[ 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. ]
"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.]
[ His relief at seeing Akira again is so palpable, so powerful, that ice-cold dread doesn't begin to trickle down the back of his neck just yet. It gathers at the base of his skull, drip by drip, slow enough that his words come out genuinely confused, in between surprised laughs. ]
It's only been a few months. Honestly... I hope I don't look that much worse these days!
[ He crosses closer, stepping carefully through the flowers just in case they're doing something strange, as they're wont to do. Still grinning, eyebrows raised, hands tucking into the pockets of his jacket. He's never without that one piece of home for long.
He remembers exactly how disorienting, frightening and frustrating it had been to appear here with little fanfare. If Akira had met him on that day, he would have assumed they were simply in a dream. His voice is calm, reassuring; he can help to gentle Akira into this. Maruki owes him that much. ]
I know it seems impossible, but it's real. We're both here.
[It's real, when it almost certainly can't be. That's what Akira's sure of more than anything else that's happened from one moment to the next.
There's something soothing about listening to that tone, but he's too on edge to relax into it. Not with someone he doesn't know, but who certainly seems to know him.
Could it be cognition...? Could it even do something like this? It might explain the unusual plant life, if it's something that's never been seen before. Between all of his time in Palaces, in Mementos, even in Jails... Akira has never seen anything like this.
He wishes Morgana were here. Even if he didn't know what was happening, together they might be able to figure it out... Why is he gone now, of all times?
But he is, so Akira must figure it out alone. He has to think. It could be a Palace or a Jail, or a new thing entirely since there should be no more of either of those. Something unprecedented would need to be happening, or else there would be no explanation for why this man knows him... Unless- no. No, there's one other option.
When he was in prison for nearly two months... And right after he was released, in that gap of time between Valentine's Day and White Day... His sense of time was skewed, everything seeming to blend together in his mind like muddied paint except for the bursts of color that his friends brought to the canvas.
But to forget someone that seems to care about him... Someone that can say his name with such fondness...]
...You definitely know who I am, then.
[Is Akira truly capable of forgetting something that important?
If he did, what else he could have possibly forgotten?]
Did we meet at the end of winter, by any chance?
[Stay calm. Stay polite. He has to do these things, until he can figure out what this means.]
[ The bemused smile slides off Maruki's face, oil suddenly slipping away from water. ]
Winter...?
[ The drips collect and spill over. The back of his neck goes frigid, as if winter's settling into his own bones, suddenly. It shivers down his spine, makes him stand up straight.
Maruki's brows draw down, sharp. ]
No. I just saw you before I left in November. We were at Shujin together during your second year.
[ It all escapes quickly, panic rising up the back of his throat like bile with every word.
He's staring, intensely. He knows he is. But he can't stop himself, can't temper the desperation flaring to life in a fearful corner of his heart that grief closed off long ago. Maruki searches his face for any clue this might be a joke, even the most subtle quirk of one corner of his mouth–
But he only finds those eyes. Bright and honest as ever, but devoid of recognition. Searching in return, in a way Maruki knows too well. ]
I...
[ Who... Who are you? ]
Kurusu, it's me.
[ Um... I'm really sorry, but I don't know who you are. ]
[Akira doesn't understand. Can't, really, because how could he ever?
And yet.
His stomach still twists as if he's done a terrible thing.]
No. I... [Kurusu. No honorific. It lodges in his throat, a painful weight. He doesn't know what he expected, but this is...] You're sure that you met me at Shujin Academy.
[It's not even really phrased like a question... not when there's that kind of expression on his face, like his entire world is shattering.
He wouldn't forget something like this. Something is so terribly, terribly wrong.]
Are you a teacher there?
[His eyes search frantically, seeking an answer. His own hurt, his own confusion - both of those are swept up in the moment, tucked away for later, because someone is in terrible pain before his eyes. Pain that- he caused-?]
When did we meet? What month was it?
[Please... don't look at me this way...
It nearly cuts worse than the students afraid of him in the hallways.]
[ Not a joke. Maybe a manipulation. Maybe now when people arrive, their memories are messed with up front, like they were all experiencing months ago, maybe it's temporary, maybe it can be fixed–
How can he help Akira acclimate to this reality when he still has to tell him about the last one?
Foolishly, he thought the worst of his grief was over. That by finally telling the honest truth, being allowed to feel the depth of that pain in someone's arms, he'd managed to wade through his lowest point and come out alive.
But retelling it has nothing on reliving it. Some hitherto unknown wound in the depths of his soul spreads, the rot violent and festering. Maruki knows he must look like a man whose heart has shattered. It isn't fair to put that on Akira.
It isn't.
He tries to school it off his face. Breathes. He can fix this. He can fix anything. ]
No, I was a counselor. Temporarily, just for a few months... We met on my first day there. In mid-May.
[ It's said with significance. Maruki won't bring up Kamoshida. Akira ought to know. If he doesn't even know that, then they have a far larger problem. ]
[The way he speaks, the way he looks at him... All of it like he knows so deeply. Akira doesn't know what to do with it, and it's incredibly alarming. And yet, it's also strangely... grounding.
At least until he tries to look okay. Akira knows what to do with that even less, because it's alarming in a lot more personal of a way.]
All the way back in May...
[That would have to be... In what Akira's forgotten? Or what... Maruki thinks happened? Whatever's happening, it would have to be after Kamoshida. After Suzui-
It's a bitter irony, though there isn't even a sardonic laugh in his gut. Aside from Kawakami, who at Shujin would care enough about its students to do that much for them?
If a counselor had been there... it wouldn't change the worst thing that happened at the school, but how much could've been different?
He might as well be honest, though, at least in this one way. Whatever's happening, they're in this together right now.]
There was an incident the month before, in April... No counselors were ever called in for any of us. [Suzui may have received some sort of care, but...] But you remember it distinctly. In your eyes, I should know who you are.
[For his entire stay at the school, it sounds like. It's crazy, but he's seen far too much that's crazy to ever dismiss it.]
[ There was an incident. Yes, yes. At least he remembers that. Maruki seizes onto it, hands clenching and unclenching in the pockets of his jacket. They must be able to break this... ]
That's why I was hired. Candidly, I think it had more to do with the school attempting to clean up its image than anything else, but...
[ A shrug of one shoulder, a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. ]
If nothing else, it meant that I got to meet you. We spent a lot of time together.
[ He hesitates, briefly, and his voice softens further. Back to reassuring, to placating. ]
It's okay if you don't remember yet. Maybe it'll come in time. Can I ask what the last thing from our reality that you do remember is?
[Some sort of movement from his hands in his pockets. Akira catalogues it, even if he doesn't have the knowledge to understand any of Maruki's tells.
He doesn't seem completely in line with the school, either, even if he was hired by them. Unknowingly, something loosens in Akira's shoulders.
We spent a lot of time together. He relaxes, even if that feels like a blow. There has to be a mistake somewhere. Akira would never forget something like this.]
I was... on the train heading home from Tokyo, at the end of summer vacation. [He still has to be careful. Even if he almost speaks like a Confidant... He doesn't know what Maruki knows. Wherever he is, and whatever else is going on, Akira can't jeopardize the identities of the Phantom Thieves.] I don't know if you know, but... I was on probation during that school year. At the end of it, I went home. But I came back to visit some friends during summer break.
[It should be safe enough. He should still be able to gauge what Maruki knows like this.]
[ That hits at a strange angle. One he hadn't expected at all.
Summer break. He made it past Christmas Eve, finished out the year at Shujin, went home, and returned. It's only another half a year or so, but he's still so much farther ahead than–
Maruki's brain stutters to a stop. So much farther ahead than either of them. Akechi. He has to play this as carefully as he can, knowing full well it will still end gracelessly. They hadn't been able to hold even one conversation about him.
All in due time. He focuses on Akira, curious. ]
I knew about your probation. I never saw you move back home, though... That hasn't happened yet, for me.
[ A sick twist in his gut. People from different points in a timeline are a dime a dozen. People from different timelines entirely aren't uncommon either – he'd just spoken to Kazuya and Naoya about their disparate memories of one another. If that's what's happening here–
If a version of their reality exists where he and Akira simply never met–
How?
How could Maruki ever make it through that chaotic, life-changing year without him?
Maybe the year wasn't like that for Akira. Maybe, somewhere out there, Kurusu Akira led a peaceful temporary life in Tokyo. ]
I... I think that we should clear the air on something up front, Kurusu-kun. Otherwise we may talk in circles.
[ A beat, heavy and serious. ]
From what you remember, you're still the leader of the Phantom Thieves, aren't you?
[ Say no. If Akira has to forget him, let it be because he lived in a kinder world. ]
[That hasn't happened yet, for me, echoes through his head. That hasn't happened yet, reverberates, strangely, like he can't make sense of it. "For me"? Akira himself thinks, confusion ratcheting up quicker and quicker to match the beats of a pulse that's turning more rapid.
That's worse than an illusion born of cognition.
That's even worse than an inexplicable gap in Akira's memory, an entire person slipping through his fingers like sand.
It defies what he knows. Akira tries to process it, and then for a moment - he cannot process anything at all.
"...you're still the leader of the Phantom Thieves, aren't you?"
Where did he go wrong?
Did he fail them?
It would be different, if it was like Hifumi, Takemi, Ohya. A natural progression that he still tried to prevent, but could take a sort of comfort in. The indirect knowledge of who he was, not confirmed, but that he felt the gentle wave of their support.
But this...
Akira does not remember a Maruki. But a Maruki knows him.
And he knows, directly, that which Akira should never give away.
His jaw clenches before he can stop it. An awful slip, but he smooths it from his face as swiftly as he can.]
Who told you that?
[His voice is still distant, a place between the suggestion that he could be one of them or the suggestion that he's been informed incorrectly.
Good. He can maintain this, at the least.
The "for me" isn't forgotten. It's still there, beating at his ribcage, but it has to wait. He needs to know if there's danger.]
[ It would be an understatement to say his heart sinks. There's no word for what it does. Only a cavernous pit left where it used to be.
Jaw tensed, distrustful. Of course he is. He has every right to be.
He doesn't know Maruki. ]
You did.
[ A last gasp of hope– ]
We spoke about it on my last day at the school. We did.
[ –that ends in defeat.
Maruki blinks. Akira is still there. Not a vision come to torment him, comeuppance for half a year of fighting tooth and nail against this reality. As real as can be, and not the one Maruki knows. Not at all. ]
I can't imagine how strange this is for you right now. [ Even as his voice breaks on the next words out of his mouth, Maruki is clearing his own heartbreak away. Putting it up on the shelf, shoving it to the very back corner. Refocusing only on Akira.
He can't keep doing more harm. He has to help. ] I'm sorry...
[It escapes out of him, the quietest of breaths as Maruki keeps talking.
There are only two reasons that he can ever think that he would admit to such a thing. The first, low chance that it is, would be if he was directly found out like he'd been with Sojiro. It's obviously happened before, so it's not impossible. But the other option would be...
If he did something that's even more unlikely for him to ever do. Something he could never do with any adults in that school except Kawakami, and only because a freak accident opened the way for them to deal directly with one another...
Maybe it's because Maruki was (is?) a counselor. Maybe something unexpected happened. Or maybe... there was only something achingly familiar buried in the words he says and the moves he makes, and maybe whatever Akira that Maruki thinks he knows saw that, too.
Maybe, somehow, this is someone that Akira trusts with his entire life.
"I'm sorry-"]
Wait. [The word bursts out of Akira, something even he can't place causing his voice to tremble.] Wait. Please.
[Why would I trust back then, when-
Blue and red lights, and a woman unable to look him in the eye as he's pulled away.
How could I trust, and someone in authority, when it only ever-
An impassable door, a searing gunshot.
And yet...]
Please... don't apologize.
[Because it hurts to hear. And that's something Akira can't make sense of, either.]
I don't... understand what's happening. [A severe understatement, but it still feels like something that needs to be said.] But you know me. You know about me, the greatest thing that I should never tell anyone else. The way you're talking about me, the way you're looking at me-
[Like you're grieving.
The words stick in his throat. He doesn't say it.
But he can't abide by this. He can't ignore someone in pain.]
Even if I can't understand... This isn't your fault.
[And he can ignore it even less if he's the cause of it.
[ He's never heard Akira's voice quaver like that, even if only briefly. Never. In an instant, Maruki readies himself to launch into comfort, consolation–
This isn't your fault.
Not his Akira, no, but still Akira.
It hurts worse, somehow. Whatever has broken open inside his chest gets caught between mending itself back together and cracking further, cycling rapidly between them again and again. It hurts, and it heals, and–
Maruki smiles. It's small, but it's entirely genuine. ]
You really are a remarkable young man.
[ He draws a deep breath. Keeps himself from reaching out, keeps his hands firmly in his jacket pockets. Steady, assured. They can try to understand, together. But Maruki has to do the heavy lifting.
And he can. He will. He remembers all too well how society failed Akira, how adults who should have known better turned a blind eye or made things worse. He refuses to be another disappointment in a young life rife with them. He will be strong, because Akira is strong; they can prop each other up here, even as they relearn each other. ]
Alright. It will help if I explain this place to you first. But, ah...
[ Maruki glances back, sees where he had left all his things carelessly on the ground. Another steadying breath, then back to Akira. ]
It's best if we leave the garden. Walk and talk. I understand if you don't feel comfortable following me just yet, though... [ Maruki chews his lip, briefly, then smiles again. ] It's up to you.
[He looks down, for just a moment. It's too hard to look at that smile, face those words, because-
It's meant for him... It's meant for someone else? Akira can't be sure.
But he knows it would be hard for him to hear, no matter what else was happening. Even when Sojiro says things like that... it makes so many feelings squirm through his chest.
How can he accept that, from someone he doesn't even know? It's like looking directly at the sun. It burns his skin, sears directly down to his soul.]
I...
["This place," when he has so many other things to deal with - but that's the point. They have to figure this out, together. He hasn't looked up, but the things scattered on the ground-]
These are your yours?
[It's poised like a question, but Akira is already kneeling down and gathering them into his arms. Books, perhaps journals, which aren't wholly unexpected... but phones? He picks them up anyway; it's not his business to pry.]
I have things I want to know, and you must have things you'd like to know, too. [For a moment, his hands are still. Processing. Just a bit unsteady, because he doesn't really know how to gather himself when Morgana is gone. And then he's in motion again, tapping the books together against his knees til they're straightened out before he holds them out to be taken.] If we're going to understand together, we can't do that by being alone.
[He can't trust, because there's only a few people he can do that with right now. Not yet, at least, even in spite of everything.
But he won't turn his back on the person that needs him.]
[ Maruki takes the journals gratefully, then the two phones – one an ancient brick Akira's not likely to have seen much of in his young life, the other a model not much older than the smart phones they're used to. He'll have to get one for Akira too– or would that be strange...
