Oh. He...hadn't told Yamato about what he'd done, had he? Ideo turned his gaze to his own wrist, watching the tattoo move with the flexing of his muscles. He could remember very distinctly why he'd placed it there- even if it had been melodramatic at best.

"My father demanded that I would be the best of my class, and that nobody could surpass my intellect. As is often the case, my classmates did not appreciate a know-it-all. I wasn't well liked." That was an understatement, of course. Typically, Ideo couldn't talk about this stuff without crumpling in to an emotional heap, but this time he managed to keep himself just distant enough to not fall in to despair. "I was hated. I know why, logically, but I still don't feel I understand it. When my peers turned to physical torment, my father insisted I deal with it on my own. There was no power in the administration. Nobody would see what was clearly going on. When I was given that book, it was...so obvious what I needed to do."

He took a breath, pursed his lips, then continued. "I made my contract, and dragged the entire school to Makai. They were all guilty- and I was determined to return their abuse back tenfold."