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CH 20

You stand in the middle of Ego's disaster of a room, a cloth mask strapped over your nose and mouth like you're preparing for biochemical warfare. In some ways, it is biochemical warfare-against the absolute horror that is Jinpachi Ego's living conditions.

You glare down at the battlefield before you. Empty instant noodle cups stacked in a precarious tower on his desk. Random socks-unmatched socks-tossed in corners like they were part of some weird ritual. And the worst part? Hair. Strands of hair just everywhere.

"What the actual hell, Ego?!" You groan, shoving an overflowing trash bag aside as you use a pen to poke at what used to be a plate but is now an unidentified biohazard. "Are you secretly running a science experiment in here? What even is this?!"

You hear the unmistakable sound of Ego typing away at his computer from the other room, completely ignoring your suffering.

"You're exaggerating," he calls out, his voice as monotone as ever.

"Exaggerating?! I just found a sock inside a noodle cup, Ego! Do you eat with your feet or something?!" You toss the cursed object into the trash with a shudder, muttering under your breath about health code violations.

You cautiously lift another pile of crumpled-up tissues and-yep. More hair. You don't even want to know.

"This is inhumane," you mumble dramatically, grabbing the vacuum cleaner like it's a weapon of justice. "This isn't just a mess, it's a crime scene. This place needs an exorcism."

Just as you're about to vacuum under his desk, your foot accidentally kicks something hard. You look down. A mysterious box.

You narrow your eyes.

"Please tell me this isn't a collection of more instant noodle cups."

Ego finally leans into the doorway, looking completely unbothered. "Don't touch that."

"Oh? So now you care about cleanliness? You let this place rot for months but suddenly this box is sacred?" You cross your arms, a smirk creeping onto your face. "What, is it full of secret Ego memorabilia? A wig collection? Fan letters from yourself to yourself?"

Ego just stares at you, unimpressed. "Are you finished?"

"No," you say, pointing an accusing finger at him. "I am traumatized, Ego. If I get an infection and die because of this mess, my ghost is haunting you forever."

He shrugs. "At least then, you'd be useful."

You dramatically clutch your chest. "Wow. Wow. I come in here, risk my life cleaning this dumpster fire, and this is the thanks I get? Unbelievable."

Ego sighs, adjusting his glasses. "If you have enough energy to complain, you have enough energy to keep cleaning."

You groan loudly, throwing yourself back into the mess. "This is why people think you're a villain, Ego."

...................‌‌....‌‌...............‌...

Finally. Finally.

You let out a long, satisfied sigh, placing your hands on your hips as you admire your masterpiece. Ego's room, once a living biohazard, was now sparkling clean-like a miracle had occurred. The air didn't feel toxic anymore, and you could breathe without fearing for your life.

"I am a goddamn legend," you mumble proudly, wiping imaginary sweat off your forehead.

But of course, your moment of triumph is short-lived.