Ah, it doesn't matter. Everything gets thrown into the satchel he swings over his shoulder – the very same as the one Akira's found himself with, though the contract and potion are long gone. ]
Thank you.
[ As they begin to make their way through the garden, Maruki keeps their pace to a casual amble. Things have been relatively safe lately, which actually doesn't engender much in the way of calm for him; he is alert every step of the way, on the watch for anything that could swiftly go wrong. Whatever power Akira does have back in their true reality, he doesn't know the full extent of, but Maruki does know he's without it now. He won't let him be hurt. The idea alone sinks deep fangs into his heart, cold dread replaced by a fierce need to protect.
What a strange turn of events, being the one someone can rely on. Even if they don't know it yet. ]
This place is called Somnius. Its true nature is unknown. I've been operating under the assumption that it's some sort of cognitive world, but we haven't yet been able to find a way to break free. [ We, the population at large. We, he and Akechi. He'll get there. ] To put to rest an understandable concern up front, it's been proven several times over by those who have left and returned that your reality, as you know it, won't go on without you. You don't have to worry about friends or family knowing you're missing, or anything important left undone...
[ He pauses, mouth twisting, then glances over at Akira. ]
Please, ask anything that pops into your head. I know how surreal it is. I've been here for half a year.
[Christ. Where to even begin with any of that. What to even ask first.]
Somnius...
[Akira starts there, at least, spelling out the unfamiliar word. That Maruki knows about cognitive worlds is alarming in itself - what exactly happened between them-? - but it does take a burden off. There's a chance he doesn't have to explain that, or at least explain much of it, because he's dealing with someone on equal footing.
In spite of everything, it's a strange comfort when there isn't much of that to be found.
His hands itch for his notebook, or a new one entirely, a place to organize his thoughts and list out what he knows, what he still needs to find out. He thinks of all the Monabuses that would be doodled between the margins with a sharp ache, and considers that perhaps it's better to not have it after all.]
You've been here for half a year, but time only passes within... whatever this place is, if I'm understanding that right. [So he addresses what he knows, and jumps into what he doesn't-] When you said that my probation hadn't happened "for you" yet, is that what you meant? It wasn't unprecedented for you, because you knew people could come and go without it having any effect on our reality?
[It requires having to rethink everything that he knows, to accept this as truth. But it's hardly the first time that Akira has ever had to do that.]
[ In a way, focusing on discussing Somnius' particular brand of bullshit is a comfort. That might be how Maruki knows, once and for all, that his mind has broken here. He shouldn't find solace in explaining all of this, shouldn't get a little thrill anticipating questions. It's a truly insufferable professor mode that he could enter, and with the one person he's been dying to be able to talk to about its intricacies all this time.
He keeps it tempered, nods along with the question. ]
That's right. Setting aside other oddities between us, from your perspective, when you left your reality it was– August, I'm assuming?
[ Truly bizarre to consider. At the end of August, he'd spent the whole summer working on his research as much as he could and was simply biding his time until he and Akira could meet again in the halls of Shujin. And this Akira is a whole year out from that time, nonexistent as it is... ]
But from my perspective, when I left it was wintertime.
[ A beat, and one of those questions he's wanted answered for so long jumps onto his tongue. Maruki swallows it back, waits to see if this gets any reaction instead. ]
Christmas Eve, to be exact.
Edited (CLARITY ok bye) 2024-11-08 09:14 (UTC)
girl i just read this and refreshed and i still can't tell what changed, i can't read fr
[For a moment, he stills, eyes going to Maruki's and-
Finding them there, already staring at him. Searching, like he knows something far too much. Like he's seeking an answer.
There's no way, and yet...]
I'd be from eight months later, then, yes. That seems like the way it works. [He swallows past the tightness in his throat, the instinctive need to swallow it down and keep it away, hidden, hidden-] If what I'm about to ask doesn't mean anything to you, it's something you don't need to worry about. But...
[It feels freeing. It feels like the deepest sort of betrayal. It's stepping onto a floor that isn't there, but believing that cognition will make it so.]
On that day... Did you see anything unusual in Tokyo?
[One way or another, this will answer something he wants to know. Not the accumulation of knowledge, though that's just as important.
But he'll know for sure, just how deep "his" trust for this man goes.]
I was visiting my old university, so I was indoors, but when I looked out the window... I saw the sky turn red. [ They're nearly to the edge of the garden, walled off from the rest of the town. Maruki is in no hurry at all. He's only focused on Akira. ] The person I was meeting with couldn't see it, but I could.
[ When he first arrived in Somnius, he never would have guessed for a moment that it had anything to do with Akira. But he's learned enough now to connect those two strings, even if the rest still hang limp and mysterious. He doesn't know what happened, or why, or how. What it meant, what came next. He only knows that it did happen, and Akira knows it did too. ]
[He shuts his eyes and breathes, as steady as he can manage. Tries to think of Morgana's warm weight against his stomach when it's time for bed.
The others he spoke to didn't know what had happened. But he does still know the only people that could see that... were the ones he forged a bond with. Twenty-one strings of fate, neatly tied around his heart and holding him upright as he threw himself against the might of a god.
Akira opens his eyes. Fights against every instinct that fights bitterly within his soul, fights with every ounce of him that was able to take hold of Sophia and Zenkichi's hands and never, ever let go.
Twenty-two.
Twenty-three.
Twenty-four.]
What you saw was the aftereffect of a terrible battle the Phantom Thieves were in the middle of. [Akira's voice has shifted; something stiff lost, yet something else... something that Maruki may find familiar is there. It's not quite trust yet, but-] Most people were unable to see it, but I have some suspicions. When I talked to others later, the only ones who could see the sky change were... people that had a connection to us.
[A beat, and then...]
They were people that had a connection to me.
[His bonds, his true strength, the only thing between him and the enslavement of the world.]
[ A terrible battle, bones jutting out of the ground to tower into a sky soaked in crimson, and an awakening of his very own. All because of his connection to Akira.
Maruki knew. He doesn't know how, but he knew. Some things that live that deep in one's soul can't be explained. He knew.
A hand rubbing gently between Akechi's shoulder blades as he retched onto bloodstained grass–
By the farm pond, his palm against Venat's cheek mirroring her own against his–
Eren's arms wrapped around him in the rubble of Eyn Sof–
And now, here at the edge of the Enchanted Garden, a hand coming up to clasp over Akira's shoulder. A squeeze, brief but firm, as he looks over at his once and future friend with nothing less than utter conviction burning straight through him when he says: ]
I believe you.
[ Maruki's hand drops away. ]
I believe we had that connection in my reality. And I believe that we didn't, in yours.
[ If the conviction burns him too, if he hurts, if he never stops hurting, so be it. There are more important things than his own heart. ]
You made it through that battle in both, didn't you? That's all that matters to me...
It doesn't, not truly. But to Akira... it feels like it does. His heart must be beating, his breaths must be flowing- but he's too stunned to take stock of it all.
His world is narrowed to two things only: the pressure of a hand, and a single phrase.
"I believe you."
"I believe you."
"I believe you."]
You...
[It penetrates straight to his heart, this impossible man that held a bond with him in what must amount to another life. It's not just the affection Maruki has for him... but the words he waited so long for someone to say.
They're the words that his soul screamed and cried out for, railing against the injustice done against him as he was sent away to a place entirely unknown.
They're the words that healed so many of the broken pieces within him, that made him feel like a person again. Ryuji and Ann, Sojiro and Sae.
I believe you.
They are the words he waited for and never received at the most critical juncture, his justice returned with betrayal.
[It's spoken distant, but not lost. He could be talking to Maruki, or himself, or simply no one at all.
There's nothing hurt in it. There's no sadness in it. There is only a sort of wonder.]
I won. We won. And if our realities are really different...
[He doesn't understand it, these impossibilities that go beyond even the fantastical that he learned. He understands even less how he could ever talk to someone like this, someone he doesn't know but who inherently knows him, an adult that had a position of power over him. Kurusu Akira does not trust easily, and he does not trust quickly, and he doesn't understand how that could ever change.
But it's okay, sometimes, to not understand anything at all.]
If you were there, too... I think there's no way that I could lose.
[ A tight, choking heat rushes up the back of Maruki's throat.
He doesn't doubt that Akira is right, but god, all he wants is to be able to confirm it with the Akira that he knows best. Maruki mourns him even as he smiles at him.
A deep breath, a sharp exhale. He lets it go. There will be time to fall apart later. For now–
Beyond the walls of the garden, the town spills out before them. Maruki turns his attention away from Akira and winces at it. Distinctly medieval, like nothing he'd seen outside of movies before arriving here. The cottages and treehouses are closest, winding dirt and stone paths through them and what passes for a main road leading toward the town center. ]
It's a shock compared to Tokyo, huh? I would say you get used to it, but...
[ He hates it as much as he did the first day, scrambling through a dusty marketplace until his rescue by the Detective Prince.
Which, well.
That's the next step. ]
I can walk through the town with you. If you want to go your own way then, I'll understand.
[ Maruki rubs at the back of his neck. ]
I have a home farther outside of town. I can offer you a room there. All housing here is free, so you don't have to, of course. You can think about it.
[His eyes again. That deep sigh. There's something Akira should say, but- Not yet. He holds it. He'll say it soon, very soon, before they get around other people. For just a moment, it can sit.
After all... there's a new thing to make sense of. He says the very first thing that comes to mind.]
Now you can say that you're from inaka, too.
[It's delivered completely deadpan, unexpected even for Akira himself. He didn't think he could joke around like that right now.]
I'd... like that, though. At least to come take a look at it, if nothing else. [He fiddles with his hair, voice a little bit softer.] I don't know if I could impose on you so soon, but... I'd like to at least come over and talk a little more.
[He doesn't want to be alone. Akira doesn't want to walk through this foreign, unfamiliar, cognitive town without Morgana at his side. But that isn't a weakness he'd show to even people that he already knew he'd die for, so it certainly isn't getting spoken right now.
He might as well get a more simple question out of the way, while he's at it.]
I don't know who else you might've met, but... Is there anyone else from Tokyo here?
It draws a laugh out of Maruki that's so unexpected, it twists and stabs every inch of his windpipe on the way out. Months of suppressing any memory that might hurt too much to look directly at have made him nearly forget just how ridiculously funny Akira can be without even trying. God, he's missed this.
And he takes the invitation, thank god.
And asks the million dollar question right along with it.
Careful. Careful.
It's a long walk to the machiya. Maruki takes them on the most direct path, straight through the cottages toward the business district, where they'll eventually veer off. They can walk with purpose now. ]
So... There are two strange things about this place you should know. I mean– [ Maruki smiles over at him again, brows knitting together as if to say how stupid of me. ] Everything here is strange, but these are important. For us.
[ He gestures to the houses they walk past, quaint little stone cottages. Eren's old home is nearby. Jean still lives there part time. Some others he knows are in the area, too... ]
There are people here from many, many different realities. They all found themselves here just as you and I did, held captive for a wish. And a surprising number of them are from Tokyo, but... not our Tokyo.
[ A Tokyo overrun by demons. A Tokyo where superheroes and supervillains are real, codified jobs. A Tokyo seemingly normal, save for the ability to transport someone to a fantastical world. On and on. ]
You'll meet others from realities you could never dream of. Keep an open mind. Some of them are truly incredible people.
[ Well, that's one strange thing down. He'll wait to see how Akira digests it before breaking the bigger news. ]
[Everything he knew was already being upturned, and now there's even more realities than whatever he and Maruki are dealing with... How can there even be multiple Tokyos? It's like the wildest manga plot he's ever seen.
But even so.
Believe, he thinks, a gentle reminder.]
If I'm honest, it's a little hard to wrap my mind around. [Such a candid thing from him-] But keeping an open mind won't be hard. It wouldn't be fair to stop believing in the impossible now.
[Whoever they are... they deserve a chance.
There's one thing Akira can't help but notice, though. Piercing eyes stare at the side of Maruki's head.
He never answered Akira's question.
It isn't enough to form distrust; not quite. It is enough to make him think. He could have indirect ways of speaking. He could know that Akira's friends mean more to him than the world itself, and to be trapped here away from them would be agony. Or... there could be something that Maruki doesn't want him to know.
It's too early to jump to conclusions. He needs to get more information, even if it's in the most indirect way possible.]
How many types of Tokyo do you think you've encountered so far?
[ Maruki has to wonder if this is really the better way to go about things – learning from someone else rather than being thrown to the wolves. Maybe if he had someone to explain things to him, he wouldn't have jumped so blindly and readily into dream counseling. Then again, probably not...
It is difficult to wrap one's mind around. Akira won't fully be able to until he experiences it for the first time himself. Every protective instinct in Maruki wants to be there for it, be the one to introduce him to the people here who matter, slowly and gently, but he can't. Akira has to stand on his own.
At the question, he thinks. There's Kurogiri and all his friends, of course. Subaru. Maki. Kazuya and Naoya. Dazai and Odasaku, even though they were from Yokohama. Chise, Kenma, Demi-Fiend... ]
Half a dozen or more. Some sound unbelievably different from our own. It's hard to imagine...
[ Maruki adjusts his satchel onto his other shoulder, veers them off toward an exit of the business district. He can bring Akira back later to show him around. The path they set out on will take them past the hill homes, off into the woods. He just walked this path this morning. It shouldn't be dangerous. They'll be fine.
The danger lies in what he has to say next. ]
To answer your earlier question, there is one other person from our reality here.
[ He waits until they're off the beaten path, out of earshot and sight of anyone else. However Akira reacts, Maruki will be here for it. No one else needs to know. ]
He's been here longer than I have. We didn't know one another before we met here, but we live together now. From my perspective, you should know him too... Akechi Goro?
[ If Maruki doesn't exist in Akira's reality, who's to say that Akechi does? They cycled through seemingly infinite realities only mere months ago, tied to one another for better and for worse in every single one. They're fated. It's a vanishing hope that Akira will remember one of them if he doesn't remember the other, but maybe... ]
[Akira is graceful, movements fluid, as sinewy as a cat and just as nimble. He's somersaulted over opponents' heads and has twisted his body to break through a glass window. If he tells his body to do something, to be controlled, it will simply do it.
The world goes still again, but there is no peace to it. There is only the shock of it all going still, the dust shaken off the lockbox in his heart - and his feet, stumbling upon the ground. The strange bag he woke up with doesn't drop into the dirt, but only because he catches it at a delay.
Akechi Goro, here. Akechi Goro, the person he failed the most.]
You know Akechi.
[There's only one thing that truly frightens Akira, and that's running away. To leave behind someone in pain, or in need, or someone simply depending on him.
He doesn't get terrified, but this might be something adjacent to it.
His voice is soft, until it is no longer.]
