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[ There was a time when Maruki visited the Enchanted Garden fairly frequently. Curiosity about new arrivals drove him – a desire to help, to be the one to gentle them into a new reality. Even if none appeared, it still was time well spent. He and Akechi had theorized early on in their partnership that areas of particularly concentrated cognitive manipulation, such as the garden, ought to be watched carefully. Maruki has spent countless days there, whiling away the afternoon, taking notes and seeing what he could see.
That habit dropped off a couple months ago. Settling into life in Somnius has meant getting close to people, spending time with them, and his hours of solitude dwindled as a result. Then there were the time rifts, and the closure of his office, and being flung into the war-torn future, and Eren's return – sustained, ever-shifting chaos followed by a period of rest that could only be classified as extremely necessary.
Subaru's return changes things.
It shakes Maruki. He's glad for the return of someone who was becoming a friend. Glad Subaru remembers all his time in Somnius as clearly as if he'd never left. Glad he and Eren have been reunited.
But he'd never expected it. People return, yes, but rarely. He knew Eren would return, yes, because he's Eren. Anyone else–
He has to wonder if there's something happening. Some wavering weakness in the cognition that created this world to hold them all in captivity. He has to wonder if next he'll see Adam, or Vash, or Mikasa.
It isn't hope that brings him back to the Enchanted Garden again, day after day. It isn't curiosity, either. It's only cautious dread.
And for a few days, it yields nothing. He shows up to find the garden empty, sticks around for a few hours and witnesses nothing for enough days in a row that it begins to feel like a sense of security. He's ready to write his gut feeling off as paranoia, free up his afternoons again, but something compels him to keep it up just a bit longer. A week, minimally, just to be sure.
It's there, seated amongst the flowers with his journals and his phones, that he looks up to see a figure so familiar, he could be forgiven for thinking his own cognition has finally broken cleanly in half and spilled out every buried distorted desire, every repressed pain in the shape of the person he's missed most.
His heart thrashes in his chest like birdwings against the bars of a cage. An instant wave of relief that crashes over him and leaves him so dizzy that it feels like nausea instead.
Tall, even with his shoulders slightly hunched. Messy hair, perfectly clean glasses. Missing a bag over his shoulder with a cat, but undeniably, inexplicably, blessedly: ]
Kurusu-kun.
[ He hasn't called that name in half a year.
Maruki feels himself standing before he's realized he's going to. The journals tumble out of his lap, the phones, both landing softly in the grass. His hands at his sides feel numb, and he reaches one out before him as he takes a step forward. ]
You're...
[ It could be a manipulation. A trick Somnius is playing on him for letting his guard down.
If it is, it's one he falls for without hesitation. His expression shifts from blank shock to a smile so wide that it aches, eyes crinkling up with warm delight, a soft and disbelieving laugh escaping. ]
It's really you.
[ My guiding light. ]
That habit dropped off a couple months ago. Settling into life in Somnius has meant getting close to people, spending time with them, and his hours of solitude dwindled as a result. Then there were the time rifts, and the closure of his office, and being flung into the war-torn future, and Eren's return – sustained, ever-shifting chaos followed by a period of rest that could only be classified as extremely necessary.
Subaru's return changes things.
It shakes Maruki. He's glad for the return of someone who was becoming a friend. Glad Subaru remembers all his time in Somnius as clearly as if he'd never left. Glad he and Eren have been reunited.
But he'd never expected it. People return, yes, but rarely. He knew Eren would return, yes, because he's Eren. Anyone else–
He has to wonder if there's something happening. Some wavering weakness in the cognition that created this world to hold them all in captivity. He has to wonder if next he'll see Adam, or Vash, or Mikasa.
It isn't hope that brings him back to the Enchanted Garden again, day after day. It isn't curiosity, either. It's only cautious dread.
And for a few days, it yields nothing. He shows up to find the garden empty, sticks around for a few hours and witnesses nothing for enough days in a row that it begins to feel like a sense of security. He's ready to write his gut feeling off as paranoia, free up his afternoons again, but something compels him to keep it up just a bit longer. A week, minimally, just to be sure.
It's there, seated amongst the flowers with his journals and his phones, that he looks up to see a figure so familiar, he could be forgiven for thinking his own cognition has finally broken cleanly in half and spilled out every buried distorted desire, every repressed pain in the shape of the person he's missed most.
His heart thrashes in his chest like birdwings against the bars of a cage. An instant wave of relief that crashes over him and leaves him so dizzy that it feels like nausea instead.
Tall, even with his shoulders slightly hunched. Messy hair, perfectly clean glasses. Missing a bag over his shoulder with a cat, but undeniably, inexplicably, blessedly: ]
Kurusu-kun.
[ He hasn't called that name in half a year.
Maruki feels himself standing before he's realized he's going to. The journals tumble out of his lap, the phones, both landing softly in the grass. His hands at his sides feel numb, and he reaches one out before him as he takes a step forward. ]
You're...
[ It could be a manipulation. A trick Somnius is playing on him for letting his guard down.
If it is, it's one he falls for without hesitation. His expression shifts from blank shock to a smile so wide that it aches, eyes crinkling up with warm delight, a soft and disbelieving laugh escaping. ]
It's really you.
[ My guiding light. ]
["I wish I could see him, one last time... The person I failed the most."
It spirals out from his mind to his fingertips to his lips, from an owl to clouds, from waking to dreaming, and into a garden that's impossibly beautiful. Not just the beauty itself is impossible; he's almost certain that he's never seen flowers like these before, but maybe Haru...
...
This... isn't the train heading back home. This isn't where he fell asleep, and at his shoulder-
Morgana? Akira doesn't say it out loud, just barely, but his hands grasp desperately for a bag that isn't there. But there isn't even time for any panic to set in, because someone is-
Kurusu-kun.
A voice full of recognition. A voice full of affection. A voice full of joy. A voice, that in another life, would've struck a bowstring in a heart that would sing too many emotions to name.
In this one, it matches a face that Kurusu Akira does not know.
Middle-aged adult, someone that knows his family name. Akira's hackles raise, his shoulders stiffen, even as his voice is carefully forced into Shujin-politeness.]
...Have we met before?
[That should be safe enough, at least until he figures out who this is.]
It spirals out from his mind to his fingertips to his lips, from an owl to clouds, from waking to dreaming, and into a garden that's impossibly beautiful. Not just the beauty itself is impossible; he's almost certain that he's never seen flowers like these before, but maybe Haru...
...
This... isn't the train heading back home. This isn't where he fell asleep, and at his shoulder-
Morgana? Akira doesn't say it out loud, just barely, but his hands grasp desperately for a bag that isn't there. But there isn't even time for any panic to set in, because someone is-
Kurusu-kun.
A voice full of recognition. A voice full of affection. A voice full of joy. A voice, that in another life, would've struck a bowstring in a heart that would sing too many emotions to name.
In this one, it matches a face that Kurusu Akira does not know.
Middle-aged adult, someone that knows his family name. Akira's hackles raise, his shoulders stiffen, even as his voice is carefully forced into Shujin-politeness.]
...Have we met before?
[That should be safe enough, at least until he figures out who this is.]
[A text appears-
And he blinks to see his own reflection staring back from a screen that blacked itself out an indecipherable amount of time ago. The text is brought back up - time sent at XX:XX. The current time - much later.
There is nothing in this reality, or in his own, that Akechi Goro isn't prepared for.
A fire creeps under his feetentangles itself in his chest, around every rib Until it strangles the last bit of air from his body.
Akechi Goro is prepared for anything and this is no exception. From the second he arrived in this world, he knew it was a possibility that a problem would follow. Time is insignificant. Death is irrelevant. It doesn't matter what color Akechi painted the walls in a dimly lit room because -
Akechi is prepared for anything. He shakes the
And it's a friend. And it's a friend. And he's a friend. And Kurusu Akira is supposed to be a friend. In June he was a friend. In November he was an ally. In November he was a rung in a ladder. In November Akechi could barely think, can't think now, thinks harder than he ever has and-
Sits up.
Checks his phone - pulls up the family tracking app that became a necessity after weeks surrounded by perpetual darkness and enthrallment. They're close. Walking here at a steady clip. Kurusu Akira.
He reads the text again. Settles on a story - then two. One for Kurusu Akira and one for Kurusu. A trusted confidant to spend hours with at Jazz Jin or Phantom Thief - a teenager's justice on full display for The Detective Prince to judge.
A third
Akechi is an artist too. An actor. Akechi Goro can match whatever Kurusu Akira is.]
And he blinks to see his own reflection staring back from a screen that blacked itself out an indecipherable amount of time ago. The text is brought back up - time sent at XX:XX. The current time - much later.
There is nothing in this reality, or in his own, that Akechi Goro isn't prepared for.
