Jyabura paced. He slammed a door shut. He snarled. He kicked a sofa so hard it crashed into the opposite wall and broke into splinters. He stopped in the middle of the room and flung his arm out in a random direction indicative of Lucci's perceived current whereabouts. He shouted "What has he got that I haven't got?" at the top of his lungs.

Kaku, the sole occupant of the room who wasn't an enraged wolf zoan, did not reply, because he knew better than to try to give Jyabura answers at a time like this. He crossed one leg over the other and sipped his coffee.

Jyabura paced some more, disregarding the lack of response. "Huh? What does he got? He's got a jacked-up Douriki level and a pet pigeon. Bastard. You know what she said to me?" He pointed at Kaku, furious. "You know what she said? She said 'All a guy has is looks'. That's what she said to me. She said that to me." He jabbed a thumb at himself and resumed pacing. "Like I'm ugly! Like he's a fuckin' Adonis, she said that to me, what the hell does that even mean? Sociopath freak."

Kaku watched Jyabura pace, drinking his coffee in silence and wondering how long this particular tirade would last. At least Fukurou wasn't here to rile him further, or Blueno to try and talk him into submission, which only ever made him angrier.

"'All a guy has is looks', she said. She says it like I'm fucking ugly. Like that makes him better than me." He rounded on Kaku again. "Is he better-looking than me?" But he didn't wait for a response. "Stupid alley cat. You know what? Fuck it if he's better-looking than me, who gives a shit? Why does it matter? Like that's the only redeeming quality it's possible to have? Fuck that." He stopped pacing and put his hands on his hips, glaring at the floor. "Fuck that," he repeated, quieter than before. "I'm a better person than he is," Jyabura continued, gesturing in the same direction as before and looking at Kaku as if for confirmation. "If you can even call him a person to begin with. The bastard doesn't even have emotions, does he?" The pacing continued. "Yeah, he'll snap and kill somebody, but does he even get angry? He's just being a psycho."

Kaku finished his coffee and placed it carefully on the end table, making sure that it didn't clink and interrupt Jyabura's invective. Another hour or so, he estimated.

"You ever see him actually get mad?" Jyabura asked, livid. "No, me, I get mad. I don't just get mad, either, I get mad and I mean it, like you killed my fucking mother. That's anger, goddamnit. Oh, and is he ever happy? Hell no; the freak doesn't even smile unless he's eviscerating something. I can be happy! You've seen me be happy! Why? Because normal fucking human beings can be happy. And she likes him better than me!" He kicked a chair. It sailed across the room and smashed into a bookshelf. "You know what? If she wants an emotionless creepy fucker she can have him. I can do better than that. Can't I do better than that?"

At this point, Kaku wanted to respond, but he didn't, even though Jyabura was looking at him somewhat desperately. After a moment, though, Jyabura continued his pace and his diatribe.

"Hell yeah I can," he muttered. "Better than some, some fucking waitress. She can keep him." There was an angry pause filled by the pounding of bare feet on linoleum. "And he doesn't even like her! He doesn't even fucking care! Like she doesn't exist! Like she's not good enough. Fuck him. He's crazy and he's got no taste, and why does she like him better than me? What makes him so fucking special? What has he got that I haven't got?"

Kaku found himself looking at his foot and just waiting. These outbursts were taking place more and more often, and Kaku, the patient one, was getting tired of them. He wanted Jyabura to shut up about the waitress, perhaps for more than one reason.

"Sociopath," Jyabura muttered, traversing the length of the room for what could have been the hundredth time. "Bastard. Loser. Witless, psychotic, murderous freak. Housecat." He gripped the edge of the coffee table and flipped it so that all of its contents tumbled off and smashed on the floor. This done, he wilted, standing in the middle of the room and looking rumpled and defeated. "Everyone thinks he's better than me. Everyone fucking likes him better than me."

There was a long pause, and Kaku, sitting on the one intact piece of furniture in the room, looked at a crack in the floor and said, almost under his breath, "Not everyone."

Jyabura's head snapped up and he stared at Kaku, but his cap was pulled down over his face. "What?"

"I said," Kaku began, and dared to look up, "'Not everyone'."

Jyabura squinted suspiciously at his coworker's unreadable expression. "Yeah?" he asked.

"Yes," was all Kaku said. Jyabura put his head on one side, stared, and then walked up and kicked the front of Kaku's chair lightly.

"The hell's that supposed to mean?" he asked. Kaku glared up at him with uncharacteristic animosity; it was the sort of expression that said You are responsible for everything that is wrong with me and if you know what's good for you, you'll fix it. Jyabura balked and tried to match the glare, but found himself mostly unable due to having ranted out most of his fury.

"It means," said Kaku, emphasizing the words as if he considered Jyabura the most incompetent fool to have ever lived, "that you are an unobservant, self-absorbed, posturing lunatic with a severe inferiority complex whom I find myself wanting to quietly dispose of on good days and who seems to have no idea when to just shut up, and no, I really don't think that Lucci is better-looking than you are."

He was angry. Jyabura was taken aback. "You–"

"Yes," Kaku snapped, cutting him off. "Me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere else to be." He stood up and pushed past Jyabura, heading for the door.

Jyabura thought frantically, attempting to fit everything together in his mind and make it work on very limited amount of information. Eventually, and just before Kaku left the room, he managed to reach a conclusion. "Hey," he called.

Kaku stopped, against his better judgment. The door was three feet away and he didn't know why he wasn't leaving yet until Jyabura said "I was right."

"What?" Kaku said, and looked back over his shoulder at Jyabura, who seemed conflicted and out of his element.

"I can do better than her," he said, not quite making eye contact.

Kaku looked back at him in silence for a moment. At length, he smirked slightly and said "Yes, you can," before leaving the room.

Jyabura stood alone in the decimated room, looking around at the wreckage, and eventually declared "I need coffee" to no one in particular. He wandered off to get some, deciding that he felt better after a tirade than he had in years.