Is he from your reality? [There's no finesse to his questions, now, only a raw urgency that threads through each of his words.] When is he from?
[That might not be the right way to refer to it, but he doesn't care anymore. Can't, to be more specific. He's a prisoner to the need to know more.]
[ It's a relief, and it isn't. A problem, and a solution. A tremendous heartbreak for reasons Maruki can't begin to touch upon – but for the first time this afternoon, that grief has nothing to do with Akira.
It's a relief. It should be a relief. His guiding light and his closest ally at least have one another.
It's a problem. It is a phenomenal problem.
And Maruki's expression doesn't betray more than brief shock before his brows draw down. He doesn't want Akira to panic. He wants to hold his shoulder, or touch his back, but these are casual touches he's grown used to with his friends here, not something Akira would be used to, even if they did know one another–
So Maruki settles for stopping their walk in its tracks. Turning toward Akira, serious and calm. ]
Breathe. It's alright.
[ Half-dead in the courtyard of a castle. Sick and shaking on the floor of its bathroom. You're alright. He has to tell Akechi before they get within shooting distance of the machiya. He can't hurt both of them like this. ]
We've never had reason to doubt that we're from the same reality, although now that's a more complicated question, obviously...
[ They never met. He saw Akechi on television, and that's it. There's no way of knowing. Maybe Akechi has been from Akira's reality all along. ]
As for when, I don't know. I've never gotten a straight answer out of him.
[ Early June was a lie, and he knows it. Their future plans for November upon their return came up once and only once, and not with enough context for Maruki to be certain of anything.
Akira can ask Akechi himself. If he gets a better answer than Maruki has, more power to him.
Still stalwart, but his tone softens into sympathy. The panic that's risen up in Akira is so unlike his friend. ]
He may be home. I'll check. If you're not ready to see him, for whatever reason, Kurusu-kun, we don't have to go there.
Morgana, he thinks and does not say, because he will not be weak - but it helps. Somehow, the words help, sink in, get his brain to chug along and attempt to work.
Now more than ever, it's critical that he focuses. He must be Joker.]
That sounds like him.
[It flays him apart to even say it.]
Sorry. I didn't mean to... [He's calmer again, getting there, not quite Leader of the Phantom Thieves-calm, but approaching it at a sedate pace. He should never act like that, for any reason, but it seems he's full of slipups today.] If he's there, then I still want to go. I need to see him.
[Needs to see him alive, moving, in front of him.
Needs to search his body for a bullet wound, so maybe he won't have to breathe around the empty space inside himself.]
Will you still take me there?
[The question feels small, fragile and slipping into too-formal. But it doesn't help any of them to turn away from this. Not Akira, not Maruki.
It's true we might need a few minutes, but I don't think you really would. [Or at least- Well. He doesn't know what his own relationship with Maruki is like, but he can guess even less at what his relationship with Akechi is like. They live together? What is he like with him? Akira can't even think about it without his brain feeling like it's going to explode.] Will you come back after, though? I think it'd be good to have you there, after we... figure a few things out.
[Maruki has affection for him, one that seems to run deep, and Akira would really rather that he not find him dead.
Does Akechi still intend to kill him? If his reality is "early" enough, maybe not. Maybe he doesn't even know. How much does Akechi even know Akira...?
He can't think about this. Can't afford to. The only thing he can do is try to survive. Survive long enough to protect Maruki. Survive long enough to apologize to Akechi, if he owes that "yet".]
There's more I'd like to say.
[So he has to make it through this long enough to say it.
He hasn't forgotten the one thing, either. Akira has to say it for sure before they get to the house.]
[ There it is, in the very back of his mind, lodged down so low into the base of his skull that it jabs into his nape: The vague, watery memory of a memory of creating an entire reality in which Akira and Akechi could have a second chance.
Maruki is not that man. He fights every day to not become that man. But he knows himself. He knows that if he stays, he will meddle.
And he needs time to process this. He needs–
The only person who will understand, as ever.
Still, though. He owes Akira this. He owes him so much. ]
Of course I'll come back. There's something else I need to do this afternoon, but I always come home to cook dinner. And you're welcome to stay as long as you want, like I said...
[ Although he sure did offer that up before Akira knew Akechi was in the picture! God, what a mess.
The path through the woods isn't a true road by any stretch of the imagination, but it is well-worn. Maruki has to wonder if they'll see anyone from the farm, the only other housing this far out. ]
Either way, there's more I want to discuss with you too. I could talk your ear off for days on end, hah... [ He scratches at the back of his neck with a little laugh. Waves that hand through the air then, sheepish. ] Anyhow, fire at will.
I'll stay at least til dinner, then. If Akechi doesn't feel like I'm intruding, we can decide what else will come after. [If I can still think straight. If we don't beat each other unconscious. He'd like to at least taste Maruki's cooking. He'd offer to help, but... He did for Zenkichi, but that was different. This might be too forward. He can't be sure what's proper in this sort of situation.] If there's anything else you'd like to ask me, now or after, you're welcome to that, too. But...
[He takes a breath. Stops walking entirely, in fact.
It was important to say this before. It feels even more important now, when he doesn't know what will come after this.]
Before, when I said I couldn't lose... You said that you hoped so. [His hands grip the satchel that he's never owned before, and Akira remembers to breathe.] I just wanted to say that... it isn't something you have to hope for.
[He feels firm. Now... he feels like Joker.
He's the Kurusu Akira that faced Yaldabaoth and won.]
All you have to do is believe in me. If you knew me well enough to see the blood in the sky... believe in me. [His voice is strong, just a touch deeper. If it's the last thing he'll have a chance to say before whatever happens with Akechi, Akira is going to make it count.] If I won in a world without you in it, I'll never lose in one that has you.
[Another breath, and this one is a release. The conviction in his voice doesn't lessen, but his tone returns to something softer.]
That was all I wanted to say. Well- [A half-shrug and something that's almost a smile.] Not the only thing. But it was what I needed you to know.
closes eyes. we can prolly wrap it up on yr reply but trust me i do want to die
[ They're stopped on the path again. Surrounded by tall trees that reach toward an overcast sky. The late autumn sunlight is weak; only a few rays manage to peek through the cloud cover, the canopy of leaves. There is just enough daylight in the forest that it catches and reflects in those gray eyes. As bright and honest as ever.
And then–
If I won in a world without you in it, I'll never lose in one that has you.
It isn't something he has to hope for. All he has to do is believe in Akira. He would never lose in a world that has Maruki.
Something ruptures. One too many stones stack upon his chest, and then the whole thing caves in. He can't repair the scaffolding quickly enough to prop himself up and plaster back over it. If I won in a world without you in it, and such a world shouldn't exist, Akira should be yet another person he's meant to always find – I'll never lose in one that has you, and maybe that's why they're here now, maybe it was meant to happen like this. Maybe a final goodbye in a nurse's office after a decadent tempura udon lunch was only the beginning of one of reality's infinite concentric circles.
Maruki feels himself smile through it. Somehow. It wavers, but it's true. ]
I know that you're right. I've never doubted you. This place... it will mess with us. With everyone. But that's one promise I want to make to you now, Kurusu-kun.
[ People like them, they don't give up. Maruki will prove it in the foundation they rebuild, brick by brick. ]
No matter what happens, I won't ever doubt you.
[ He'll bring Akira to the machiya after this. He'll deliver him to Akechi, he'll go his own way for a while to fall apart, he'll piece himself back together and return for a meal and a discussion as they learn one another for the first time all over again. And they'll keep doing that, the next day and the next, until this reality shatters beneath their feet.
He doesn't tremble, but the feelings crash into him like a wave. What could have been, if only he'd had someone to tell him all this so long ago? Maybe it would've looked just like this.
Maybe it looked like someone extending a hand, saying they would believe him, saying they would never doubt him, instead of turning their eyes to the ground during his greatest time of need. Maybe it feels like Sojiro teaching him to cook, or Akira teaching Zenkichi to cook, and a smile full of pride instead of a frown of shame. Maybe it feels like the warmest well done he's ever heard, and an adult acting the way they should even once.
To experience it like this, near instantly, is flooring. Is it a product of this unique situation, or did an Akira in another timeline or reality or life feel just as swept away in this feeling? Did it feel like meeting someone he should've known for his whole life, relatable and with his whole heart on display for Akira to see? Did it feel like knowing someone he could lower so many masks around and bear so many of his vulnerable pieces?
He can't be sure. But what he does know is that he's feeling too many things to name. He knows he feels lighter and heavier at the same time. And what he knows most of all is-]
Thank you.
[Small and quiet, true and genuine.
He knows he wants this to last. The rest... he can figure that out. That's what Akira always does.
When he takes Maruki's hand, his own is steadier than he thought it might be.
His Arcana... Akira wonders what it was, what it looks like. What he'd feel like seeing it in the Velvet Room, or when Chihaya's fingers overturned it in the middle of a reading.
It would be a warm feeling, he thinks. Maybe he'd even smile. It would've been a nice counterpoint to the hollowness anytime after seeing La Justice.]
I promise I'll live up to that. [He will. He'll show him. Whatever that other Akira did - Akira will be worthy of it, too. Because, after all-] It's a deal.
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
entangles 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 -
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 the
the drip, drip, drip of blood plopping against the tile.
Akechi is prepared for anything. He
coats 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 Akirais.]
[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 a
corpse
An 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 minute
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.
[His body stops, his brain freezes. His heart shakes, his fingers tremble.
They shouldn't ever do that. There's no reason for them to ever do that, and yet-
For a full second, Kurusu Akira has no control over his masks, or his expression, or his breaths or his body or his mind. And that means there is no filter or shield for the pure and undiluted grief that streaks across his face.]
Akechi.
[His voice is unsteady. A crack, a break, a splintering of Joker. He should never be this way in front of anyone, let alone Akechi. Akechi, who was almost a rival. Akechi, who was an ally that he wished could've been a friend.
The way he says his name is an echo, haunting him, of piercing gunshot and unyielding bulwark. It's the sight of his own fists pounding against the door til they ached. It's the smell of blood filling his nose in his dreams, hiding under the salt and metal like a concealed dagger.
Akira rallies, steadies, because he is still who he is. His breaths, voice, eyes even out. His hands don't, so he stuffs them in his pockets at a slouch like he would any other time. He must be Joker right now, and if his body won't comply, he will force it to.
So, think. He has to think. Akechi is talking politely, so he either doesn't know Akira's seen the other side of him, or he's pretending that he isn't. He's saying Kurusu, so he's not from right when they met. He has to gain every bit of information that he can, but-
he's still wounded from being healed by Maruki
he's still bleeding out inside from looking at Akechi right in front of him, alive and breathing
Akira is off his game. He's in too much pain. And so he asks the most direct way he can, for better or worse.]
What's the last thing you remember from back home?
MEAN TO ME CW: violent thoughts, murderous intent, murder, gore, emeto mention
[Akira reacts, but not in the way Akechi expects. No blood for blood. No knife lodged in his back. A face unmarred - no bruises from fists.
Akira reacts in the one way he didn't prepare for after the series of dings warned him of a problem heading to his doorstep. There's a tremor that shakes him, a strain that surprises - Akechi's face stays neutral throughout it all. Concentrates more on how he should respond. How he should look. How he should meet this unknown variable lodged into his ad hoc plans.]
That's a complicated question - one I should be asking you.
[Slow, tempered and -
he ignores how blood starts to leak under the rim of Akira's glasses. A phantom drip, drip, drip against the wooden floor - keeps his gaze steady on the spot between his eyes, as if he can see through the fringe of black bangs.
There isn't a hole there. No matter and viscera leaking through. No splinters of skull destroying the face of someone who would only remain in his memory.
No, he-]
To be frank, I don't remember anything. I haven't been able to in full since arriving -
[Can't recall
Being hunched over the toilet's edge of a too pristine bathroom, with his fingers tugging at his hair. Elated. Delighted. Laughing until echoes bounced off walls of an apartment paid for with the blood of more than some shitty high school kid, a piece of criminal trash, who stuck his nose where it didn't belong.
He shifts his posture because Akechi should. One handed folded over the other, both resting against his stomach, eyes turning -
No where.
Staring at an unmarked spot on a 'friend's face because nothing was ever there and it might be there and it won't be there and it may be there an if he can wipe the memory from his mind because he's here and standing here and talking to him like he's here and-]
It makes me a bit dizzy when I try to reflect on it. Please forgive me, Kurusu. I know that's not what you're hoping to hear.
[And Akechi breathes, and stands tall, and speaks with feigned unease, as if Akechi gives a shit about any memory that may have held Akira Kurusu being gone. As if it troubles him. As if he's trying to shake off a dizzy spell. As if anything in this fucking shithole matters.
As if Kurusu Akira matters to him.]
Maybe it would help if you told me what you remembered. That face you were making troubles me. [A beat, because Akechi is supposed to care. He doesn't want him any further than this goddamn doorframe. Wants him buried deep underground. Wants him anywhere but here and-] Oh! You're welcome to sit down, if you want. I'm sure contending with the reality of this situation has been tiring.
you're mean to ME, going to bed at a NORMAL TIME like a NORMAL PERSON
[Akechi... doesn't remember? He doesn't remember anything?
Something about that is strange, though, isn't it? Maruki said he's never been able to get a straight answer out of him; Akira knows that falls in line with his behaviors. But Maruki also knew that Akira should know him...
...
...He can't be sure.
Does this place effect memories themselves? Maybe it's not just that Akechi is trying to hide things; maybe he actually does have pieces of his memory missing.
Wouldn't an existence like that be nightmarish? Akechi could be from the last time Akira saw him, and he wouldn't even know if Akira was an ally or someone that meant him harm.]
...It's alright. [His voice is quiet, but it comes out a little more subdued than he intended. Shuttered, as if trying to hide away the grief he spilled out all over the floor.] If you don't remember, it's nothing you need to worry about.
[Akechi could be lying. Akechi could be telling the truth. Akira doesn't think he'd be able to tell either way.
The only thing he can do now is try to gather information. That's always been the most important thing for him to do.]
Thanks, though. I'll sit in a minute. [With how restless he is right now, the thought of sitting makes Akira want to jump straight through the roof. He'll do what he can before that. Much easier like this to assess his surroundings, like a cat that needs to be at the highest point in a room.] Maybe I can figure out a few things without asking you too much. Do you happen to know if you met Maruki- [Akira stumbles. Shit. Maruki-san? Maruki-sensei? He wants to take a nap for twelve hours minimum.] -san here? Is this your first time... meeting me?
[The second question... He's almost certain of how Akechi will answer that, but it doesn't hurt to be sure. Either way, Akira is about to confirm a lot or come away with many more questions.]
cw: VIOLENT THOUGHTS - GOES TO BED EARLIER OUT OF SPITE, NEVER STOPS SLEEPING, NEVER RELENTS
There would be no relationship between them if he wasn't someone that could pick meaning out of the miniscule. Form connections out of staggered lines made from a honed blade, a sharper tongue.