A fire creeps under his feet
under his skin
Akechi Goro is prepared for anything and this is no exception. From the second he arrived in this world, he knew it was a possibility that a problem would follow. Time is insignificant. Death is irrelevant. It doesn't matter what color Akechi painted the walls in a dimly lit room because -
it's him.
And it's always him. And it will always be him. And those colors will fly high into the sky, fade into obscurity, and Kurusu Akira will always stand in its washed out remains.Akechi is prepared for anything. He shakes the
skull fragments from his memory
Akechi is prepared for anything. He wipes away thethe drip, drip, drip of blood plopping against the tile.
Akechi is prepared for anything. Hecoats a corpse in a beautiful, iridescent veneer
And pretends there's a 'friend' instead.And it's a friend. And it's a friend. And he's a friend. And Kurusu Akira is supposed to be a friend. In June he was a friend. In November he was an ally. In November he was a rung in a ladder. In November Akechi could barely think, can't think now, thinks harder than he ever has and-
Sits up.
Checks his phone - pulls up the family tracking app that became a necessity after weeks surrounded by perpetual darkness and enthrallment. They're close. Walking here at a steady clip. Kurusu Akira.
He reads the text again. Settles on a story - then two. One for Kurusu Akira and one for Kurusu. A trusted confidant to spend hours with at Jazz Jin or Phantom Thief - a teenager's justice on full display for The Detective Prince to judge.
A third
For the inevitable
For when he comes in swinging - with a knife, with a gun, with fists that will connect against his flesh. Create streaks of blue and purple along his skin like splatters of paint and that's fine because-Akechi is an artist too. An actor. Akechi Goro can match whatever Kurusu Akira is.]
[And Akechi Goro is ready to feign anything he needs to when he hears a door slide open at the Machiya entrance.
And Akechi Goro is ready to see aAn enemy. A 'friend' when that mass of fluffy black hair appears in the doorway.
And Akechi Goro can't breathe so Akechi does and Akechi Goro can't think so Akechi does. Steady. Smooth. An air of cautious optimism around him, curated from nothing because the situation needs to be felt out. Kurusu isn't stupid. He's dangerous. He's observant, intelligent, and has a natural edge to him born from his soul. Something Akechi wants. Tried to emulate. Had to practice, over and over and-
He tries to pretend For a second. That he's happy to see a 'friend'.
It isn't all fake. Something coats his chest - it feels like Robin Hood. He knows better to recognize it's not. Chooses to smother it the second it lights up.
Maruki is there, and then he isn't. In the seconds of stunned silent that follow-
It's only them.
It's only them.
It's only them.]
Oh, Kurusu. Maruki-san sent a message you appeared. I could hardly believe it, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised - you always did find a way to surpass expectations. Your appearance isn't unwelcome, though you have sympathies for being pulled into this.
And Akechi Goro is ready to see a
corpse
And Akechi Goro can't breathe so Akechi does and Akechi Goro can't think so Akechi does. Steady. Smooth. An air of cautious optimism around him, curated from nothing because the situation needs to be felt out. Kurusu isn't stupid. He's dangerous. He's observant, intelligent, and has a natural edge to him born from his soul. Something Akechi wants. Tried to emulate. Had to practice, over and over and-
He tries to pretend
For a minute
It isn't all fake. Something coats his chest - it feels like Robin Hood. He knows better to recognize it's not. Chooses to smother it the second it lights up.
Maruki is there, and then he isn't. In the seconds of stunned silent that follow-
It's only them.
It's only them.
It's only them.]
Oh, Kurusu. Maruki-san sent a message you appeared. I could hardly believe it, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised - you always did find a way to surpass expectations. Your appearance isn't unwelcome, though you have sympathies for being pulled into this.
Edited 2024-11-08 23:03 (UTC)
MEAN TO ME CW: violent thoughts, murderous intent, murder, gore, emeto mention
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
enteloki
- 2024-11-12 05:31 (UTC) - Expandyou're mean to ME, going to bed at a NORMAL TIME like a NORMAL PERSON
arsenist
- 2024-11-12 13:15 (UTC) - Expandcw: VIOLENT THOUGHTS - GOES TO BED EARLIER OUT OF SPITE, NEVER STOPS SLEEPING, NEVER RELENTS
enteloki
- 2024-11-13 00:48 (UTC) - Expandi will simply have to destroy my sleep schedule even more so i can GET YOU
arsenist
- 2024-11-14 04:35 (UTC) - Expandmutual destruction of sleep schedules for tags 👉👈 for 👉👈 little treats 👉💣👈
enteloki
- 2024-11-14 05:05 (UTC) - Expandthe 💣 really does perfectly encapsulate what opening this tag felt like
arsenist
- 2024-11-14 06:32 (UTC) - Expandyeah well maybe this is the one dont look any further than this line - cw:murder
enteloki
- 2024-11-15 04:30 (UTC) - Expandhere queen u dropped ur cw: murder (jk there's still none in mine)
arsenist
- 2024-11-17 04:42 (UTC) - Expandoh thank u puts it back up on the shelf cw: MURDER CONTINUED
enteloki
- 2024-11-17 05:38 (UTC) - Expanda great spot... now they can see it every time they have dinner :)
arsenist
- 2024-11-19 15:25 (UTC) - Expandcw: murder, violent thoughts, suicidal ideation MAYBE??? yay 🔫🔫🔫🔫🔫🔫🔫🔫🔫
enteloki
- 2024-11-24 01:51 (UTC) - Expand:) :) :) i get to do it now too :) cw: nightmares, blood, physical assault
arsenist
- 2024-11-29 04:42 (UTC) - Expand... And with that, we draw this game to a close. Checkmate.
[ A tap, a taken king, and a smug grin. ]
Your opening moves weren't bad, but your play after that could only generously be said to be on a novice level.
[ Though he doesn't care all that much; rather, Dazai likes to see how people respond in these situations. It tells him more about the person than simply speaking with them might. So, he withholds whatever his true feelings might be for now.
Besides, it's as good of a way to kill time as any.. There's only so much to do here, after all, and so he'd roped his newest acquaintance into visiting the coffee shop with him before promptly springing on him that they would be playing chess.
He's setting the pieces back into place, gesturing for Akira to do the same now. ]
Wanna play again?
[ A tap, a taken king, and a smug grin. ]
Your opening moves weren't bad, but your play after that could only generously be said to be on a novice level.
[ Though he doesn't care all that much; rather, Dazai likes to see how people respond in these situations. It tells him more about the person than simply speaking with them might. So, he withholds whatever his true feelings might be for now.
Besides, it's as good of a way to kill time as any.. There's only so much to do here, after all, and so he'd roped his newest acquaintance into visiting the coffee shop with him before promptly springing on him that they would be playing chess.
He's setting the pieces back into place, gesturing for Akira to do the same now. ]
Wanna play again?
Edited 2024-11-09 04:02 (UTC)
[Akira hates to lose, but "hate" is a strong way to put it. It's more that when he does, it lights a fire under his feet - a competitive streak to do everything within his power to try again until he wins.
Akira looks up, and his eyes are glimmering brightly.]
Yeah. Let's go again.
[His hands dart out to start rearranging the pieces; not just his own, but Dazai's too.
Akira lost, but he isn't mad. Since he arrived here, all of the good and bad things mixing together and punching him in the gut over and over... This is the most alive he's felt in days. It's the most himself he's felt in days.
He thinks he's almost happy.]
I only started to play chess so I could have matches with my previous opponent, so I still have a lot to learn.
[Chess is a nice window to another person, too. Akira is still learning Dazai, but what he can already tell is that he's almost frighteningly intelligent.]
Akira looks up, and his eyes are glimmering brightly.]
Yeah. Let's go again.
[His hands dart out to start rearranging the pieces; not just his own, but Dazai's too.
Akira lost, but he isn't mad. Since he arrived here, all of the good and bad things mixing together and punching him in the gut over and over... This is the most alive he's felt in days. It's the most himself he's felt in days.
He thinks he's almost happy.]
I only started to play chess so I could have matches with my previous opponent, so I still have a lot to learn.
[Chess is a nice window to another person, too. Akira is still learning Dazai, but what he can already tell is that he's almost frighteningly intelligent.]
[ It's grief, isn't it? As fresh as he's ever known. Every day he wakes up and remembers all over again that the Akira he knows is lost to the vagaries of time and reality, that the one here first looked at him as if he were a stranger, and that great chasm in the pit of his heart yawns open.
Every day, though, it's the tiniest bit narrower.
Maruki has lived with this before. It ruined him, and he ran from it. He's a different man now, though.
Sometimes he wonders how the Maruki who stumbled into the Enchanted Garden in May would have dealt with this. In six months, Akira will be different too.
Still, though– he sets it aside. For the sake of their nascent friendship, and for the sake of Akira alone. Especially today.
He'd let Akira know to come back to the machiya for lunch. After so much time hermiting, Akechi is back to being gone for most of the day to go about his little routines, so he knows they'll have privacy.
