[ It doesn't come immediately. Only after a heavy silence as the gravity of Akira's words settles over him until it becomes oppressive.
It's quiet. Sincere. Far from the cloying tone used back in their reality.
He opens his mouth, draws a breath as if to speak further. Closes it. Considers.
Akira mentioned that the last time they saw one another was in March. He lived beyond the dissolution of Maruki's reality, and then he appeared here. Alongside Akechi? Or was Akechi already in the city? Had they somehow seen one another back in the true reality before their reunion here? Or was Akechi from a different time, just as Maruki is? One before their battle, perhaps. One where his future still hung in a dubious balance.
To then be brought into a reality against his will, again... Maruki can only imagine how furious that Akechi would have been here. Too furious to live with the person holding his fate in two cupped palms?
Or perhaps he was from even earlier. Before Masayoshi Shido's Palace, even. How would it feel for Akira, as he is now, burdened with such knowledge of what's to come, to see him again so unquestionably alive? Would that Akechi, still posturing at being rivals, deign to live with him?
There are countless other options. It's impossible to know. Reality is already a mutable thing; reality in a place like 7, doubly so. Anything could have happened, anything at all.
There's only one way to find out, but it feels rotten to ask.
Akira is good at hiding his true pain. Always has been. And Maruki is good at finding the few fine, hairline fracture thin cracks to catch a glimpse anyway.
Another breath. ]
You don't have to answer this. If you don't want to, tell me so and we'll drop it. No explanation needed and no further questions asked.
[ He means it. Hopefully Akira can hear just how much he means it.
Maruki's hands are folded together in front of him on the counter, the thumb of one running methodically over the knuckles of the other. Steadying, grounding. ]
thrashes around to dislodge your teeth so i can DO THE SAME TO YOU
[ It doesn't come immediately. Only after a heavy silence as the gravity of Akira's words settles over him until it becomes oppressive.
It's quiet. Sincere. Far from the cloying tone used back in their reality.
He opens his mouth, draws a breath as if to speak further. Closes it. Considers.
Akira mentioned that the last time they saw one another was in March. He lived beyond the dissolution of Maruki's reality, and then he appeared here. Alongside Akechi? Or was Akechi already in the city? Had they somehow seen one another back in the true reality before their reunion here? Or was Akechi from a different time, just as Maruki is? One before their battle, perhaps. One where his future still hung in a dubious balance.
To then be brought into a reality against his will, again... Maruki can only imagine how furious that Akechi would have been here. Too furious to live with the person holding his fate in two cupped palms?
Or perhaps he was from even earlier. Before Masayoshi Shido's Palace, even. How would it feel for Akira, as he is now, burdened with such knowledge of what's to come, to see him again so unquestionably alive? Would that Akechi, still posturing at being rivals, deign to live with him?
There are countless other options. It's impossible to know. Reality is already a mutable thing; reality in a place like 7, doubly so. Anything could have happened, anything at all.
There's only one way to find out, but it feels rotten to ask.
Akira is good at hiding his true pain. Always has been. And Maruki is good at finding the few fine, hairline fracture thin cracks to catch a glimpse anyway.
Another breath. ]
You don't have to answer this. If you don't want to, tell me so and we'll drop it. No explanation needed and no further questions asked.
[ He means it. Hopefully Akira can hear just how much he means it.
Maruki's hands are folded together in front of him on the counter, the thumb of one running methodically over the knuckles of the other. Steadying, grounding. ]
What point in time was he from?