But Akira is new to subterfuge and deception. Has more bonds forged than have ever been broken. Knows how to adjust, adapt and lie. Can manipulate and exploit as much as Akechi Goro.
Only one of them ended up affixed to a chair in a dingy room, bleeding from a hole in their skull. There's a limit to what Akira can do.
Akechi lets the conversation shift - an excuse bought for the moment. One he'll keep up for as long as necessary. Maruki clearly said nothing and-
Maruki. Maruki Takuto, who worked at Shujin Academy and had a strong relationship with a secret leader of the Phantom Thieves. Akechi knows through passing comments, allusions, memories of many realities converging into one. They've never spoken about Kurusu Akira, but Akechi can infer from a stumble in Akira's normally confident voice, notes the absence of a man who knew better than to leave them alone and would have only done so if-
Akechi once told him everyone had a limit. He almost wishes he could see what was happening. Take comfort in being right, as someone falls apart and collapses into rot.]
Maruki-san - [Repeated, slow. Assured. His eyes don't leave Akira. He'll get information like this - figure out where he's from like this.] Isn't someone I knew prior to being in this reality. Tokyo is massive, as you're well aware. It's impossible to confirm if he's from my world or not. However, after half a year with him, I have enough cause and reason to assume we do.
[And
Is this your first time meeting me?
Elicits a laugh - mirthless, at first. Feigned amusement after.]
And to your final question - in our reality, I recall meeting you. [Cautious. Careful. Give a little, take a lot.] While I may not know the exact circumstances prior to my arrival, we were well acquainted and spent time together on multiple occasions.
[His arms unfold and rest against his side. As if he's comfortable. As if they're digging into the truth out of the world, piece by piece, in a shitty little attic. As if he doesn't want to throw Akira against a wall and shoot until the Machiya is painted in shades of red.]
If I may go back - you seemed to hesitate at Maruki-san's name. I'm surprised - he claimed to be a counselor at Shujin Academy. I thought you would be well acquainted. [A pause, and-] Perhaps I'm reading too much into it. I have a bad habit of doing so.
i will simply have to destroy my sleep schedule even more so i can GET YOU
[It's not- unsettling to hear that laugh, that's a degree too far. But it stirs something within Akira, to hear the echoes of it. That laugh that was defeated, that had lost everything. There was simply nothing left to give. He doesn't think he'll ever forget it, especially when it haunts his dreams nearly a year later.
Akechi is still good, though; not caught out easily on the obvious bait that Akira laid for him. It's still an Akechi that he knows, then, even if "knowing" is a relative term when it comes to the two of them. The way Akechi describes their relationship could make him laugh, though, even if there would be no humor in it. If only things had been that way...
If things had been that way, then maybe...
It doesn't serve anything to think about it now, probably. But it is what helps Akira make a decision. Akechi has his cards as close to the vest as ever, so Akira will lay all of his directly on the table.]
No, you're not reading it wrong. He has memories of me, and seemingly important ones too... but I've never met him before.
[When he gets like this... the only way to counter Akechi is to meet him head on.]
When we spoke, Maruki-san talked about different realities. I don't entirely get it... but I think there must be something to it. Both of our memories are different, but both feel too real.
[It's difficult like this. He can't tell if Akechi is from a world with Maruki or not, but the most he can do now is try to push at this from every angle he can. Even if Akechi actually doesn't remember... Akira can still try to find any inconsistencies that can help build up the bigger picture.]
mutual destruction of sleep schedules for tags 👉👈 for 👉👈 little treats 👉💣👈
I see. That must be a difficult situation for the both of you.
[It's bizarre. A story told in few words. Akira doesn't hesitate to explain the situation - offers up a priceless gift with information that doesn't need teased out, as if they're old friends. It throws him off, as always, but the leader, Joker, Kurusu Akira was always like that and-
Continues to be that way and-
Stands in front of him, ever impenetrable, despite his open demeanor. A heart open and free, but not lacking the teeth to bite down the second Akechi slips.
And Akechi Goro won't. Never has. Never will.]
It makes me wonder if he was lying - with no one else to corroborate the story, that seems plausible. Adults often do strange things to get where they want, to speak to those they deem necessary. It wouldn't be a stretch to think he's one of them. It's far more common than one might think.
[It's not a lie. Not a stretch. Akechi knows now, more than ever, Maruki Takuto wandered the halls of Shujin Academy, and unleashed an undeserved, unwanted, grotesque kindness to those that came into that room. A man torn to shreds by his own crippling desire to heal once.
A man who knows the Phantom Thieves. Knows Akira. Knew enough of the two of them to form a reality with it. A world Akechi can barely remember - hostages and negotiators. It was no different than their true reality anyway. ]
But I wonder why he would be fascinated with you, if that's the case? Any ideas, Kurusu?
the 💣 really does perfectly encapsulate what opening this tag felt like
[Akira knows better than anyone that Akechi is an expert in lying, but that wasn't the entirety of their game, of the chase between them. It's also in the way that Akechi is able to manipulate the truth to his purposes, because what good does a lie do without a foundation at its back?
His mask doesn't falter so badly this time; he spent an entire month acting in front of him to fail like that twice today. But the doubt that slices through Akira's entire being is still enough to make him falter.
If a woman were to obscure the truth to save herself, even if he didn't know her-
-it still hurts to be be betrayed.
If Igor could lead him on while being the one behind it all, even if Akira had doubted him from the start-
-it still hurts to be be betrayed.
If Akechi could almost feel like a friend if he looked at him too long, even though Akira knew he was planning his murder-
-it still hurts to be be betrayed, doesn't it?
It shakes him down to the core. To have an old wound closed by someone he caused another in, only to doubt him now - it cuts Akira to the core. It's devastating, having the doubt poisoning the well of good intentions, knowing that it all could be about to happen again.
And yet...
That blood-filled sky. To know it and be able to see it means only one thing, and Akira has to remember that. Even if Maruki's intentions aren't pure... Even if it would hurt-
There's still a universal truth. He cannot ever forget what his bonds mean.
He cannot lose to Akechi Goro, because his bonds are what will make him stronger and untip the scales in this unfair game.]
We probably just got along well. Even from a first meeting, Maruki-san is... [How to describe it. How to even word that.] ...I think I could see why would we talk a lot, if I'd met him back home.
[It feels wrong, that he didn't get to. But maybe, for some reason, even as confusing all this is... maybe that's why he had to come here. To see Maruki.
To see Akechi-]
Even so, I'm going to trust him for now. He already knows something no one else would know, unless they'd gotten close to me.
[It's the truth, and it rings with it. But it's also a trap, laid for Akechi whether he walks in or out of it. Akira has to learn what he can, by any means.]
Thrill. Adrenaline. Tit for tat - a tug forward. A trap and olive branch held out with one single comment, waiting for Akechi to grasp it. He needs to be flexible and adapt his approach - they're both feeling one another out, which is telling in its own right, but there was tension between them even before Akechi pressed hot steel against his forehead and
shot
Without regret, without remorse, without mercy.]
How mysterious.
[And
Akechi
knows everything.
Maruki Takuto knew everything. Knows. Learned over time and with his own intuition. From realities merged and warped to distort their minds.
Akira is at a disadvantage.
Akechi wants to keep it that way and-
This is a dance. Relaying too little tells more than spewing the truth. Dangle a rope over a drowning man, a piece of meat over a lion's den - he can do it with some exercised caution, feigned unease filtering his tone.]
That could be any number of things, couldn't it? You're an enigmatic man with no shortage of secrets held under the surface. It almost makes me wonder if someone else could have relayed it to him.
[The Detective Prince, who knows about the Phantom Thieves. Akechi, who walked among them with his own will lay bare. Akechi Goro who considered it all meaningless and left a body to rot in a jailcell.]
Bonds can be forged after all.
[Born in fire of injustice. Warped around lies.]
Do you really trust that he knows that about you? Perhaps there's another here willing to put your secrets on display to the world and he took advantage. You had many acquaintances. Friends. We can't ever know how many inhabitants from our Tokyo reside in this reality or have, at one point. A loud mouthed individual may have told stories to another who never knew about our world and it was stated to a curious man with no shortage of free time.
Wouldn't it be interesting if all your trust was because of a mistakenly shared statement?
[A hand raises to his chin in pensive thought, as if the matter only occurred to him with Akira's appearance. As if he's truly vexed by the idea.]
That's only a hypothetical, of course. Something to keep in mind - I've been living with him for some time and have a decent grasp of his behavior and principles.
It's certainly a possibility. [His fingers tap against the table, voice nice and even.] But it's also one I'm not worried about.
[And finally, Akira sits. He sits, because there's no reason to stand anymore. Now, he's certain of it. Now, he knows that he has an advantage.
It wasn't really a surprise, though, even as it makes that empty space inside of him ache. The piece that Akechi needs to confirm any of this is something that he'll never have, because it comes long after his time.]
I trust Maruki-san, because I trust the people who know about what he told me. Even the ones that can be talkative... It isn't something they'd say to others lightly.
[He'd discussed it with the others, but Maruki is the only one he ever spoke about his theory to. Anyone else wouldn't even know that he'd made the connection.
Akira has enough confidence now that he isn't afraid. He can go on the offensive now. He crosses his legs as he gazes at Akechi, assessing his reactions.]
I'm noticing that you have a lot of interesting hypotheticals for someone you happen to be living with. [He tilts his head to the side; his glasses clearly show the sharp brightness of his eyes.] Has something about living with Maruki-san given you a reason to distrust him?
[Is Maruki hiding something? Is Akechi a threat to Maruki? He'll glean these as best as he can.]
yeah well maybe this is the one dont look any further than this line - cw:murder
[It once felt too easy to fall in line behind Akira as they stepped across piles of fake bills, the chatter of a casino overwhelming and yet it always came second to Akira's voice.
Akechi doesn't take orders - only feigns that subservience. A plan formed in the corner of a forgotten room, in a dingy foster home, doesn't look that different from one made on the fly in a pristine, untouched apartment. Exploit the exploitable. Follow a leader until a spine can be severed.
But Akira
was always different.
Certainty in the uncertain, confident in false worlds -
relentless and unshakeable.
A wild freedom in his eyes that Akechi wanted to rip free for himself - his eyes only, his heart only. He wanted to see how Kurusu Akira operated then, and so he followed to get a taste of that life for himself.
Their lives didn't mean anything, so what was the harm in stealing a small piece from each of them. They wouldn't be alive for long beyond that point - one person in particular, dead in a cold room. The others-
Likely to follow, if Akechi couldn't enact his plan before then. It wouldn't matter either way. One, two, six more bodies on a pile of them - it's all meaningless.
And so he follows now - Akira sits at a table Akechi has shared with another night after night and after night. The hum of Tokyo's evening news draws him to the bar, the clatter of curry pots ushers him into a seat next to an intruder, and the sight of Joker in a gaze subdued keeps him plastered to the spot.]
That's a difficult question, Kurusu. I should refute one implication of your statement now though - I wouldn't share a space with someone I couldn't handle, trust or not.
[The counter isn't wet, but he can feel the phantom residue of a freshly wiped counter creeping up his elbow. A comfortable, hunched position in a place where Akechi could be himself and here -
With Maruki Takuto
Whose entire being formed another safe haven for someone who lost theirs long ago. Akechi can't stand him. Hates this place, in this moment, more than he ever has. Hates Akira's legs dangling only an arm's length away, a throat closer than that.
Akechi doesn't look away. Doesn't stumble on his words. Kurusu Akira is someone he can handle too.]
But in the matter of Maruki-san-
[Maruki
doesn't
stop.
He's among the ranks of those who deserve to walk above the rot, and who are destined to be drowned in it under the weight of their own resolve.
Like Akira.]
You never truly know anyone. Not even a full view of heart, mind and soul can show everything. Intentions are missed, motivations are lost and some matters are meant to be locked up.
[His gaze remains steady against-
a quaint beige wall illuminated by colorful, vintage lights.
Against wood paneling that looks both worn and brand new.
Akechi
has
to play his part.
Because Akira dons his own mask, and Maruki will too.]
In saying that, he's also a man with an unshakeable resolve and holds a genuine desire to understand those around him. [It's pathetic. Akechi's face doesn't show it - only bares a thoughtful neutrality over a man he knows, and will never comprehend.] As an ally in this world, you could hardly do better. He's competent, resourceful and intelligent. [A beat.] You've met some interesting characters in your time in Tokyo - what's one more? I have no doubt you'll come to your own conclusion on the matter.
And when that day comes, I look forward to hearing it.
here queen u dropped ur cw: murder (jk there's still none in mine)
It's hard to read all of Akechi's thoughts, his emotions and desires; even if he feels like Akira's match, one mirror in front of another, they simply didn't spend the time together that they needed to know one other like that. As such, he can make calculated, often correct guesses, but ones that still have a little room for error.
He doesn't think that Akechi is one to speak highly of another person like this.
His face is neutral as he speaks, and somehow that's more of a window than if he had that camera-ready smile in place. The idea of them living together, spending time together, is so hard to wrap his mind around. He can't predict what kind of relationship they have. But for Akechi to say something like that...
...What exactly have he and Maruki Takuto been through together?]
You don't speak about him lightly. That's interesting praise. [Praise that's higher than I expected you to say, from how you were talking. He leans back in his seat, mind working quickly.] I'll just have to see for myself what sort of relationship we'll end up having.
[I'll have to wait to see if there's a day that I can look either of you in the eye without choking on my own guilt.
Maruki may very well be hiding something. Akechi always is, regardless of how many memories he's lost. But Akechi doesn't throw around a word like "ally" unless he intends to be one until the appointed time. This is one thing Akira knows.
Maybe it's fine, then, if he places his bets with the both of them.]
oh thank u puts it back up on the shelf cw: MURDER CONTINUED
You always manage to bring out the best in people and bring them to your side. I won't be surprised when it turns out well.
[The disdain that wraps around his heart doesn't shake his tone in the slightest. It remains steady.
He can't stand it. Knows for a fact that Akira will manage with effortless ease to intertwine himself in the lives surrounding this machiya and beyond. That he'll fill all the gaps in their rotten hearts with something stronger. False affection, feigned bonds. A free heart is unchained and seeking. A bound one wants nothing more than to be strangled.
And Akechi will be there to drag them back down - Maruki Takuto is on his level. He won't relinquish that hold - not now, not ever, not to some attic trash that gets a second chance in a false world. Eren, Aubrey - he can't allow it.
But the gracious, magnanimous leader is here in all his purported glory, settled comfortably and neatly at a table like it's his shitty little cafe. Like he belongs in Akechi's home, instead of an untouched, unmarked grave.