He's working on the dashi when Akira returns, turns around from the stove to wave at him. ]
Hey there. Come have a seat.
[ There's a long bar counter overlooking the kitchen that they eat their meals at, nine times out of ten. Maruki will wait until he's sat at it to smile, wide and warm. ]
Happy birthday. I hope you don't mind this being part of your gift.
Every day, though, it's the tiniest bit narrower.
Maruki has lived with this before. It ruined him, and he ran from it. He's a different man now, though.
Sometimes he wonders how the Maruki who stumbled into the Enchanted Garden in May would have dealt with this. In six months, Akira will be different too.
Still, though– he sets it aside. For the sake of their nascent friendship, and for the sake of Akira alone. Especially today.
He'd let Akira know to come back to the machiya for lunch. After so much time hermiting, Akechi is back to being gone for most of the day to go about his little routines, so he knows they'll have privacy.
He's working on the dashi when Akira returns, turns around from the stove to wave at him. ]
Hey there. Come have a seat.
[ There's a long bar counter overlooking the kitchen that they eat their meals at, nine times out of ten. Maruki will wait until he's sat at it to smile, wide and warm. ]
Happy birthday. I hope you don't mind this being part of your gift.
[Akira doesn't think much of it at first. It's not unusual that Maruki is cooking; he wouldn't be surprised if it's second nature for him, having lived with Akechi for some time. He's a counselor, and the adult in the house besides. Akira hasn't really offered to cook much yet, because it feels... wrong to intrude on such a normalcy like that. So when he's asked to sit, he doesn't question it.
Until he hears the words that follow.
His entire body locks up, stunned like he's been zapped with a Zio. He can't remember the last time anyone said that to him. Akira never told Sojiro or the Phantom Thieves. So then...]
I- No, but- [He doesn't know how to handle being at a total loss for words. Akira sometimes chooses not to talk, but he doesn't get thrown in that particular way very often. Maruki seems to be accomplishing that a lot, however.] ...How did you find out my birthday?
[Maruki knows his birthday. He never even told Morgana his birthday.
He doesn't remember how he spent his 17th birthday, what he did that day or who he talked to. Most likely he spent it the same way he did all of those days leading up to his arrest - adrenaline thrumming through his veins at the thought of his access, or nausea twisting his gut at the thought that very soon he would be dead.]
Until he hears the words that follow.
His entire body locks up, stunned like he's been zapped with a Zio. He can't remember the last time anyone said that to him. Akira never told Sojiro or the Phantom Thieves. So then...]
I- No, but- [He doesn't know how to handle being at a total loss for words. Akira sometimes chooses not to talk, but he doesn't get thrown in that particular way very often. Maruki seems to be accomplishing that a lot, however.] ...How did you find out my birthday?
[Maruki knows his birthday. He never even told Morgana his birthday.
He doesn't remember how he spent his 17th birthday, what he did that day or who he talked to. Most likely he spent it the same way he did all of those days leading up to his arrest - adrenaline thrumming through his veins at the thought of his access, or nausea twisting his gut at the thought that very soon he would be dead.]
[Akechi Goro does his research. That is an irrefutable fact. He is above the law, above everyone, and it was a simple feat to learn Kurusu Akira's basic information. Birthday included.
He took him out that day back then - offered to spend time with him, only a week before Akechi would place a bullet into his skull.
They can hardly do that here. This shithole has the amenities of rural peasant town in the 1600s. Dolph's club is the closest thing to Jazz Jin, a place he visits when the music shifts from heart pounding to calming, but-
This is Akira. This isn't his Akira. Akechi acknowledges this Akira, but there's too many missing points between, uncrossed paths, worlds split at the seam where they were once bound.
It's not his Akira, so a sacred spot will remain that way. An offer to take him typed, then deleted. An offer to go to the bathhouse typed, and deleted.
It's his Akira because every Akira is one he wants to unravel and destroy. It doesn't matter if he thinks Akechi needs saved after surviving an attempted murder by him or if he ends up dead in a cellar.
He sends a message - quick and polite.
I left a gift inside your bedroom this morning - oh, I didn't peek around the room, if you're concerned about that. I wanted to make sure the cats didn't get into it. I have business to attend to most of the day, but-
Perhaps tonight we could take a walk.
And inside the room, pressed against the wall to the right of the door is:
A dagger.
A small red notebook made by some shitty gelfling in the town square. Homemade, but durable. A pen rests on top.]
He took him out that day back then - offered to spend time with him, only a week before Akechi would place a bullet into his skull.
They can hardly do that here. This shithole has the amenities of rural peasant town in the 1600s. Dolph's club is the closest thing to Jazz Jin, a place he visits when the music shifts from heart pounding to calming, but-
This is Akira. This isn't his Akira. Akechi acknowledges this Akira, but there's too many missing points between, uncrossed paths, worlds split at the seam where they were once bound.
It's not his Akira, so a sacred spot will remain that way. An offer to take him typed, then deleted. An offer to go to the bathhouse typed, and deleted.
It's his Akira because every Akira is one he wants to unravel and destroy. It doesn't matter if he thinks Akechi needs saved after surviving an attempted murder by him or if he ends up dead in a cellar.
He sends a message - quick and polite.
I left a gift inside your bedroom this morning - oh, I didn't peek around the room, if you're concerned about that. I wanted to make sure the cats didn't get into it. I have business to attend to most of the day, but-
Perhaps tonight we could take a walk.
And inside the room, pressed against the wall to the right of the door is:
A dagger.
A small red notebook made by some shitty gelfling in the town square. Homemade, but durable. A pen rests on top.]
Edited 2024-11-16 21:03 (UTC)
[It's been... a strange day. An unprecedented one. Akira doesn't quite know what to do with the weight of the feelings in his chest and their impossibility. Even before any of his arrests, he can't remember the last time he's spent a birthday the way he had with Maruki early. He'd thought that would be the end of it, but there's someone in this house he should never, ever underestimate.
The lull of having him alive again makes Akira forget, sometimes.
A message wrapped around a request. A notebook to fill his thoughts with, when speaking any of them is something he's simply unable to do. A dagger, real and sharp and with a heft that sets his heart beating faster even as it reassures.
He doesn't know what to make of it all. But it doesn't change Akira's response.]
Let's go. I'll meet you outside of the machiya when you get home.
[Two people who shouldn't know his birthday have asked for his time today. Maruki at least owned up to why he knew the date, but Akechi... Akechi shouldn't know it at all. Akira never told anyone else, and Akechi has no student file to glean, so it has to be...
A coincidence, which Akira doesn't believe in the slightest. Everything Akechi Goro does is for a reason. Because Maruki told him, which Akira is inclined to believe the most. It would make sense, especially if he wanted to make Akira's day enjoyable. But the third option...
A wedge of possibility. Of doubt. He doesn't know what Akechi's forgotten... but what he might remember is something far more daunting.
Akira doesn't linger on it. Can't, because a familiar figure approaches and his time has run out. His mind must be clear, calm, and-
Welcome home. [Those words- He can't let it sit like that on its own, because it's too close-] Did you need anything from inside?
[His voice is calm, easy. The dagger is tucked into his pocket. Akira's got this.]
The lull of having him alive again makes Akira forget, sometimes.
A message wrapped around a request. A notebook to fill his thoughts with, when speaking any of them is something he's simply unable to do. A dagger, real and sharp and with a heft that sets his heart beating faster even as it reassures.
He doesn't know what to make of it all. But it doesn't change Akira's response.]
Let's go. I'll meet you outside of the machiya when you get home.
[Two people who shouldn't know his birthday have asked for his time today. Maruki at least owned up to why he knew the date, but Akechi... Akechi shouldn't know it at all. Akira never told anyone else, and Akechi has no student file to glean, so it has to be...
A coincidence, which Akira doesn't believe in the slightest. Everything Akechi Goro does is for a reason. Because Maruki told him, which Akira is inclined to believe the most. It would make sense, especially if he wanted to make Akira's day enjoyable. But the third option...
A wedge of possibility. Of doubt. He doesn't know what Akechi's forgotten... but what he might remember is something far more daunting.
Akira doesn't linger on it. Can't, because a familiar figure approaches and his time has run out. His mind must be clear, calm, and-
No matter what way he means it, Akira cannot fail again.]
Welcome home. [Those words- He can't let it sit like that on its own, because it's too close-] Did you need anything from inside?
[His voice is calm, easy. The dagger is tucked into his pocket. Akira's got this.]
[ BB doesn't know where he is for the time being, and BB would like to keep it this way for now. The gap between Master and Servant would have to close eventually, but for now, she wanted to keep her mysteriousness over him.
The sound of her voice echoes through his head; it feels like an subconcious voice speaking to him - but it is clearly not his own and is BB's, coming from elsewhere, far away. ]
Ne, ne... Master. Don't be alarmed, it's BB-chan she wants to talk briefly. If that is alright with you? I can't see where you are, I can only communicate with you this way... So don't go being stupid on me, okay ~ ♡?
