
Then... he felt them press against his back. An arm wrapped around his torso, hugging him tightly.
Poob’s breathing was slightly labored, their body was quivering, and their face was partly pressed against the back of his neck.
“...im- im safe here... right, pest..?” they asked, a bit shaky.
Pest scowled at the unwelcome contact... but he didn’t move.
In fact, feeling them trembling on his back like that, his usual instincts betrayed him.
He didn’t say a word in response, but... he lifted his free hand to find theirs, pressed below his chest in that half-hug, and grasped it.
He felt their palm in his own, feeling the way it was shaking, and held it firmly.
Firm, reassuring, until the trembling gradually came to a halt.
It took a minute, but Poob’s breathing eventually turned slow, and their body went limp.
...Pest let go of their hand, to wipe away the tears that were prickling at his eyes, not making a sound.
He had time to regret whatever this was later.
For now, he just let that soft breathing lull his tired mind into a long, long sleep.