Maybe his parents were notified - Akechi never cared to follow up on the after. Some delinquent going missing doesn't even make the news these days. It was nothing to him to watch blood flow from an open wound on his face, and drip-
drip
drip
To the wooden ground-
The stone ground.
Akechi blinks and peels his eyes away from a floor he doesn't remember turning towards. Smiles and folds his hands on the counter, one gloved palm over the other.]
What's your plan now? I know it must be overwhelming to contend with this false world and I'm sure he's offered you a place to stay. [He can't stand it.] If I may confirm - we have plenty of space here and it would be beneficial for us to stick together for the time being. Of course, I know it will be an adjustment. [He can't stand it.] You can always leave when you get more acquainted with this reality if you so choose, but until then-
Well, what do you say, Kurusu?
a great spot... now they can see it every time they have dinner :)
[There's one thing that's for certain. Akira is here, settled comfortably and neatly, and he is watching. He is listening.
He ingests every word Akechi says.
And he watches every move that Akechi makes.
What was he thinking about, dropping his gaze like that? It's hard to say, because he doesn't know what's missing from him. He could simply be thinking of his own relationship with Maruki... or maybe it's one of Akira's bonds with someone else.
It couldn't be Akira's bond with Akechi himself... could it?]
Maruki-san offered me a place here, yes. [He starts out slow, not mentioning a bit of what he's thinking. He's back to the usual game of theirs; cards held close to the chest, not talking about things they actually mean. Like always, though, it's still a little bit of multitasking, because this is something that they need to discuss as well.] I told him I was still waiting to decide, because I wanted your input first.
[It would be beneficial for us to stick together for the time being.
Whatever Akechi remembers, it's clear to Akira that he's still operating the same way. He's either doing his best to play nice, or he actually does want Akira here for the sake of keeping an eye on him. Maybe it's even both.]
Even if we know each other, it's a lot to impose on someone to live together. If you want your privacy or otherwise, I don't mind staying somewhere else that's nearby.
[It's a lie, but Akira is good at those.
He's always been good at hiding it all. His wants, his likes, his feelings. It's easier to be what people need you to be if you don't let anything messy spill out. Expression perfectly impassive and calm as always. It's just as easy to hide that the loneliness of staying away would drown him alive, just as it's easy to not let on to the fact that living here would crack apart his heart every single day.
Focus turned away from himself. Questions asked to the other party. He knows what to do, same as always, even if the weight of the circumstances is more leaden than usual.]
It's a kind offer. I'd be happy to stay here, but I want to be sure. Is that what you want, too?
cw: murder, violent thoughts, suicidal ideation MAYBE??? yay 🔫🔫🔫🔫🔫🔫🔫🔫🔫
[Akechi watches with the same singular fixed gaze Akira now has on him. Had. Has never lacked in this entire discussion.
Is
that
what
he
wants?
More than anything. More than ever.
An enemy only two walls away. One one train ride away. Only one Metaverse overlap away.
A person that allowed Akechi in his world, once. Gave opportunities for Akechi to kill him with a turned back, cups of coffee pushed into his hand, insight into his life beyond his criminal enterprise.
It's his turn to repay the favor.]
I want you to stay. We're allies, aren't we? Friends, perhaps? Though I would hate to put words in your mouth.
[In the coming days, Akechi will turn his back to a once 'friend.' Press cups of coffee into Akira's hand. Wait for the night Joker slinks in through an unlocked door to press a barrel against Akechi's skull as revenge. As retaliation. As a rival. He wants it more than ever. Missed it, more than anything.
He holds out a hand - gloved, pristine. He wants to feel Akira - alive, so alive, completely alive. Warm and alive. Breathing and alive Akira.]
It sounds like we've come to an agreement. Let's shake on it. It's customary to do so and I find the symbolism of it important.
:) :) :) i get to do it now too :) cw: nightmares, blood, physical assault
If only they'd been friends earlier, then maybe...
Friends is a loaded word, one that fills his stomach with weights and puts a coppery tang of guilt in his mouth. Allies is safer. Indicative, as well, even if Akechi hadn't meant to give away that he's likely from a time that's after he blackmailed the Phantom Thieves. He's almost certain Akechi wouldn't have called them friends before that, with the yawning gap of distance between them, but Akira's surprised that he'd even use the word now.
It's not a word that Akira ever deserves to have applied to Akechi Goro.
Akechi, who understood how his mind worked better than even his most trusted friends, that wore masks in such a familiar way that it felt like a reflection of Akira's own self. Akechi, who betrayed him and dealt the worst kind of pain, even if Akira had expected it from the beginning of their arrangement. Akechi, who was a regular guest star in all of Akira's reoccurring nightmares, drenched up to his arms in blood and worse as he tried to staunch the flow from a bullet wound he couldn't stop.
The nightmares have never ended, but at least they're less than they were right after it happened. Sometimes he wonders what it means, to hope that he'll have nightmares that exaggerate everything that happened in the interrogation room - enough of the truth serum injected into his veins to make them burn, hallucinations dancing across his eyes, every limb dislocated and useless as he's beaten within in an inch of his life... to hope for that instead of seeing Akechi's death, when Akechi is the one who put him there, surely must mean there's something wrong with him.
He'd almost forgotten. He'd almost learned how to breathe around the emptiness in his chest. He'd almost been able to pretend that he was a happy person.
And now he can face it, all of it, all over again.
It's an alliance that Akira again has to accept, because it's too precarious to refuse. The guilt of it will scald him, and that's alright, because it's just an extension of what he still has to live with every day.
Maybe it's simply that his penance has finally come to collect.]
They aren't words that I hate. [Because it's true.] I'm glad you think of us that way. [Because it's what Akira would wish for, if anyone would answer his prayers bent at the glass of a Tokyo toy store.] Let's make it official, then.
[It's a forgotten key clicked back into place, the pages of an old well-loved book crinkling through his soul. It's the whisper of a bond, of a red string of fate snapped in half but stitched back together. It's the threads of wants and wishes and likes, masks and La Justice and regret, gossamer silk wrapped around his heart and wrists and throat.
It's Metatron humming in his chest, impossible to reach or to feel more than the ghost sensation of, because all must return to zero before it reaches the end.]
Rather than just an agreement... Let's make a deal.
[A ghost of words Akira wasn't the one to say, because he'll be haunted until the day he dies.]
For as long as I'm here, I'm an ally to both you and Maruki-san.
[He takes Akechi's hand in his to shake, firm and nostalgic.
For as long as I'm here, I'll bleed myself dry if that's what it takes to do what I should have.
In a world where the impossible is meant to make sense... maybe he can claw and fight his way to steal Akechi's life back with his own two hands.]
oh mny GOD : ) we can wrap here <3 cw: violent thoughts
Akira is fool - freed and tied down by a desire for bonds. A rope around a throat that tightens and tightens until he's dragged into a room to die alone. He doesn't even fight it. Walks into looped trap each and every time.
Akechi can do this again and again.
'I'm glad you think of us that way.'
He shouldn't.
Akira is a fool - he can do this. It's the same as ever.
Akechi's always one step ahead, smarter, ready to place blade into back, gun to head. There won't ever be a point when Kurusu Akira-
Plays him for a fool again. In this reality or the next - Akechi's ready. Prepared. Akira's up to something now - was then.
A flicker of Joker is always in his poised responses, languid movements, confident words. Akechi can't stand him.
'Let's make it official, then.
Become allies. Become friends.
Akira doesn't confirm their relationship - smart as ever, careful as always. Claims to be allies now. Will stay allies now.
In Akira's distorted mind, Joker is planning to have the last laugh. Is trying to lay the groundwork for it now. It won't happen. Won't ever happen.
Akechi's stronger. Smarter. A planner and exploiter.
Akira's better. A healer. Tactician. Uses empathy to exploit, willpower to turn that into gain.
'Let's make a deal.'
All Akira has to do is join him.
Turn his back on his friends.
Give up his ideals for good.
It's grounding in the worst possible way - a confirmation of the dire reality of this disgusting world, this horrible situation. A dead man walks, touches him, fingers over his, palm to palm - he's alive. No specks of crimson on his skin. He's alive with no putrid smell stinging his nose.
Akechi Goro can't breathe, so Akechi does. Akechi Goro can't smile, so Akechi does. Akechi Goro can't fathom the bright, burning warmth that surges through his chest - not joy, not grief. It's entirely new, a sensation that's only for Kurusu Akira.
Akechi lets go so Akechi Goro can breath. Akechi stands up so Akechi Goro can think and Akechi-
Motions to the rest of the room like the actor he was born to be.]
Well then - let me be the first to say it. Welcome home, Kurusu.
... 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. ]
[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.]
[ Dazai is, but one would never know it just to look at him. He's young enough, and the bandages cover him are telling of his experiences. Depending on the person, it could range from aesthetics to combat to simply accident prone. But with most people he speaks casually and easily, without a care, as he does now. ]
I can tell.
[ There's none of the smugness or condescension that might accompany those words, though. It's a simple statement of fact. There's no surprise in him being a person who would pick up hobbies for others. ]
It's easier than most people think. The hard part is ensuring that you don't make any mistakes. If you make even one, then your entire strategy will collapse... Hmm, playing against a novice is nice. You're much more motivated than others I've played against.
[ Chess is boring because he always wins. Go is boring because he always wins. All games are boring because he cannot lose. There's only one person who's truly been able to best him. But even winning has a kind of charm when against someone with earnest determination.
But more important than that, it gives him something else to consider - ]
Is that person here? Have you managed to win against them yet?
There's a sort of satisfaction when you win, but it's not the same as having a challenge. The latter is a lot more fun to me. It only drives me to work harder. [The knight clicks against the board; that seems to be the last of Akira's.] But you're right, yes. That person is also here.
[He's here, and yet-
This is one of the most peaceful conversations he's had yet, since arriving in Somnius. No expectations, and no pain except for the reminder of Akechi. He's simply being seen for himself, a player a little too clumsy at the chessboard, and there's something simply refreshing about it.
It's been days, and Akira finally feels like he can breathe.]
He's here, but we haven't had a game yet. There's been... a lot of other things going on that we're working through. [An understatement, but-] I have one against him once, though, when he was least expecting it.
[Akira isn't talking about chess, because he's only gotten close a few times when Akechi didn't count on him pulling certain moves. But Dazai doesn't need to know that.]
[ There's a thoughtful little hmm at the mention of winning against him. His demeanor doesn't shift in the least, but there's a brief sharpness to his gaze, the sort of knowing look that is exclusive to those who know far more than they should.
Dazai has never lost this sort of game.
It's brief though, there and gone as quickly as lightning strikes, and one might mistake it for having never been there at all. ]
I've never lost this kind of game. There's only one person who's managed to beat me, and it was at poker. Even then, I was able to best him... If you watch me and listen to me, you'll be able to best them in no time.
[ He doesn't pry into what they might be working through, because if nothing else, Dazai does understand that. It's a sore point that one shouldn't carelessly touch upon. Instead he grins and picks up a piece, waving it a little, ]
When you're playing games like this, you don't need to worry about anything else. In fact, if you're just worried about beating someone, if you're thinking about anything else than you've already lost.
[ There's a grin, a briefly smug look that might give a hint as to just how he won that poker game. ]
[Akira's fingers find one of his own pieces, a knight that he rocks from side to side ever so slightly.
There's only one person that's ever looked at him with such a penetrating gaze. He wonders how much Dazai can see of what's locked up in his heart. Akira didn't mind it back then, and he doesn't mind it now.
It's always a nice thing, to finally be seen.]
Keep your mind clear, play the game for the game itself... [He weighs the piece in one hand, Dazai's grin in the other. It feels telling.] You speak like it's from experience.
[He laughs a little, but it's directed inwards. He can't win if he thinks about Akechi or Dazai or anyone else, huh?
Maybe that's a little familiar, in its own way, but that's too bitter of a thought for such a nice afternoon.]
I should learn from you, then. Should I be calling you "Dazai-senpai" instead?
[It's said a little jokingly, but it's genuine in its way, too. He hasn't called anyone "senpai" since before he got close to Makoto and Haru.]
[ "Dazai-senpai..." He doesn't think that anyone's ever called him that before, but then, he can't remember ever going to school. He's not sure about it. ]
That's right! You have to! You're not allowed to call me anything else from now on!
[ It's just a joke, of course; Dazai-kun suits him just fine. He takes a moment to loop back around to Akira's first statement, ]
You're right that I have experience. I've only found one person who could beat me at Poker. It was really annoying to keep losing, you know?
[ Though Dazai has a bright expression, that of someone reminiscing on a particularly pleasant time in life, ]
I was able to beat him in the end by distracting him. I'm the only one who's managed to do that.
[It sneaks a laugh out of him, bright and a little more genuine than what he intended.]
Dazai-senpai it is, then. I'll be off to a bad start if I'm deliberately disobedient from the get-go.
[It's interesting, the way he lingers on this, though. It's a loss, but it's full of fondness, like it's something to look back on and be satisfied with.
To Akira, it's a familiar feeling.]
That example was about you, then. He must've been quite the opponent, to put that sort of look in your eyes. What did he say when you finally won?
"Even if you flip a card a thousand times, and a thousand times it come out as you expected, there is no guarantee that it will come out right the 1001th time."
[ And that very response is part of why Dazai had come to care so much. Odasaku was his 1000th time. He was something that he couldn't predict, a person who would say such strange things that he couldn't predict it.
That's why there's just the faintest of fondness here now, too. It's completely different, but it's been a long time since he's had someone who would so earnestly challenge him. If they play a thousand times, then perhaps the next one will be a victory.
Dazai prefers people who think in that way. He believes this is someone who can maintain it is as rare as it is fine.
Dazai-senpai... He doesn't dislike it. ]
... If you play chess with me 1000 times, then you might beat me on the 1000th time. If you do that, hm... What will we do? There have to be some stakes.
[ 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.
[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.]
[ The stumble over his words makes Maruki look over his shoulder. The sight of Akira, still and stunned, makes him fully turn around.
And the question makes an apologetic frown immediately break out over his face. ]
Oh, no– I didn't realize...
[ Truly, he didn't. He was so focused on being able to do something kind for Akira, he didn't stop for a second to think of how it would feel for someone he doesn't remember to know small, intimate details about his life. Rushing headlong into chaos, as ever...
Maruki rubs at the back of his neck, looks askance. ]
It was in your student file.
[ He's already decided that he won't lie to Akira about anything, won't obfuscate the truth even a bit. It would be too difficult to keep up any masks when Akechi already knows every bitter truth about him, and in some sad way, it's atonement. This Akira deserves better than how he treated his own. ]
We weren't able to celebrate it back in my reality, we were both too busy. I thought it might be a nice bit of normalcy for you here, but I see now how strange it must be. I apologize, Kurusu-kun.