The sound of her voice echoes through his head; it feels like an subconcious voice speaking to him - but it is clearly not his own and is BB's, coming from elsewhere, far away. ]
Edited 2024-12-12 00:27 (UTC)
[Akira's been through a lot of outlandish things. Even before he had, he's always been the type to roll with the punches. It's why he hadn't taken much issue with it when his soul manifested as a gentleman thief demon. Supernatural powers had garnered a little surprise, a little confusion, but it hadn't been the end of the world. Even waking up here, despite some emotional strain, hadn't thrown Akira for a loop. It simply takes a lot to throw him off.
The girl he's tied himself to speaking in his head is somehow enough to fall into that category, however.
Akira starts out lying on his bed, but the start of BB's voice speaking has him flailing, rolling, and by the time she's finished he's caught himself on the floor.]
BB. If I just think something, can you hear me? Can you... hear all of my thoughts?
[It shouldn't be surprising, really; it's not the first time someone's spoken in his mind. But he's also never had it happen while resting in his room.]
The girl he's tied himself to speaking in his head is somehow enough to fall into that category, however.
Akira starts out lying on his bed, but the start of BB's voice speaking has him flailing, rolling, and by the time she's finished he's caught himself on the floor.]
BB. If I just think something, can you hear me? Can you... hear all of my thoughts?
[It shouldn't be surprising, really; it's not the first time someone's spoken in his mind. But he's also never had it happen while resting in his room.]
[ Akira will wake up Christmas morning to a small box waiting outside his bedroom door. Maruki knows he went pretty overboard for his birthday, so this time around his gifts are more subdued.
Inside the box is a one of a kind cat mug, crafted specially at the pottery shop before the natives shuttered their businesses to dreamers, along with a note: ]
Merry Christmas, Kurusu. This year, take a break and take your time.
Inside the box is a one of a kind cat mug, crafted specially at the pottery shop before the natives shuttered their businesses to dreamers, along with a note: ]
Merry Christmas, Kurusu. This year, take a break and take your time.
[ This gift comes with only To: Akira
It has no form address and doesn't seem to be distinguishable in any way... Looks like a secret present. It is given to him via Mouse Courier... ]
Obtained
x1 Cat Keychain
It has no form address and doesn't seem to be distinguishable in any way... Looks like a secret present. It is given to him via Mouse Courier... ]
[ Dazai doesn't take any particular pride in being the Port Mafia's youngest ever executive. In fact, he thinks about it less than anyone, and the same could be said of his circumstances. He has no love for being the one to hold these difficult conversations.
Such as it is, Dazai called Akira over to the little coffee shop in Somnius. Their cold shoulder serves his purpose well here. They have no interest in anything those around them say or do, keeping such distance that one might think they were disease-ridden rats, while others were discouraged from coming here. As for Dazai, well - after offering the right amount, he had at least managed a pair of cups of batch pour alongside condiments.
That tucked away in a corner where a chessboard sits, the pieces ready for a new game. He picks up the king, shaking it a couple times.
Now isn't the time to comment on it, but he has found Akira to be a quick study when it comes to this game, but in a way that's different from how quickly Dazai picks up on things. There's something pleasant about it. ]
BB-san told me that you're her new master.
[ Dazai says, getting to the point. He sets the piece down. ]
Such as it is, Dazai called Akira over to the little coffee shop in Somnius. Their cold shoulder serves his purpose well here. They have no interest in anything those around them say or do, keeping such distance that one might think they were disease-ridden rats, while others were discouraged from coming here. As for Dazai, well - after offering the right amount, he had at least managed a pair of cups of batch pour alongside condiments.
That tucked away in a corner where a chessboard sits, the pieces ready for a new game. He picks up the king, shaking it a couple times.
Now isn't the time to comment on it, but he has found Akira to be a quick study when it comes to this game, but in a way that's different from how quickly Dazai picks up on things. There's something pleasant about it. ]
BB-san told me that you're her new master.
[ Dazai says, getting to the point. He sets the piece down. ]
[It's so unexpected that Akira's entire body goes rigid.
The thing he should never speak of to anyone. The secret Akira is supposed to protect at all costs.
The café is cold, but it isn't what's frozen his hand in its path to holding one of the pieces, centimeters away before he ever got to grasp one. That's a tell it's too late to hide. At the least, no one else is watching them - there's only Dazai, before him, and cutting straight to the heart of it all.
Dazai has been kind. Akira calls him "senpai", and when they get together it feels like it. He has not forgotten the look on his blood-covered face, and the way something strange crept through his heart from it.
Akira has chosen to put trust in the person that could easily take him down... and it seems that BB has, too.
His shoulder unwind.]
...That's right. [He folds his hand over the table, doesn't give himself the opportunity to fidget with any small objects.] She must trust you if she told you. She said I should avoid telling anyone, or even letting on that I know her.
"Us knowing each other? We don't."
"When her powers come back, you'll be the first to know."
"When her powers come back, you'll be the first to know."
The thing he should never speak of to anyone. The secret Akira is supposed to protect at all costs.
The café is cold, but it isn't what's frozen his hand in its path to holding one of the pieces, centimeters away before he ever got to grasp one. That's a tell it's too late to hide. At the least, no one else is watching them - there's only Dazai, before him, and cutting straight to the heart of it all.
Dazai has been kind. Akira calls him "senpai", and when they get together it feels like it. He has not forgotten the look on his blood-covered face, and the way something strange crept through his heart from it.
Akira has chosen to put trust in the person that could easily take him down... and it seems that BB has, too.
His shoulder unwind.]
...That's right. [He folds his hand over the table, doesn't give himself the opportunity to fidget with any small objects.] She must trust you if she told you. She said I should avoid telling anyone, or even letting on that I know her.
[ The blame for how long it's taken them to get together since Akira and Dolph's first meeting can be laid squarely on Maruki's shoulders. He's a busy man, pulled in a dozen directions at any given time! Besides– it feels more natural now than it would have before, after the time he spent in that crystal alcove with both of them.
They sit at the dining bar overlooking the kitchen while Akira cooks, and Maruki leans sideways to knock his shoulder against Dolph's metal one, smiling at him hugely. ]
I should tell you, now that you know where this place is, you're welcome any time! You know that I want you here, and Akechi wants you here– and now Kurusu does too! It works out nicely, doesn't it?
They sit at the dining bar overlooking the kitchen while Akira cooks, and Maruki leans sideways to knock his shoulder against Dolph's metal one, smiling at him hugely. ]
I should tell you, now that you know where this place is, you're welcome any time! You know that I want you here, and Akechi wants you here– and now Kurusu does too! It works out nicely, doesn't it?
[ dryly: ] Akechi said that, did he?
[ still, the warmth that comes from those words spreads all over. he's wanted here. being wanted is still a bizarre experience to wrap his head around. dolph ducks his head slightly as he nudges maruki's shoulder in turn. ]
I guess this is what domesticity looks like.
[ still, the warmth that comes from those words spreads all over. he's wanted here. being wanted is still a bizarre experience to wrap his head around. dolph ducks his head slightly as he nudges maruki's shoulder in turn. ]
I guess this is what domesticity looks like.
[Akechi won't win.
The thought hangs over his head like a guillotine blade, bloodied and strung up by the tiniest worn thread.
He won't win because Kurusu Akira was always destined to. Their battlefield has no borders. Their war didn't end in the interrogation room. Didn't stop after a crystalline wall laid truths bare for two people who would never let those secrets slip otherwise. A brilliant, sparkling truth among vile, crimson memories.
The sprawling grass in a false world doesn't suit this moment. This isn't a spot he's supposed to fight Akira and the thought leaves a sour taste on his tongue. Robin Hood ready. Loki burning in this chest. A dagger in one hand, a gun pressed against his hip. The weapon doesn't fit right in his palm, no matter how many times he uses it in battle. A sword is better. He lacks such a thing in a world where he needs to keep up a charade.
But in battle, against this man, he doesn't. When he stares down Kurusu Akira, it takes everything in him to maintain even the barest neutrality.
He's furious. Wants nothing more than to rip apart any pleasantries between them. Wants to make him regret shared meals in the Machiya, at the curry contest where they both snuck away for a moment to eat in a quiet, comfortable harmony that isn't rare between them, despite a persistent animosity.
Akechi won't win, but it's not about the battle.
Akechi will win because he's going to destroy Kurusu Akira at his core.
Akechi will win because Akechi sees kindle to burn in the smoke filled eyes across from him and he's never been afraid to scorch the earth.]
There's a thought that's always stuck in my mind - how things may have turned out if we had only met a few years sooner-
[A coil of spiraling blue moves around his legs and body - Robin Hood or Loki aching and burning to unleash hell on the world around them. Neither appears yet. Akechi's making a decision based on what might come out of Akira's once seemingly endless arsenal.]
It almost sounds like a wish, doesn't it?
[A flutter of wings - owl, dove. Akechi can't remember now. Only pristine bathroom tile and the taste of bile fresh on his tongue.]
But it's not. No matter where we end up, no matter what reality we meet in, this is an inevitable outcome between us. I can't say the thought displeases me.
[Blood doesn't pour down his face - hasn't. Not since the first time he accepted a fight against an unjust world. The sensation lingers on like a phantom anyway. He presses his fingers against his forehead, waits and-]
Make the first move, Joker. You deserve that much for winning our last gamble with that shitty trick.
The thought hangs over his head like a guillotine blade, bloodied and strung up by the tiniest worn thread.
He won't win because Kurusu Akira was always destined to. Their battlefield has no borders. Their war didn't end in the interrogation room. Didn't stop after a crystalline wall laid truths bare for two people who would never let those secrets slip otherwise. A brilliant, sparkling truth among vile, crimson memories.
The sprawling grass in a false world doesn't suit this moment. This isn't a spot he's supposed to fight Akira and the thought leaves a sour taste on his tongue. Robin Hood ready. Loki burning in this chest. A dagger in one hand, a gun pressed against his hip. The weapon doesn't fit right in his palm, no matter how many times he uses it in battle. A sword is better. He lacks such a thing in a world where he needs to keep up a charade.
But in battle, against this man, he doesn't. When he stares down Kurusu Akira, it takes everything in him to maintain even the barest neutrality.
He's furious. Wants nothing more than to rip apart any pleasantries between them. Wants to make him regret shared meals in the Machiya, at the curry contest where they both snuck away for a moment to eat in a quiet, comfortable harmony that isn't rare between them, despite a persistent animosity.
Akechi won't win, but it's not about the battle.
Akechi will win because he's going to destroy Kurusu Akira at his core.
Akechi will win because Akechi sees kindle to burn in the smoke filled eyes across from him and he's never been afraid to scorch the earth.]
There's a thought that's always stuck in my mind - how things may have turned out if we had only met a few years sooner-
[A coil of spiraling blue moves around his legs and body - Robin Hood or Loki aching and burning to unleash hell on the world around them. Neither appears yet. Akechi's making a decision based on what might come out of Akira's once seemingly endless arsenal.]
It almost sounds like a wish, doesn't it?
[A flutter of wings - owl, dove. Akechi can't remember now. Only pristine bathroom tile and the taste of bile fresh on his tongue.]
But it's not. No matter where we end up, no matter what reality we meet in, this is an inevitable outcome between us. I can't say the thought displeases me.
[Blood doesn't pour down his face - hasn't. Not since the first time he accepted a fight against an unjust world. The sensation lingers on like a phantom anyway. He presses his fingers against his forehead, waits and-]
Make the first move, Joker. You deserve that much for winning our last gamble with that shitty trick.
[The February air has just enough of a chill to keep him alert, bright. It's an unfamiliar playing field, even as all of the familiarity of being across from Akechi Goro snaps into place. It's been over a year, and it still feels like yesterday.]
How gentlemanly of you.
[They are in the casino; they are in the Engine Room; they are seated across from each in Leblanc, in the machiya, with a chessboard between them. White goes first. The first player has the advantage. What reason does Akechi have to let him go first?
To see what you can do, is what he feels in his gut. It's wrong sometimes, but it doesn't usually lead him astray.
Akechi doesn't know that Akira has seen Loki, though he may have made the calculation for it. Akechi doesn't know what Akira has right now, what he's wished for. They both know the other has lived through Sae's Palace; they both know that Akechi is aware of what Akira is capable of at his full potential.
Akechi doesn't know what he has wished for, here in this world, and his surest path to victory is figuring out the answer to that as quickly as possible. Akira's best course of action is to keep him guessing for as long as humanly possible.
This, too, isn't so different. Knowing too much and not enough about each other has always been their way, even in the life that Akira lived as his truth.
He doesn't make a move forward, not yet. Not with his weapon nor his Persona. He circles instead as he speaks, never taking his eyes off of Akechi.]
I've wanted this for a long time. [It's the truth, so he deploys it deliberately. His words are just as much a part of the battle.] When I woke up here, I wondered if the reason I ended up in this place was for this. I wondered if maybe it was fate, or if this was the result of me fighting so hard to overturn that fate.
[It's a blade wedged between his own ribs, never removed. It doesn't hurt any worse than than the one that's already been unknowingly thrown at him, the same words that haunt his own dreams lodged deep in his stomach.
how things may have turned out if we had only met a few years sooner-
Does Akechi even know he's already drawn first blood?]
A shared wish to fight again, and a shared wish we had met sooner. [Akira is almost perfectly aligned at Akechi's side now, even with gap of several feet stretched between them.] What do you think? Is it a fixed outcome, or something we willed into being with our own hands?
How gentlemanly of you.
[They are in the casino; they are in the Engine Room; they are seated across from each in Leblanc, in the machiya, with a chessboard between them. White goes first. The first player has the advantage. What reason does Akechi have to let him go first?
To see what you can do, is what he feels in his gut. It's wrong sometimes, but it doesn't usually lead him astray.
Akechi doesn't know that Akira has seen Loki, though he may have made the calculation for it. Akechi doesn't know what Akira has right now, what he's wished for. They both know the other has lived through Sae's Palace; they both know that Akechi is aware of what Akira is capable of at his full potential.
Akechi doesn't know what he has wished for, here in this world, and his surest path to victory is figuring out the answer to that as quickly as possible. Akira's best course of action is to keep him guessing for as long as humanly possible.
This, too, isn't so different. Knowing too much and not enough about each other has always been their way, even in the life that Akira lived as his truth.
He doesn't make a move forward, not yet. Not with his weapon nor his Persona. He circles instead as he speaks, never taking his eyes off of Akechi.]
I've wanted this for a long time. [It's the truth, so he deploys it deliberately. His words are just as much a part of the battle.] When I woke up here, I wondered if the reason I ended up in this place was for this. I wondered if maybe it was fate, or if this was the result of me fighting so hard to overturn that fate.
[It's a blade wedged between his own ribs, never removed. It doesn't hurt any worse than than the one that's already been unknowingly thrown at him, the same words that haunt his own dreams lodged deep in his stomach.
how things may have turned out if we had only met a few years sooner-
Does Akechi even know he's already drawn first blood?]
A shared wish to fight again, and a shared wish we had met sooner. [Akira is almost perfectly aligned at Akechi's side now, even with gap of several feet stretched between them.] What do you think? Is it a fixed outcome, or something we willed into being with our own hands?
stares at the sun. cw: violent thoughts, violence, idk don't ready this if u dont wanna see a fight
enteloki
- 2025-02-08 02:00 (UTC) - Expandcw: blood, violence, stabbing; smacks ur face with a d1 til it does something
arsenist
- 2025-02-18 11:30 (UTC) - Expandcw: blanket its a fight thread so fight things happening roll
enteloki
- 2025-02-19 19:23 (UTC) - Expandthese are gonna help Future Yama when she has to bank a single proof for three lines of cws (d19 <3)
arsenist
- 2025-02-20 04:12 (UTC) - Expandlisten sometimes the (cws) are the (friends) we made along the way. d3 lol
enteloki
- 2025-02-26 01:46 (UTC) - Expandd**20**???????????? i can't believe akechi goro is freakin dead in february
arsenist
- 2025-05-11 11:47 (UTC) - ExpandUpon your doorstep/mailbox/table or whatever! However delivery in this world works. The details don’t matter.
Before you is a gift, chocolate, and a letter.
“Dear Akira Kurusu,
My preparations are complete. All clear on my end.
I’ve prayed for victory and will gladly put my life on the line for it.
Whenever you are ready, make the first move and call for me.
I await your determination to have a fair one-on-one duel.
The challenge is the best match out of three.
Track & Field.
Basketball.
Karaoke.
From,
Hakuno Kishinami
P.S. It would make me happy if you accepted my gifts. ”
Despite how manly this “Challenge Letter” is, it’s not a challenge letter but an invitation to hang out. Hakuno Kishinami might have just psyched herself a bit too much. She might just end up embarrassing herself later down the road, so please just play along with her.
This was the first time she had ever given out chocolate, so she decided to make it memorable.
Despite how over the top this might be.
[ Akira Kurusu received a Gucci(?) glasses case & a kitkat. ]
Before you is a gift, chocolate, and a letter.
“Dear Akira Kurusu,
My preparations are complete. All clear on my end.
I’ve prayed for victory and will gladly put my life on the line for it.
Whenever you are ready, make the first move and call for me.
I await your determination to have a fair one-on-one duel.
The challenge is the best match out of three.
Track & Field.
Basketball.
Karaoke.
From,
Hakuno Kishinami
P.S. It would make me happy if you accepted my gifts. ”
Despite how manly this “Challenge Letter” is, it’s not a challenge letter but an invitation to hang out. Hakuno Kishinami might have just psyched herself a bit too much. She might just end up embarrassing herself later down the road, so please just play along with her.