[His throat feels tight, but that's because Akira is overwhelmed. He doesn't know how to feel. He doesn't know what to do with this great expansion in his chest, incomprehensible and all-encompassing.
He can't remember the last time anyone besides his parents knew his birthday. Can't remember the last time anyone did anything special for it, either. He doesn't even know Maruki, not the way that he knows Akira, and yet...
And yet. He still did all of this for him. Still thought of him, still cooked for him, still wanted to do something nice for him - for someone that didn't even know his name til he woke up here.
I haven't earned this, sneaks through his brain like a creeping vine, but he has to push it down right now. Maruki worked too hard for him to squander it.]
You- [No. Too unsteady. Try again. He doesn't like how this keeps happening around Maruki.] You don't have to apologize. It's just a surprise. [Almost unconsciously, his hand goes up to tug at his hair.] I'm sure Kawakami-sensei and the other teachers had access to it to, too, but she never said anything.
[None of them did. Even Kawakami, who he can finally think of as a friend. Maybe their relationship was still too transactional; maybe she felt too much guilt to contact a student, even after everything she had told him, yet still because of it. Only Maruki, the person fate decided he didn't get to have, was the one in that school who cared enough to look and think to do something, too.
It burns even as it soothes.]
If things weren't that different, I'm sure it was a busy time for me. [The phantom guillotine hanging over his head as every day brought them closer to the infiltration, excitement and nausea swirling together in his gut with every breath.] It's alright. We can make up for it now.
[Maruki has nothing to make up for, compared to all the things that Akira can't. But to turn him away for the sake of his guilt would be the worst cruelty of all, so he relaxes in his seat and fiddles with a napkin.]
[ The casual mention of Kawakami rattles something inside Maruki; for all he and Akechi have discussed about Tokyo, there are simply some connections that couldn't ever come up. Having Akira here, even if he doesn't remember Maruki, means things like this will happen now – hearing a fellow staff member's name brought up in passing.
But she didn't do anything for his birthday. None of the teachers did.
He's not surprised. Every reminder of that school leaves a bitter coating over his tongue.
He swallows it down, smiles as turns to put the soup stock on the stove to simmer. ]
Tempura udon. I hope you like it.
[ It isn't worth telling him that it was the last meal they shared together on that final day. Maruki doesn't want to put any more undue weight on this afternoon than he already has.
He glances over his shoulder as he fiddles with the temperature of the stove. ]
I know it hasn't been long, but are you settling in alright? Has anyone given you any trouble? I include Akechi-kun in that!
[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.]
[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-
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.]
You're back awfully late - is what I would like to say, but I suppose it's my turn to be the tardy one this time. No, I don't need anything at all.
[It doesn't get easier. Every interaction is a test of his all too worn patience, every thrown out allusion to a past interaction hardening a resolve encased in the same steel that shot through Akira's goddamn skull.
Akira has his knife. Akechi doesn't need to see it on his person to know that gift was accepted. He's still Joker and-
Akechi has his own weapons and persona at his disposal. A fight isn't on his current agenda, but standing by Akira's side posing as an old friend instead of recent foe is-
Exciting.
Annoying.
Makes him want to puke and throttle every forgotten memory out of his body. Strangled gasps would recall a bathhouse, slamming his head into wall would dislodge forgotten cafe memories. The urge to beat him until everything returns -
Is strong. He waves it off, like an irritating pest flying near his face.]
I won't keep you long. I thought it might be nice - while you may not remember, we did this often and it worked to clear both our heads. You've gone through a lot the past few days, after all.
[The words slip between his ribs, unguarded, like a chilled blade.
It seems- odd for Akechi to put so much emphasis on the time that they've spent together. Calling him friend was one thing, a way to appeal, but this is another entirely. The seed of doubt sprouts in his chest, and its leaves curl over a dulled sense of alarm.
If you didn't meet a whole entire person, what else could've changed?
He's not Maruki's Akira... but he may not be Akechi's, either. The thought has never left him since he arrived, but now it presses in on all sides. He's cornered by it, because it feels so very possible and real.]
Seems like I'm receiving a lot of kind gestures from you, today. [Akira pushes his glasses up before pushing away from the wall, back still just a little bit bowed. Casual. Relaxed. Ways he should always appear to Akechi, regardless of their placement in time.] You said we did this often?
[Remember, his brain whispers, or were the memories never there to forget?]
It should be a comfort that in every plausible reality, every mental manipulation of Kurusu Akira stands with that languid posture. Speaks with the same self-assured confidence that caught Akechi's attention under those blaring studio lights months ago.
He doesn't shy away from the topic, so Akechi meets it. 'You said we did this often'? incites. A prince is forced to act and keeps his expression neutral. Steady. Calm. Calm. 'You said we did this often?' how wonderful it must be for a leader to forget. How pleasant. It's easy - so easy.]
Often may be a stretch, however -
[It's the warmth of bathhouse water lapping at his chest, the dizzying heat, and a conversation that continues despite it. Steam warms his lips until until the easygoing banter between them dies naturally.
It's cafe outing after cafe outing, where they speak and talk and converse without concern of any fan's ire because Akira had done more to speak with Akechi than anyone in his entire life.
It's Akira touching him, unprompted. Unwanted. Impossible to stop and the memory of it -
The thought of it -
The fact only one of them thought it was important enough to keep buried in a heart.
He motions forward with a perpetually gloved hand - a short walk around the property. Privacy guaranteed in the outskirts, darkness from the trees surrounding shade.]
We conversed frequently and met up often. Small walks and outings, mostly. I enjoyed spending time at you home as well - it's quite the comfortable place to be. We played games together too. The last time we met up, you were getting fairly good at billiards.
[ 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.
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. ]
[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.]
[ "Hahaha!!!" BB loves this sort of thing, trolling another person and laughing about their detriments, "No. Imagine if you were casting a spell. Or changing a channel? You have to purposely think of me and the channel I am on to speak to me on there... At the moment, I don't think you will know how to yet, but BB can. So don't worry I can't hear your nasty thoughts unless you want me too?"
There is some added playful giggling there. "Anyway, I didn't tap in to bully you, though on a normal day, BB would... I wanted to have a talk with you about some serious things. Are you all right to chat?" ]
I need at least a few secrets to keep things interesting, don't I? [It's slow, but Akira works his way back onto sitting at the edge of the bed. He hasn't stopped feeling rattled, but he's able to roll with it better now. He doesn't bite at the "dirty thoughts" bit, though, because that feels like bait.] I'm free, though. I was just resting in my room.
[A spell, a changed channel - both of those are easier to conceptualize, so he does. It feels less like just... thinking. He can still handle this.]
Hehe, that's true, considering you don't stand out much, huh? [ BB teases, playfully. The tone of her voice is full of someone who wants to be playful and snide. ] Anyway, serious stuff... Wanted to let you know BB is giving up her powers to the crystal. So we will be disconnected from one another for a while... Wanted to keep it that way, too - as in, us knowing each other? We don't.
That okay with you? When her powers come back, you'll be the first to know. Seeing as, your seals will come right back to you. Hehe... Do you like the new tattoos?
[ There is a short bit of laughter that sounds a bit louder than how her voice had been coming through. Then, ] You're cute, thanks for worrying, Master ~ ♡! BB has a friend who said he'd keep her safe ♡!!
Until then, [ this is said with an air of fondness. ] make sure you keep yourself safe - okay~?
I will simply look the other day!! [ Akira can hear the jokeful tone in her voice. ] I guess though. Anyway, keep yourself out of trouble, and don't go doing stupid shit? I would hate to lose my Master before BB can even get herself back together.
[ 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.
[ 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. ]
[It's so unexpected that Akira's entire body goes rigid.
"Us knowing each other? We don't." "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.
I would say the same for you. You must have left quite the impression for her to accept you as her master.
[ Dazai's face betrays no emotion as he watches the other. He must have some understanding of the gravity of the situation. There's no one here to listen and even if there were, the locals have neither eyes nor ears to offer to them.
Though it might be too extreme to pretend not to know her at all gfiven what a public figure she is, it strikes him as inadvisable to advertise their specific relationship, particularly now when she's devoid of what makes her who she is.
His response is satisfactory. Preturbed, but not panicked nor defensive. He hadn't doubted BB's judgment, but it's encouraging all the same. ]
I'll get straight to the point: I've been collaberating with BB-s an for some time now, and asa person who's antithetical to her existence, I'm more aware of most of what a threat she poses. Due to her nature as an AI, the likelihood of her code breaking down increases with each passing day. I intend to find a way to mitigate the threat that she poses either by repairing her or killing her.
[ Dazai remains calm as he speaks, as though this were as simple as putting sugar in his coffee. There's a slight emphasis on the word killing, because it's nothing more than a filler for various options on how to remove her existence - entrapping, formatting, and so on and so forth; her coming back would be unacceptable. Dazai pops the lid off of the top of his coffee cup, and steam immediately wafts from it. ]
I was hoping you would work on me with that front, or at least prepare for a worst case scenario. Of course, you have no particular reason to. I'm aware that this is sudden.
[ Which is somewhat deliberate. Part of it is the simple fact that there's no sense in putting it off, but he also simply wants to see how the other reacts. He needs a partner in this - not someone to bear the weight, but someone who he can trust to work with him. Having offered his proposal, he takes a sip of his coffee. ]
[Antithetical? He thinks it, yet he doesn't ask about it. Not for now, at least.]
No, I don't mind. I'd like to help if I can. I'm not sure if I'm the best equipped for it, since I have about as much technological experience as the average high schooler...
[It aches through him, as it always seems to at the most unexpected of times. If it weren't him that had been chosen... If it was Futaba that was here... Undoubtedly, she would be able to be the support that they need. She would know what to do.
But it isn't her here. It's Akira.]
...but I'm aware our options are limited. If there's anything I can learn that will help, I'll do it.
[He's a fast learner, and he doesn't quit easily. Whatever they need, he'll figure it out and make it happen. There doesn't need to be an unnecessary death if he can prevent it.]
Even if you were an expert in the field, you would struggle. It is akin to both learning another language and studying an alien biology... But we have people here who can fill in the gaps that you and I leave. But you are willing to act, and that is of far more use.
[ He has no doubt that Akira could learn to code as well, and surely he might try, but it changes nothing if he doesn't. He takes another sip of his coffee, closing his eyes briefly as he considers what it is he wants to say, before opening them once more. ]
You have something like an emergency stop button, or perhaps you could call it a pause button... If you can at least press it, then others will have time to act. And if they're unable to...
[ Dazai takes another slow sip, then sets his cup down. ]
[He's almost unaware of how his hand is tightening on the chess piece until he feels the ridges of it dig into his hand. Akira relaxes it with a breath, but he doesn't break eye contact with Dazai.]
I'd like to avoid that if we can. Unless there's no other option, of course.
[Dazai has killed. Maybe Akira has too, even though he doesn't know if the one here counts, and outside of here he wasn't the one to pull the trigger. Akira doesn't count it against either of them, even if the Phantom Thieves' motto is that they should never kill.
But it would weigh on him. And he doesn't want a weight on Dazai, even if he isn't sure that he'd notice it.]
That emergency pause button... Does that have something to do with the mark that was put on me?
[He isn't sure, but it's Akira's best guess. Lightly, he taps the back of his hand with the chess piece, even though it's faded away since she gave her powers up.]
Yes. You've been marked as her "master," and that gives you a certain amount of power. If not hitting the emergency breaks, then you could think of it like yanking on a dog's leash.
[ Dazai drums his fingers on the table. He can imagine why Akira was chosen, just as he can understand why he himself was tasked with ensuring a favorable outcome.
The thought that the slightest misstep could lead to his own death, too, makes his heart beat a little faster. He's terrifying both for his intellect and his ability, but he's frail; beyond salvation if mortally wounded. It could kill him.
He can't allow it, not yet, but it's a nice idea.
He doesn't feel anything in particular when it comes to the idea of killing the AI, his friend, nor searching for a way to dispose of her in just the right way that she can neither die nor revive.
Some things are better left unsaid. ]
... But, this is only after we've exhausted all other options. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, and I believe that we can stop it from coming to that.
[Maybe it's a cold assessment, and maybe Akira is cold for simply nodding, but it does the trick of illustrating what the mark does. More than anything, it's a relief to know that he has such a powerful preventative measure.
But it still may not be enough. He's used to certain victories failing terribly after the last hour, so it makes total sense to him to prepare for anything.]
I believe we can, too.
[They have the means to counter the biggest opposition they have, so that's where Akira must put all of his focus.]
What's our best method for strengthening her code?
[It seems like an uphill battle, with no technology here but the flip phones and maybe anything they manage to wish for, but...
Dazai believes there's a way, and Akira trusts him. They can work through this.]
[ 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?
[ 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. ]
That's right. [Akira doesn't look up as he checks on the rice. Probably a few more minutes. His voice is nice and even, without any inflection as he continues.] If you don't come by at least every other week, you'll give Maruki-sensei empty nest syndrome.
[And he's going to leave it there. He intends to. He should. But the words creep out of him anyway, almost as if he has no control over them.]
...And I'll be disappointed too, if I don't get to share a meal with you every once in a while.
[ It's a quiet aside, mostly to himself, beneath Akira's words. Nobody needs to know how needy he is.
(Dolph absolutely knows how needy he is. Akira is probably on the way to finding out, too.)
He does smile into his drink at the admission from Akira. It doesn't surprise him that he and Dolph bonded as quickly as they did; even if Dolph didn't know about their connection, he's positive it would have happened anyway. Do they have any idea how similar they are? ]
And before you say anything about having to return the favor, don't. Although– the food you made for your birthday was really good...
[ dolph reaches out to ruffle maruki's hair. because he's taller than everyone in this room and thus, his divine right. he can understand that feeling as much as he understands himself. from the corner of his eye, he watches akira, his own expression inscrutable.
with eren and thorfinn, their motivations and feelings were easier to understand. the rage, the rebellion, the fight. he could read them like the back of his palm. with akira, it was the same and it wasn't. it hit a little too close to his heart. he's not sure what to make of that.
and he's certain it's the same for akira. all dolph has right now is the benefit of hindsight and the time given to him here.
try for me, dolph told him. but what did akira want from him, he wonders. ]
It's just the stuff Jean taught me. He's the better cook, as you know.
Someone taught me what I'm making for both of you now, too. There are small ways that it becomes yours, even if it doesn't look that way at first.
[A smile cast over his shoulder, small but true. Back when Sojiro taught him... Maybe he said things like that, too.]
Next time we get together, you can make it for us. I'd like to try your cooking, too.
[Cooking should be shared, so I'd like to share it with you. That's what he'd said to Izutsumi. That's what he feels here, too.