This was the first time she had ever given out chocolate, so she decided to make it memorable.
Despite how over the top this might be.
[ Akira Kurusu received a Gucci(?) glasses case & a kitkat. ]
Akira, are you okay? Does your stomach hurt? Is your throat okay?
Are your glasses still on your face?
Did my chocolate do this to you? I'm so sorry, I swear I didn't open the wrapper!
[ Oh sweet Hakuno, it wasn't you. It was the world but she doesn't know that. ]
Are your glasses still on your face?
Did my chocolate do this to you? I'm so sorry, I swear I didn't open the wrapper!
[ Oh sweet Hakuno, it wasn't you. It was the world but she doesn't know that. ]
[Don't worry - his mind is as sharp now as it will ever be. Is it because of Dazai's curry, or the fact he might be dying at Akechi's hand in a few hours? It's a mystery.]
Your curry, right? I tried it.
I think it's amazing. My mind has been clear ever since the first spoonful.
Your curry, right? I tried it.
I think it's amazing. My mind has been clear ever since the first spoonful.
Hey, Akira-kun.
Do you have a moment to talk?
Do you have a moment to talk?
[ At some point during the week, Akira receives an invitation:
One gets the impression that if you go against his wishes to bring something anyway, it might stress him out...
When the mingle log goes up on the 22nd, please feel free to come tag around! ]
I'll be hosting a dinner party on March 22 and would love to see you there!
Feel free to come to the Horizons farmhouse any time after 5 PM.
Please do not bring anything! No food, no drinks, nothing but your presence. I appreciate the thought, but for me, the joy of this is being able to cook for a group of people, and I would like to handle it myself.
Hope to see you there!
Dr. Maruki
One gets the impression that if you go against his wishes to bring something anyway, it might stress him out...
When the mingle log goes up on the 22nd, please feel free to come tag around! ]
[ One of many things Maruki hopes to bring back to the true reality is this: Sincere effort put into spending more time with Akira outside of a counseling office. Chatting, getting to know one another, simply enjoying the company. Sometimes they read or journal more than they speak, content in the silence together.
It took forming a bond that wasn't built on Maruki's own distorted heart for a deep friendship to bloom. Even a guiding light doesn't begin to touch upon what they've found here. His own Akira means so much more to him now, and has never felt farther away.
Maybe this is something they can only have here. This is a place where hope shines through the bars of the cage, after all. But god, he'll try to pay it forward when he returns to where he belongs.
He idly rolls his iced Americano between his hands, condensation from the glass coating his palms as they chatter on. ]
I was hoping to get your input on that, if you don't mind. Admittedly, I'm still not sure if I can continue on with cognitive psience back home, but if I can, I'd like to look int–
[ The words don't trail off so much as die instantly on his tongue. His eyes roved away from Akira as he spoke, up to the ceiling of the little cafe in Stellari that they've come to favor, then over to glance out the window–
And that's where they stay. Widening behind the thick lenses of his glasses, pupils contracting, heart hammering up into his dry throat.
It's unmistakable. He would know her anywhere. Tall and graceful, close-cropped red hair shining in the early spring sun–
Eyes bright with recognition when they land on his.
Maruki says nothing. Only stares with an expression that begins to creep into horror as the woman in the bustling crowd of the city starts to approach the window. ]
It took forming a bond that wasn't built on Maruki's own distorted heart for a deep friendship to bloom. Even a guiding light doesn't begin to touch upon what they've found here. His own Akira means so much more to him now, and has never felt farther away.
Maybe this is something they can only have here. This is a place where hope shines through the bars of the cage, after all. But god, he'll try to pay it forward when he returns to where he belongs.
He idly rolls his iced Americano between his hands, condensation from the glass coating his palms as they chatter on. ]
I was hoping to get your input on that, if you don't mind. Admittedly, I'm still not sure if I can continue on with cognitive psience back home, but if I can, I'd like to look int–
[ The words don't trail off so much as die instantly on his tongue. His eyes roved away from Akira as he spoke, up to the ceiling of the little cafe in Stellari that they've come to favor, then over to glance out the window–
And that's where they stay. Widening behind the thick lenses of his glasses, pupils contracting, heart hammering up into his dry throat.
It's unmistakable. He would know her anywhere. Tall and graceful, close-cropped red hair shining in the early spring sun–
Eyes bright with recognition when they land on his.
Maruki says nothing. Only stares with an expression that begins to creep into horror as the woman in the bustling crowd of the city starts to approach the window. ]
[To be able to sit with Maruki and speak to him like this... no matter how many times he does it, it's a gift. It's a privilege. For both of them, it's a good thing; Akira is able to answer questions that Maruki has had unanswered for far too long, and he can speak freely of the Metaverse things that have stagnantly sat in his mind. If they can help each other even a little... that makes him happy, too.
An answer is at his lips. Something he must choose carefully. The Conspiracy will never look kindly on someone continuing to poke around in cognitive psience, and he doesn't know what sort of support Maruki will have. Maybe Akechi, because Akira's already resolved to not let things end in this world. Surely Akira, because he can't imagine any version of himself that would simply leave any version of Maruki to fend for himself against them... But he also wouldn't have the power to stop himself from being forced back to Hitachi...
Maruki stops mid-sentence. An abrupt cutoff. It's his first indication that something is wrong, even if Akira doesn't recognize it as such at first.]
Sensei...?
[Akira almost looks at whatever Maruki is staring at, but the undeniable sign that something is wrong is swifter.
He's seen it enough on others' faces to know what it is, but he's never seen it on Maruki's like this. Once, almost, in a hazy, bloody memory - but even then, it wasn't like this.
Akira's heart clenches before it picks up speed.
He looks afraid.]
Maruki-sensei. [Akira is already standing, not wasting any time. A threat. Something he needs to protect him from. He can already feel Joker's mantle sliding over him before he even turns to see.] Let's get somewhere safe. You can tell me what's happening after-
[Akira looks.
And feels his face twist in confusion.
Outside stands a woman with bright eyes and brighter red hair. She stares directly at Maruki, seeming entirely focused on him. She's not the enemy he's expecting, and even though he should know better than to drop his guard in this world- he does, a single perplexed word leaving him.]
Who...?
An answer is at his lips. Something he must choose carefully. The Conspiracy will never look kindly on someone continuing to poke around in cognitive psience, and he doesn't know what sort of support Maruki will have. Maybe Akechi, because Akira's already resolved to not let things end in this world. Surely Akira, because he can't imagine any version of himself that would simply leave any version of Maruki to fend for himself against them... But he also wouldn't have the power to stop himself from being forced back to Hitachi...
Maruki stops mid-sentence. An abrupt cutoff. It's his first indication that something is wrong, even if Akira doesn't recognize it as such at first.]
Sensei...?
[Akira almost looks at whatever Maruki is staring at, but the undeniable sign that something is wrong is swifter.
He's seen it enough on others' faces to know what it is, but he's never seen it on Maruki's like this. Once, almost, in a hazy, bloody memory - but even then, it wasn't like this.
Akira's heart clenches before it picks up speed.
He looks afraid.]
Maruki-sensei. [Akira is already standing, not wasting any time. A threat. Something he needs to protect him from. He can already feel Joker's mantle sliding over him before he even turns to see.] Let's get somewhere safe. You can tell me what's happening after-
[Akira looks.
And feels his face twist in confusion.
Outside stands a woman with bright eyes and brighter red hair. She stares directly at Maruki, seeming entirely focused on him. She's not the enemy he's expecting, and even though he should know better than to drop his guard in this world- he does, a single perplexed word leaving him.]
Who...?
this sucks this sucks please feel free to skip ahead this SUCKS
placation
- 2025-05-09 08:18 (UTC) - Expandi would say nothing's stopping u but he wasn't here in april, so
arsenist
- 2025-05-14 10:44 (UTC) - Expand[ They've met in many places by now.
There's the cafe. Dazai had set up a chessboard for them there with such regularity now that it was barely moved. It was their table, and if it was disrupted then he always had some replacement, but it was theirs. That's how their lessons went. Opening strategies. The middle. The endgame. Dazai was as perfect as a hypothetical opponent as a real one. The latter was far more occasional, barely even on request, just every now and again, just that one little reminder of what the upper limit is.
His chess matches are perfect. There's no winning against him.
But Dazai, as his senpai, states only that chess is won and loss based on mistakes. If played perfectly on both sides, it will always end in a draw.
He wants a draw.
But none of that is here today. He's sitting on the stump of a tree, checking his fingernails with a bored expression. Their lessons aren't forgotten. They're there in his mind, and Dazai frowns as he thinks on this and that, and how he wants to offer further instruction. Akira is as sharp as he thought him to be.