He isn't good with words, or wanting things for himself - except for the times that emotion gets away from him. But this, here, is something that he can do. He can share the meal that he knows best with the two people who frighten him with how quickly they cause him to spill what's in his heart.
It's a recipe that was taught to him by someone that put love and hope into every plate, and sharing that... Well. It's the least that Akira can do.]
[ It isn't difficult for Maruki to put together. Back in the true reality, his Akira never told him, but– Leblanc served curry, and Sakura Sojiro once tried to kick him out before his daughter(?) stopped him. He must have taught Akira, in every reality. That's heartening to think about... ]
I agree. I'd like that too.
And then, when it's my turn... could I teach you both how to cook something?
[ his brow knits closer to the metal half of his face. there is a sense of earnest confusion on his face as he grapples with those words. there are small ways that it becomes yours. maybe that's true for other people. but not for dolph. not when his desires, his self was so enmeshed with alex's.
one only had to look at club quartz for that. a replica of club prism, where he first met alex.
everything is just . . . a copy. a weak attempt to hold onto a person's interest. to be human inside. he looks down at his hands. fake and real, side by side. easy to tell apart when you look at him. so much harder to figure out. ]
If you like. I'm not sure . . . there's anything to get out of it. I'm not even sure that you can.
[His eyebrows climb, but only for a moment. He can't be certain, not completely - but Akira can take a calculated guess. He can reach for the words that he thinks could be the right ones.]
Let me ask you something.
[Cumin, cardamom, clove. His hands know what to do, even as his lips move. His head turns completely from the pot.]
Do you like seeing Maruki-sensei smile?
[Simple, but utterly direct. Akira doesn't mention anything about himself, even though Dolph has left him feeling like part of his soul has been scooped out. He knows which of these three he can say, without a doubt, are friends. He doesn't say anything else, either; he waits to see what either of them will say.]
[ sir, you are getting elbowed. lightly, but prominently elbowed. dolph huffs after that, pushing some of his hair away from his face before giving akira a long, inscrutable look. ]
Yeah, I do. If you say the magic of my cooking does that, I'm gonna walk straight out.
[It's so unexpected that Akira snorts before he can hold it back.]
Not exactly like that, no.
[Any joking edge to his voice slips away quick enough, turns soft again.]
If there's any magic anywhere, it's the smile itself and how you feel when you see it. [Coriander, black pepper. Has hand passes over the cinnamon and plucks up the nutmeg instead. Not this time.] It doesn't matter if someone else can make the food better. It doesn't matter what you think you can or can't do. There will always be worth in what your hands make.
[Akira gives Dolph a long look, before it breaks into a smile again.
"Is it... important to you?"
"You could said that. There's a customer I'm waiting on."]
Never let anyone steal the joy of putting a smile on the face of someone you like. Not even yourself.
his hands, as if one wasn't a weapon. his weakness and his power. a door into his head. his metal hand, stained. the property of a corporation that dictated his life. dictated what his hands are for. if you hated it so much, then just give it back lucy had said derisively. this hand of his had killed her. killed jade. killed alex.
perhaps it's easier to think about stolen joys. all I ever wanted was this he told the illusion of alex on the beach, then you had to go fuck it up. but that hadn't been his fault. it wasn't his fault he had to stop loving alex. it wasn't his fault that he couldn't when it's all he ever wanted to do.
so. where to start with this? he doesn't know. he gets the point of it. dolph is his own enemy. everyone's got their own enemy in them. he saw akira's enemy within him not long ago, when he asked for the promise.
he gives a light huff. ]
Yeah, I see it.
[ with a touch of apologetic contriteness for his words, dolph meets akira's gaze. ]
Sorry. But all that stuff was stolen from me long ago. I couldn't tell you what anything is worth. And I know fuck all about joy.
All I'm doing is making it up as I go along. And hope for the best.
It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks something is worth, or what they think of joy. The only one who gets to decide those things for you is yourself. [He's looked away for about as long as he can afford to; he breaks eye contact, hands flying over the pot.] It's alright if you don't know yet, either. Just like with those preparations you mentioned to me... it's not something you have to know right away.
[A home that felt hollow, colorless, then full of betrayal. Tokyo felt like where his life began.
He's almost certain it can't compare to whatever deep wounds Dolph experienced. But maybe he knows the steps that are similar enough to help.]
You're the one that decides those things for yourself. I can't tell you how you should or shouldn't feel about something. But I can tell you what worked for me. [His eyes fall shut for just a moment, several faces flashing in his mind's eye - and then quick enough, he's back to work again.] I did what I think you've already started to do. I found myself surrounded by people that knew love. I let their kindness teach me and help me relearn things I thought I'd forgotten. And slowly, everything else fell into place.
[He became happy. Even in the times that he felt hollow, even in the times he felt grief... They helped him be happy.]
Keep finding your way.
[And then, ever so slightly, his voice shifts into something firmer. Deeper.]
Steal back what was stolen from you. Make this life yours.
[ It isn't Maruki's place to say anything on this. It's meant for Dolph, but–
He is in the unenviable position of knowing Dolph's story. Of knowing that there is nothing left for him to steal back.
While Akira speaks, Maruki shifts his chair a bit closer to Dolph's, enough so that he can rest a hand against his back without calling too much attention to it. A calm, warm, anchoring weight.
[ his voice sounds so distant from himself. who is even speaking? dolph laserhawk? or captain laserhawk? it probably doesn't even matter. they were both abysmal failures. dolph couldn't even make someone love him. captain laserhawk couldn't even save a single person. ultimately, they are the same in that regard. it doesn't matter which person he wanted to be. there's no going back. there's no turning back the clock.
even now, he could be owned by someone else. all it would take is his weakness to be revealed and whatever person he chooses to be can be erased. a few strokes on the keyboard, an inserted virus and it'll be like he never existed at all. he could stand right there and it'll have as much weight as the air around.
he's standing right here and — it's unbearable. he could flicker out right now and it'll be maruki and akira in the kitchen. cooking. eating. laughing. nothing will be missed. nothing will be noticed. a ghost? laughable. he'd be lucky if he even counted as one.
but akira is still right. so dolph inclines his head towards him. he doesn't bow under the weight of those words. he can suffer that kindness. that hope. it matters. to say it at all still matters. it hasn't fallen on deaf ears. just someone who was never here at all. never meant to be.
( idly, he wonders if holloway wiped the bloody smear on the ground. did he take a pause? did he look upon it and — )
dolph just shakes his head. gives a sharp smile. ]
[For a long moment, two, more- he's quiet save for a hum that couldn't be called agreement or disagreement. The last of the ingredients are in the pot, so he covers it to simmer. Leaves a strainer by the side for after. Roughly, he'll have fifteen minutes uninterrupted by the cooking process, so long as he doesn't forget to stir.
He lets himself think. Lets himself mull over those words and that too sharp smile.
Usually Akira is careful. He's good at reading people, at figuring out what they need. But when he feels too much, he pushes too hard. He knows he certainly did that with Morgana, and probably with Haru, too. Even the mistake that almost cost him his existence didn't train him out of his bad habit of getting lost in the big picture.
He isn't sure if he's done that now. He doesn't know enough of Dolph's story. But what he can do is try to understand.]
Do you think so? [Akira finally turns to look at him again, leans against the counter.] What do you think of your life, right now?
Well, no one's tried to kill me. Or enslave me. No betrayal either. So, pretty good I'd say.
[ and it is the truth. life's never been better, here in this bubble reality. like he stepped out of holloway's virtual reality into this one. free from the cycle of betrayal. free from the rage and the sorrow. best life he's ever had.
[His hands are uncharacteristically still. In a few short words, Akira has grasped more of Dolph's story than he has up til now, and it's more grim than he anticipated. Of course things are good here, where it doesn't feel like everything is against him.]
Some people... They hate it here. They think of this place as a cage. [Eren. Akira doesn't disagree; too much of him can't stand being backed into a corner to feel complacent. And yet...] But I think even a cage can have miracles inside of it.
[He knows it can. Lived it, back home, and he's watched it happen again now.]
No matter what tomorrow brings, you still have precious things you found here.
[ his voice is firm on that. any place that locks you in. never offers a choice. never lets you leave. it may be a nicer cage. a favourable one. but dolph knows enough of cages, pleasant and cruel, to feel the bars. even the virtual reality he stepped in . . . that was a cage too.
it was just a cage with . . . alex. the alex he knew. the alex he loved. the alex he always thought existed. the good man. the man who loved him. a fantasy.
but that has often been the case with people loving dolph.
still. he takes some pity on akira now. ]
You're trying to convince of life. Of more. But I know all that. And I know the end. I hold both in equal measure. There's no escape.
Let it go, Akira. You have other people to see to. I'll be here. Until dream's end.
There's only one thing that really can be, can't it.]
Maybe that's true.
[Maybe it is. Maybe Dolph has seen it. Maybe Akira has, too; in one sense for himself, and in the realest sense for someone else.
But Akira exists again. And that person lives and breathes again, too.
He can't talk about it now. Not now, not in front of Maruki, and maybe they're things he shouldn't say to Dolph at all. But it still burns in his chest, that he's here for a reason.]
It doesn't mean I won't see to you, too. [His fingers finally move; one of them, just the index, with the slowest rhythm.] I'll wait with you, even if it's only to the end of the dream.
[He's here in this place for a reason, but it doesn't have to be for the reason he was called here.
There is someone he will save. And if he can overturn that fate...
Maybe he'll fail. But it doesn't mean he won't fight, even if it tears his soul in two. And it doesn't mean he can't try for Dolph, too.]
[ perhaps he should take that seriously. it is earnest. meaningful. it's not lead in his heart and in his chest, though the ache remains. or perhaps that's just the old phantom pain of being shot in the chest. tears mingled with the sound of gunfire. but maruki is here, listening to every word so dolph has little to fear. maruki wouldn't let anything happen to akira.
when the dream ends, maruki will claw them out. akechi and akira. maybe eren too. he doesn't know if they ever discussed it. they probably have.
but. not dolph. he'll be here. he has nowhere left to go.
still. it is a promise. an oath. dolph has made the same for people here. and he meant them. he always had. so he understands this too. it's strange, seeing the similarities. like a ghostly imprint. like the person he —
never mind that. ]
It's a long time away, I'm sure.
[ he smiles, reaching out to grasp his shoulder lightly. ]
You see, since we're all new to the city of Stellari and its unique inhabitants I've taken it upon myself to run tests on the effectiveness of the medicines they offer here. However, I realize a good majority of the dreamer population is human, so I can't in good conscience recommend this medicine to any of my patients without knowing their effects on the human body.
Wonderful! I don't have a proper office just yet so we would be doing any testing from my home if that's alright. I keep everything squeaky clean and sterile while I'm working, I assure you.
And I've already found a number of stimulants offered, yes!
That's perfectly fine. Sometimes businesses aren't the easiest thing to get started here, especially considering relations with the locals right now, so we have to make the best out of it.
I think my only requests would be starting with those stimulants and asking a few more questions first. Otherwise I'm happy to assist you.
I think most of them can happen now, unless there's anything you'd prefer to answer in person. Mostly I just wanted to get to know you, if we'll be working together.
I'd say yes to both. I had a strong interest in the inner workings of bodies since I was young, and someone was kind enough to point me in the right direction.
It's no problem. I appreciate the consideration, though.
My body's used to some strong medicines from undergoing medicine trials back home, but there's no telling what effect some of the local medicines will have on me.
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?
stares at the sun. cw: violent thoughts, violence, idk don't ready this if u dont wanna see a fight
[It's why Akechi loathes Akira more than anyone. There's an equal degree of cunning intent in his actions that rivals his own.
But Akechi is patient - far more than the leader of the Phantom Thieves. There's years of proof behind it. Only months under Joker's heel.
And he is patient
So patient.
And he has always been perceived as prey
So he watches a predator tread the earth around him, looking for an opening, a way to trap and-
It doesn't matter when a web has weaved around Joker's body from the moment they met. Little strands, small loops - Akira's bonds are his weakness. The way he looks at Akechi is a weakness. The shared wish to fight, to meet sooner, to remain allies-
Akechi can throw it away. Akira can't. Won't. The festering wound covers Akira in the form of every single person he's ever known. It makes him exploitable. Easy to ruin -
So why isn't he ruined?
Akechi doesn't take a single step forward to attack. No persona manifests. The waves of brilliant blue lap around his ankles.]
It's obvious, isn't it?
[He won't attack, but he'll warn. He won't start - will only raise a hand with a blade that's seen as much battle as the weapons he used in the Metaverse. They're close - so close. Akechi could take two, three, four steps and slide a dirty blade into flesh that should be marred beyond recognition.]
There's a theory - thesis, antithesis. I told you they can't exist without the other - that for one form to occur, the other must be in its shadow, but this isn't because they're opposites. Far from it, rather.
It's because the failure of one requires the other to exist. The weakness of one mandates the other appear. They can't exist alone because their flaws are too grand. Isn't that funny?
Or some scholars believe - who can truly say. My point is it's poetic in a way, don't you think? The scum of society must have a reflection. A pristine image must have a shadow.
[A prince and a thief.]
Whether it's fate or will - it'll always end up the same way. So I'll tell you this, Joker -
[Blade back to side, fingers pressed to forehead.]
No matter how many times you come back, I won't stop.
[It's a pose Akira knows - in his dreams, in his nightmares, in his passing thoughts.
Akechi won't be goaded to steal first move. Not by anything that Akira's actually willing to do. He knows this, as he knows he must be the one to strike first. He keeps circling. It would be smarter to strike from the back, the sides - but he won't do that, either.
It's not how he does things. Not how they do things.
Because they both know what this fight is for. They have no need to hide themselves behind anything anymore.]
I wouldn't have it any other way.
[He comes to a stop at the front of him. He has a basic guesstimation of what Akechi might use without his Personas now, but there was never anywhere else he'd come at him from.]
Because this is what we're meant for.
[This what I've waited for.
And I'll never lose it again.]
I'll never be weaker than when I stand before you.
[Together, they will fight.
Together, they will live and breathe. They will laugh and their mouths may meet.
Together, they will die.]
And I'll never be stronger anywhere else.
[At once, his gifted dagger is in his hand. He spins it only once.
I'll never lose you again.
His world narrows down to Akechi Goro, thoughts shutting down as others work faster than ever before. Hi feet launch him forward, heavier than the Metaverse but still true, and his blade is up and catching the light.
They're inherently inequal. The power of an unchecked god lies within that man's soul. Eden thrives under him, souls and lives held in the palm of his hand.
The only time Akechi has felled him is with his own two hands, with surprise assaults.
Akira moving forward with a blade in hand, eyes on him, only on him, staring down Akechi Goro in the dwindling sunlight is invigorating in the same way. It feels like winning before their bodies even clash.