All of that, and none of it, because he's forgetting so much of importance. He knows that. He thinks it as he checks the back of his fingernails, as he stretches out his arm and inspects them with his fingers splayed out. There's something more to this. There's someone else that he should be meeting here.
But there's not. There is. There's not. It doesn't matter if there is or not, because he knows that he doesn't want what comes of this to leak out. It's something that should be kept between them, carried by the faint breeze and whispered amongst the shivering leaves and branches of the trees, lost long before it can reach human ears.
That's what it is. But he is prepared all the same. There's a box on his lap, which his hands are folded over. A box which contains all the pieces for chess. And pressed above that, held tight, a deck of cards, and his expression is so dead and empty that one might think he were a corpse sitting upon this place. Dazai isn't always emotional, but this is different even so - his slight smile is fixed in place, but his eyes are dark, a pair of black holes that sucks in and consumes even the slightest hint of life.
They'll move somewhere else. This is just a meeting spot. But it's their meeting spot. It's where he's chosen today, on some whim, and he stares ahead without any interest at all.
Dead. Vacant. Empty. All consuming. Watching. His fingers drum against the stack of cards, and there's a little hum, and that gaze seems darker and deader still.
Such as it goes. ]
There's the cafe. Dazai had set up a chessboard for them there with such regularity now that it was barely moved. It was their table, and if it was disrupted then he always had some replacement, but it was theirs. That's how their lessons went. Opening strategies. The middle. The endgame. Dazai was as perfect as a hypothetical opponent as a real one. The latter was far more occasional, barely even on request, just every now and again, just that one little reminder of what the upper limit is.
His chess matches are perfect. There's no winning against him.
But Dazai, as his senpai, states only that chess is won and loss based on mistakes. If played perfectly on both sides, it will always end in a draw.
He wants a draw.
But none of that is here today. He's sitting on the stump of a tree, checking his fingernails with a bored expression. Their lessons aren't forgotten. They're there in his mind, and Dazai frowns as he thinks on this and that, and how he wants to offer further instruction. Akira is as sharp as he thought him to be.
All of that, and none of it, because he's forgetting so much of importance. He knows that. He thinks it as he checks the back of his fingernails, as he stretches out his arm and inspects them with his fingers splayed out. There's something more to this. There's someone else that he should be meeting here.
But there's not. There is. There's not. It doesn't matter if there is or not, because he knows that he doesn't want what comes of this to leak out. It's something that should be kept between them, carried by the faint breeze and whispered amongst the shivering leaves and branches of the trees, lost long before it can reach human ears.
That's what it is. But he is prepared all the same. There's a box on his lap, which his hands are folded over. A box which contains all the pieces for chess. And pressed above that, held tight, a deck of cards, and his expression is so dead and empty that one might think he were a corpse sitting upon this place. Dazai isn't always emotional, but this is different even so - his slight smile is fixed in place, but his eyes are dark, a pair of black holes that sucks in and consumes even the slightest hint of life.
They'll move somewhere else. This is just a meeting spot. But it's their meeting spot. It's where he's chosen today, on some whim, and he stares ahead without any interest at all.
Dead. Vacant. Empty. All consuming. Watching. His fingers drum against the stack of cards, and there's a little hum, and that gaze seems darker and deader still.
Such as it goes. ]
Edited 2025-04-14 10:07 (UTC)
[It's their spot.
It's not their only one, certainly, but Akira likes this one. There will always be something in him that can enjoy the quiet, even as enamored as Tokyo made him with bustle and noise. They go through different spots as easily as Akira goes through his masks, and it's never a bother to him; he's as happy to be caught up in the pull of Dazai's tide as he is with anything else that brings him joy.
There's no surprise during the times he is called, and there is no surprise in simply running into Dazai by chance. Whatever the occasion, Akira will always rise to meet it.
No, the surprise is only in seeing the look in Dazai's eyes. Something that was there is no longer. Akira feels a chill to recognize it, even if he can't quite recognize what feels like it's missing.]
...Dazai-senpai. [His eyes search him for any clues, anything familiar he can grasp. Many things have happened lately that are alarming, but this is...] Did something happen?
[It's such an obvious question that Akira almost hates asking it, but- he doesn't know what else to say. Not until he can collect more information. Not until he can figure out what's left him missing something.]
It's not their only one, certainly, but Akira likes this one. There will always be something in him that can enjoy the quiet, even as enamored as Tokyo made him with bustle and noise. They go through different spots as easily as Akira goes through his masks, and it's never a bother to him; he's as happy to be caught up in the pull of Dazai's tide as he is with anything else that brings him joy.
There's no surprise during the times he is called, and there is no surprise in simply running into Dazai by chance. Whatever the occasion, Akira will always rise to meet it.
No, the surprise is only in seeing the look in Dazai's eyes. Something that was there is no longer. Akira feels a chill to recognize it, even if he can't quite recognize what feels like it's missing.]
...Dazai-senpai. [His eyes search him for any clues, anything familiar he can grasp. Many things have happened lately that are alarming, but this is...] Did something happen?
[It's such an obvious question that Akira almost hates asking it, but- he doesn't know what else to say. Not until he can collect more information. Not until he can figure out what's left him missing something.]
[ It's difficult, even after a year in this reality, to not think of this day as the day his life changed irrevocably. Gratitude isn't a strong enough word for what he feels.
He doesn't want to burden this Akira with reminiscence of a meeting that never occurred, though.
No, there's something else on Maruki's mind. ]
This might seem like it's coming out of nowhere, but I've been thinking of home lately.
What was it like for you, when you first got to Tokyo and Shujin?
He doesn't want to burden this Akira with reminiscence of a meeting that never occurred, though.
No, there's something else on Maruki's mind. ]
This might seem like it's coming out of nowhere, but I've been thinking of home lately.
What was it like for you, when you first got to Tokyo and Shujin?
[It's a long time before he sends a message back.]
Freeing. Isolating. I know those sound contrary, but it was a little bit of both.
I could finally breathe, because I'd gotten out of that situation. I escaped, like I told you. I wasn't expecting a warm welcome, but what I found waiting for me was still a cold reception.
It got better, of course. My most important people now are from Tokyo. But the beginning was hard.
Freeing. Isolating. I know those sound contrary, but it was a little bit of both.
I could finally breathe, because I'd gotten out of that situation. I escaped, like I told you. I wasn't expecting a warm welcome, but what I found waiting for me was still a cold reception.
It got better, of course. My most important people now are from Tokyo. But the beginning was hard.
Hey, are you awake?
[ A birthday as a celebrity was a strange, incredible thing.
Presents, letters, emails, tagged images and posts, well wishes spread online and his manager dropped off more gifts than he had ever seen in his life.
The sensation was new - so foreign he mistook it for happiness because it had been too long since he last felt it coil in his chest.
Realized after the tenth letter for the perfect Detective Prince, the fourth package full of cloying sweets, a teddy bear from a collaboration he doesn't remember through the haze of too busy days -
How much he despised every last piece of it. This wasn't love. Akechi Goro wasn't wanted. A prince was needed if he covered every imperfect crack.
And in a sterile apartment, he didn't need to play pretend. And in that dimly lit living room, he shoved it all into a trash bag. And in the night that followed, he wondered how he could grasp that brief second in his palm again. More shows - a variety one, maybe. A new cafe down the street was a place his fans frequented and tagged him to visit.
And in this new world where he can just be - he chooses to be Akechi with Akira. A shadow's presence still means he can be alone with another and Akira has always fallen in step with him, allowed him to linger by his side in turn.
They're alone. They're together. It's not the best of both worlds, but it's that imperfection Akechi Goro clings to because it's the most familiar sensation of all.
The bathhouse is a refuge they both settle in without a word. It's a few minutes, ten minutes, nearly a half hour later before Akechi speaks up from his position a few feet away. That he opens his eyes, peels the back of his head off the cool tile behind them and sinks to his shoulders into the water. ]
It's odd to think about aging in a place that may end up being no different than a palace, don't you think?
Presents, letters, emails, tagged images and posts, well wishes spread online and his manager dropped off more gifts than he had ever seen in his life.
The sensation was new - so foreign he mistook it for happiness because it had been too long since he last felt it coil in his chest.
Realized after the tenth letter for the perfect Detective Prince, the fourth package full of cloying sweets, a teddy bear from a collaboration he doesn't remember through the haze of too busy days -
How much he despised every last piece of it. This wasn't love. Akechi Goro wasn't wanted. A prince was needed if he covered every imperfect crack.
And in a sterile apartment, he didn't need to play pretend. And in that dimly lit living room, he shoved it all into a trash bag. And in the night that followed, he wondered how he could grasp that brief second in his palm again. More shows - a variety one, maybe. A new cafe down the street was a place his fans frequented and tagged him to visit.
And in this new world where he can just be - he chooses to be Akechi with Akira. A shadow's presence still means he can be alone with another and Akira has always fallen in step with him, allowed him to linger by his side in turn.
They're alone. They're together. It's not the best of both worlds, but it's that imperfection Akechi Goro clings to because it's the most familiar sensation of all.
The bathhouse is a refuge they both settle in without a word. It's a few minutes, ten minutes, nearly a half hour later before Akechi speaks up from his position a few feet away. That he opens his eyes, peels the back of his head off the cool tile behind them and sinks to his shoulders into the water. ]
It's odd to think about aging in a place that may end up being no different than a palace, don't you think?
[It's a hazy daydream that Akechi's words pull him out of, not even fully remembered. He blinks tv studio lights out of his eyes and rolls his head towards Akechi.
Beside him. Breathing. Old enough to drink, against every odd that's ever been stacked against him.
Akira's chest aches with it.]
It begs the question of how much of a cognitive world this is, or how little we may know of the laws of the Metaverse. I wonder which one it is.
[Without even a speck of hesitation around someone that could easily kill him, he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind Akechi's ear, hand dropping away nonchalantly. When Akira speaks, his voice is just as even as it was before.]
Your face isn't quite the same as it was when you were eighteen. [It's not that Akechi is unrecognizable. It's simply that even now, a year out, his face is burned into his brain. Every one of his moments before death makes its rounds through his dreams.] Not a big change, but enough of one that I can see. You've aged while you were here. Did you experience growth because there's more of reality here than we'd like to think, or is it your cognition making it so?
[It's a question to answer a question, the same as is often their way. Akira doesn't like his own question very much, nor its implications, but it's one that he asks all the same.]
Beside him. Breathing. Old enough to drink, against every odd that's ever been stacked against him.
Akira's chest aches with it.]
It begs the question of how much of a cognitive world this is, or how little we may know of the laws of the Metaverse. I wonder which one it is.
[Without even a speck of hesitation around someone that could easily kill him, he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind Akechi's ear, hand dropping away nonchalantly. When Akira speaks, his voice is just as even as it was before.]
Your face isn't quite the same as it was when you were eighteen. [It's not that Akechi is unrecognizable. It's simply that even now, a year out, his face is burned into his brain. Every one of his moments before death makes its rounds through his dreams.] Not a big change, but enough of one that I can see. You've aged while you were here. Did you experience growth because there's more of reality here than we'd like to think, or is it your cognition making it so?
[It's a question to answer a question, the same as is often their way. Akira doesn't like his own question very much, nor its implications, but it's one that he asks all the same.]
[ The sun has nearly completed its descent, warm summer rays still beating down on them until that very last moment before it slips beneath the horizon line. Maruki wipes at his brow, throws his satchel over his shoulder as he stands. The silver sand of Lumindeas' beaches crunches beneath the soles of their shoes now that they're fully dressed again.
A whole day spent doing nothing more than lounging on the beach, cat napping and chatting and horsing around in the water, seems like such a mundane joy for a reality as fantastical as this. It's nothing they couldn't do back in their true realities, really.
But they wouldn't be able to do it with each other. Therein lies the difference.
Restless is a kind word for how Maruki has felt for months now. Being purposeless has never suited him, and he has never been a patient man. Teetering on the knife's edge of what comes next for him after his time in this reality for so long has made him a bit stir crazy. He still wants to believe he can defy his fate, but that's not what Chihaya saw in the cards for him. But if he's destined to walk the path he started on Christmas Eve, if he can't stray from it when he leaves–
It's a circular path his mind will follow relentlessly until he collapses if he lets it.
To what extent he can, he's readjusted his focus lately. He'll still always help others in any way that he can, but no longer does Maruki run himself ragged actively seeking out those opportunities. No, much of his downtime now is simply spent with the people he loves, doing anything they can, or nothing at all.
People will always need his help no matter where he goes, and it will certainly continue to be true back in reality. But people will not always want to spend a day at the beach with him. People will not always want to boulder up the side of a cliff with him. People will not always want to bake an untold amount of macarons with him, or nap for hours in a field of wildflowers with him, or share a bottle of sake beneath the stars with him. These simple joys are the ones he must seize upon while he's here, and they're what he must cling to when he finally returns home–
But especially this. Here and now with Akira. This Akira.
I just want to enjoy this time with you and feel–
Carefree.
It's possible, when I'm around you.
Maruki looks over at him as they trek along the beach, the first unfamiliar stars beginning to wink overhead as dusk falls. ]
It's a shame we can't grant one another's wishes anymore. [ He smiles, eyes shining behind his glasses. ] Although I suppose that would have been a little too on the nose today, wouldn't it?
A whole day spent doing nothing more than lounging on the beach, cat napping and chatting and horsing around in the water, seems like such a mundane joy for a reality as fantastical as this. It's nothing they couldn't do back in their true realities, really.
But they wouldn't be able to do it with each other. Therein lies the difference.
Restless is a kind word for how Maruki has felt for months now. Being purposeless has never suited him, and he has never been a patient man. Teetering on the knife's edge of what comes next for him after his time in this reality for so long has made him a bit stir crazy. He still wants to believe he can defy his fate, but that's not what Chihaya saw in the cards for him. But if he's destined to walk the path he started on Christmas Eve, if he can't stray from it when he leaves–
It's a circular path his mind will follow relentlessly until he collapses if he lets it.
To what extent he can, he's readjusted his focus lately. He'll still always help others in any way that he can, but no longer does Maruki run himself ragged actively seeking out those opportunities. No, much of his downtime now is simply spent with the people he loves, doing anything they can, or nothing at all.
People will always need his help no matter where he goes, and it will certainly continue to be true back in reality. But people will not always want to spend a day at the beach with him. People will not always want to boulder up the side of a cliff with him. People will not always want to bake an untold amount of macarons with him, or nap for hours in a field of wildflowers with him, or share a bottle of sake beneath the stars with him. These simple joys are the ones he must seize upon while he's here, and they're what he must cling to when he finally returns home–
But especially this. Here and now with Akira. This Akira.
Carefree.
It's possible, when I'm around you.
Maruki looks over at him as they trek along the beach, the first unfamiliar stars beginning to wink overhead as dusk falls. ]
It's a shame we can't grant one another's wishes anymore. [ He smiles, eyes shining behind his glasses. ] Although I suppose that would have been a little too on the nose today, wouldn't it?
Edited 2025-07-01 08:25 (UTC)
[The sound of the water is a cushion, lulling him with its noises until Maruki's words float through. It's one peace traded for another, and Akira hums as he considers them.
A day like today, one filled with contentment and joy... He can't truly say that he's wanting for anything. Maybe if anything, he'd want for what he already wished for to have stayed even longer. But even so...]
Even if we could've, I'm not sure I would've wished for anything today. [The smile on his face is small but fond.] Days like today are already the type of thing I wish for.
[Tokyo had been full of several of them. But today is the first that he can say he truly spent with Maruki like this, a day that had both peace and joy, and that's what makes it even more precious.
Almost unconsciously, his hand drifts up to his neck, fingers brushing along his Adam's apple. Over a week ago, lines still marked his skin there, but now it's long faded.
Maybe it's wrong to miss it, just a little. But Akira has always been a sentimental person. It's why he wished for it in the first place, after all.]
Did you wish for anything, while it still worked?
A day like today, one filled with contentment and joy... He can't truly say that he's wanting for anything. Maybe if anything, he'd want for what he already wished for to have stayed even longer. But even so...]
Even if we could've, I'm not sure I would've wished for anything today. [The smile on his face is small but fond.] Days like today are already the type of thing I wish for.
[Tokyo had been full of several of them. But today is the first that he can say he truly spent with Maruki like this, a day that had both peace and joy, and that's what makes it even more precious.
Almost unconsciously, his hand drifts up to his neck, fingers brushing along his Adam's apple. Over a week ago, lines still marked his skin there, but now it's long faded.
Maybe it's wrong to miss it, just a little. But Akira has always been a sentimental person. It's why he wished for it in the first place, after all.]
Did you wish for anything, while it still worked?
the balancing board of "this isn't a direct quote Buuuuuuuuuut-"
arsenist
- 2025-07-04 02:18 (UTC) - Expandif you're sorry and i'm sorry, where is the meteor that hits the beach
arsenist
- 2025-07-17 08:24 (UTC) - Expand13 FOR DA ATTACK BUT FRANKLY DO WHATEVER YOU WANT..........
placation
- 2025-07-28 01:21 (UTC) - Expandawesome the reflect hits him and a meteor that falls down and kills them both- i mean what. d20
arsenist
- 2025-08-03 04:15 (UTC) - Expandyet another 13.... it's almost as if....... maruki is unlucky against akira
placation
- 2025-08-04 08:32 (UTC) - Expand13 is still a decent roll...! u know what isn't a decent roll? a d6 </3
arsenist
- 2025-08-06 13:22 (UTC) - Expandcloses eyes. freak behavior incoming that doesn't require a roll
placation
- 2025-08-07 23:40 (UTC) - Expand
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