And it's different with Kurusu.
They're inherently equal. Always toeing the line - Akechi's more experienced, stronger, faster.
Akira's adaptable, unpredictable and wild.
A chill crawls up his spine, hackles raise, heart beating fast because this is all he wanted, this is what he craved, this was his only regret in that disgusting cellar that holds the corpse of someone. Akechi killed Akira with his own hand - a smoking gun with an all too light trigger under his finger.
He wanted more.
He wanted this.
He wants to be
cut down
by a daring thief and he wants to-
rip Joker apart
When he mistakenly thinks victory is seized.
No persona. Doesn't matter. Akechi guards with a vile laugh, streaks of vivid blue crawling up his body - he could summon Robin Hood here. Akira knows. He could summon Loki here. Akira knows.
He doesn't. He makes an attempt to parry Akira's dagger and if successful, makes a downward swipe with his own towards his shoulder - Robin Hood at the cusp of his heart, ready to attack, ready to be summoned, resting on the tip of his tongue.] Don't tell me you made me wait all this time just to swipe at me with a pathetic little knife? Stop screwing around and show me that power you've been graced with. Take this opportunity to show off, Joker.
cw: blood, violence, stabbing; smacks ur face with a d1 til it does something
[Akechi's laugh, Akechi's words - they rattle through his bones with so much nostalgia that he thinks his vision blurs.
Akechi.
Blades catch and sing against one another, a symphony that his brain remembers the dance steps to.
I waited to see you for so long.
Blue flickers at his feet, flame ready to take, a soul remembering how to rebel.
I wanted this for so long.
It doesn't matter how much time passes between summoning his Persona, or how long it's been since he clashed with Akechi Goro completely unrestrained.
I buried it down so far, but it still... never changed how much I missed you.
It doesn't matter if the playing field is different. It doesn't matter if they're different, because one thing will always remain the same. Kurusu Akira will always, always
be trapped by the weakness of his own heart.]
Ghk-!
[The flame at his feet cuts off, and red paints the ground at their feet.
His hand goes up to staunch the blood rushing from the wound, but Akira knows it's deep. It burns as he holds it. It's my right side, too. Goddamn it.
He has to hurry, now. Akira has no way to heal, and that means he's on a time limit. Beneath his fingers, he can feel his life beating away.
He should be worried - and he is. He should feel his veins fill with adrenaline, fear, animal instinct - and they do.
But it's everything that he wants, and that's why he can grin, wild and manic and without a single chain holding him down. The one that stands before Akechi Goro is Joker.]
If you wanted to lose so quick, Crow- [The grin doesn't falter. The blue resparks and swirls.] -all you had to do was ask me nicely.
[A god has wiped him out of people's minds before. He's had to make a victory out of a complete and total defeat. Akira has made something out of nothing.
He won't lose now, even if he has to drag his body mangled and bleeding across the ground to land the final blow.]
Come, Arséne!
[And there, at his back, he's here.
His soul is here, a laugh echoing whispers of dragging the enemy down to their demise. Akira hasn't been parted from him as long as he was before, but it still feels like a puzzle piece clicking back into place. And just in time, because they have no choice but to give it their all if they're going to survive.
The timer starts now.]
cw: blanket its a fight thread so fight things happening roll
This is his Kurusu Akira - the one who ignites with the same fierce determination in the midst of challenge. The one that exists in his peripheral vision, in all parts of life, beyond death. Kurusu Akira is here and he's the one that makes the first brutal clash.
And it's Kurusu Akira who bleeds. It's Kurusu Akira that reels from the vicious attack that paints everything, drowns everything, leaves pinprick splatters on his shirt. It's Kurusu Akira that mirrors the same manic glee Akechi can feel pulling at the edge of his lips, every word tugging, teasing, shredding the veneer of perfection between them.
Akechi Goro was meant to be perfect. Born to be perfect. Tore himself free of rot to be perfect and-
Akechi Kurusu was meant to be perfect. Born to be great. Tore himself from the chains that bound him down. Didn't. Wasn't. Stands tall - reckless, wild, and-
Free.
And Akechi Goro is a reflection of it. Akechi Goro is free with the flowing red taking over Akira's body, Akechi's own vision. In a mark left by him, one that will remain, one he'll rip open again and again as a reminder of the vast difference between them that exists - a gap formed from Akira's mercy and Akechi's cruelty.
Arséne
is Joker.
Robin Hood
is Crow.
Loki
is
The Akechi Goro he wants this Kurusu Akira to see. The only match for Arséne. The only clash of will that matters.]
Manifest, Loki!
[He's free. Completely free. A heart running wild, beating beating beating. A heart unchained, unbound and all he can think about-
Is ripping the carbon copy in front of him to shreds. Tearing his skin with clawed armor Akechi no longer has access too, but the knife clutched in his grip will do. And he's sure Akira will smile. He thinks Akira will smile. Akechi doesn't give a shit if Akira smiles - hopes he can see it twist with every slice of his blade, watch joy turn to agony, know that Maruki will have to pick up the pieces of Kurusu Akira in this fucking field.
Attack Master ignites his heart. Body poised to lurch forward at the smallest opening-
At any opening-
Now with a too light push against the ground, with his blade tossed between his hands, from right to left, and ready to arc down on an already gaping wound. Laevateinn as the follow up, whether Akira dodges or not.]
You won't survive this time - I'll make sure of it. With my own two hands, I'll crush you until there's nothing left! I'll massacre you!
these are gonna help Future Yama when she has to bank a single proof for three lines of cws (d19 <3)
[He can feel it breathing down his neck. Akechi's killing intent.
Before, he did this, too. Going in to crush when defenses were low, when guards weren't up. Akira recognizes it. He knows he has to dodge correctly, or his life will be forfeit.
His heart beats against his chest, at his pulse points, where he holds his own blood back from flowing. His breath is both quiet and loud, distracting and centering. Focus. Focus.
There is nothing else he needs to think about but Akechi Goro and Loki.
He waits, waits, waits. Waits right up until the moment the blows will be struck. The blades come down, Laevateinn tears at the earth, and Akira is
already up in the air, backflipping to MISS the attack that's coming.
Christ, it's so much harder to jump like this with the normal rules of gravity. He can feel the pull, the strain, the ache where he's injured and even where he is not.
Akira lands, eyeballing the shattered earth that now lies between them.
He makes two decisions in rapid succession. The first - he must bind the wound on his shoulder. He can't fight at full capacity if he holds it down the entire time. He tears part of his sleeve apart, starts talking to occupy Akechi while he tries to make quick work of it all.]
Looks like you missed a little bit. [His tone could almost be bored, if it weren't for the clear hunger and excitement hanging beneath it all.] But that's alright. I'll give you another shot soon.
[Goading, because he has to, because Akechi won't be stalled by idle small talk - and because he wants to. He loves talking to Akechi like this. He loves seeing Akechi like this. He loves being this way, both of them, completely unrestrained.
Unrestrained, so he lets it slip out, too.]
I like seeing you this way. Wild and free. Nothing holding you back, the way it should be. [A firm tie.] This is the way you're meant to be when you're across from me like this. [A secure knot.] So don't leave me disappointed!
[His body goes low to the ground, dagger flashing behind his back. Ready to kick off, as Arséne winds up.
His second decision.
He's already hurt, clock already ticking - so hurting himself more is a worthy trade. A One-shot Kill will even the playing field, unless Akechi is quick enough to dodge it.]
listen sometimes the (cws) are the (friends) we made along the way. d3 lol
[A gunshot rings in the back of his mind, his final memory of Joker-
Not silent and still in the empty room - Akechi almost wonders how he fell for that shit in the first place.
It's the one that stood tall in the midst of a world meant for the two of them alone. Gravestones with no names as a backdrop, a distorted disgusting world manifesting from the rot in both of their hearts.
And in this moment-
It feels like this world was meant for the two of them.
To meet.
To be free.
Akira no longer surrounded by his gaggle of simpering idiots. Joker no longer backed up by a group he doesn't need. Akechi toys with the thought of asking him, once more, to abandon his little group - trap him in a contract forged from a violent clash.
Doesn't. Because he couldn't stand if Kurusu Akira said yes.
The words reach Akechi as he's preparing to attack - as he keeps the dagger pointed forward, eyes boring into Joker and only Joker because it's only ever Joker that speaks in a way that makes his heart burst with the same undeniable frenzied joy that spawned Call of Chaos into existence.
'I like seeing you this way.'
'This is the way you're meant to be when you're across from me like this.'
'So don't leave me disappointed!'
It takes a moment for Akechi to realize those own words didn't leave his lips. That it was Kurusu Akira talking and Akechi Goro listening. His lips feel dry anyway.]
What do you know? You who forgot everything! You don't know me - stop acting like it! [And Akechi knows Kurusu. Akechi knows Akira. Akechi knows Joker. Akechi knows everything.] You always do this shit - you try to act like you know everyone- [And he does. And he does. And he does.] Try to get everyone on your side. Try to be something more than that disgusting attic trash you are - I'm not fooled. Not for a moment. Look at you, Kurusu Akira. You're nothing. You're worthless!
[He's rotten. Rottenrottenrotten and Akechi-
Wants to see more.
A calculated error occurs when he does - maybe not one at all. He doesn't give a shit if he's hit. Doesn't care as long as his eyes stay fixated and set on the man in front of him. One Shot Kill hits. Strikes him. A piercing light crushing his chest in a single blow - something cracks and breaks because of it. A rib, maybe two. The Metaverse isn't here to buffer their blows and-
It hurts and he's happy. It hurts and he wants to see more. He can't breathe and he thrives. He can't breathe, so he charges forward with blade ready, Riot Gun to stun or block his companion in.]
He watches Akechi, and Akira smiles, fragile and fleeting.]
You're right.
[It's a smile that's terribly sad. If Akechi focused enough to look, perhaps he'd see how mournful it is.]
I have been worthless.
[Basking in the warmth of his friends. Smiling and laughing over the hole in his heart.]
If you'd seen me, living my life the days before I got here - I think you'd see it. I think you'd know. You've always been able to see right through me, so you'd see the emptiness I covered with so many masks.
[Akechi is charging, furious as a predator defending itself from harm. Full of defensive vitriol, and Akira doesn't intend to rise to the bait, just as he didn't before.
Except that...]
I've been worthless without you, because no one will ever know me the way you do. Just as I'll know you better than anyone else. Because Kurusu Akira and Akechi Goro will be like this, in every life we ever live. [He's close now. Almost close enough. Akira's entire body tenses, and for the first time - something close to anger twists his face.] I forgot? I'm putting an act? You're smarter than that, so act like it. If you're going to be on the other side of an argument with me, do it with something that isn't complete and total bullshit!
[The moment Akechi's close enough, Akira slips to the side and kicks him where he's injured, hard. He lets the momentum push him back and away; even if he doesn't go down, Akechi should at least be off balance for a few seconds.]
The other Akira knew you better. I envy him for a lot, but that's one of the greatest things of all. [His voice is calm again. Placid.] But you still fight the same way. You're reckless with your body when you're injured.
[He waits this time, to see what Akechi does. If Akira lets him... will he just tear himself apart?]
What does he know? How can he know? How could he think he knows and-
No one will ever know me the way you do and-
noonenoenenoonenoone because he's special Akechi is special he's a mirror to a boy with an unbound heart and no one knows and no one will ever know and-
In every life we live Akechi will be there. Akechi will kill him. Akechi will kill him.
I'll know you better than anyone else.
The ground bleeds when his body slams into it. Akira's strong. This one is strong. His Akira will always be strong and in any reality where they interact they will always be strong. They've fought one on one - Akechi knows better than to underestimate him. Didn't. May have. No longer does now that a wild, vibrant man consumes his vision.
He's up in a second - moves a step back after two. Loki appears with a laevateinn, but not even the smack of that violent blade can muffle the laughter from Akechi's lips.
Of course it's Akira. Of course it's Akira. Of course Akira would say that. Of course. Of course. Of course.
And he'll rip himself apart to prove that undying, otherworldly bond.
And he'll move forward to attack behind Loki's blade with his own risen high as if he's one using laevateinn in its stead.
In that moment, I am thou, thou art I doesn't feel like it belongs to Loki.
It's with Akira. It's between them. Those wild dark eyes are a mirror he wants to shatter. An image he wants to rip. They're the same, so he hates him. They're the same, so he'll understand why Akechi will never stop. He'll destroy that air of calm. He'll free Akira from that mask. He wants to see-
Something that isn't complete
and total bullshit]
And you still do this shit! All this talk, all your delusions about what you think you know - I don't give a damn what you say!
[Call of chaos consumes. Devours. And he wants to consume and devour and he sees Akira before him and thinks nothing about making him easy prey.]
But I'm happy to oblige - I'll rip your body apart until there are no masks left! Allow me to do the dirty work and your corpse will be payment for it!
d**20**???????????? i can't believe akechi goro is freakin dead in february
[ You won't get away from this, Akechi sounds like salvation. A chime of bells outside of Eden and Akira's voice leads the choir enticing him in.
And of course he'll walk through those doors and of course he'll walk along the velvetine carpet and of course he'll look into the eyes of an executioner hiding among lambs and of course he'll lean into the noose and of course-
It rings and rings and rings and beckons and makes him feel something, makes him feel anything, creates a hellfire that explodes through body and mind. He wants more. He wants more.
And even as he watches Akira falter and hopes for his fall because he should fall and Akechi wants to drag him down, all the way down, completely and utterly coated in muck and grime until there's nothing left of Kurusu Akira and there's nothing left of Akechi Goro and there's nothing left for the world to take from either of them.
Splintered bone scrapes the inside of his chest when he forces himself back up and-
He can only get an inch, two, three off the ground before his lungs constrict and he gets another inch, two, three off the ground before his skull splits, it must be splitting, it's never felt this agonizing and his own hollow laughter continues through the blood coated spittle covering his lips.
He watches Akira and Akira isn't collapsed on the ground so Akechi must get up.
It feels like
joy.
It feels like
joy.
He thinks he feels joy.
And he chases that high by pushing up, up, up and getting nowhere. He can't get up. His back hits the ground instead of his chest and he can't get up. ]
You really are remarkable. After all this time, I still can't win. Even so-
[ It hurts to speak, so he continues. It's not death. He won't die. Kurusu said as much and that thrill of being alive is foreign. He's grasping at it with every exhausted, wheezing breath. ]
It's never been in my nature to give up. Against you of all people - no, I will never stop!
[ And from the ground, Akechi pulls a gun from his hip. A gift. More fitting than ever. A guiding light in his increasingly desperate attempt to stay focused. His aim is lacking, but all he needs to do is hit a body. It will hurt.
Upon 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.
It's just unfortunate timing, I think. Nearly everyone I know was either giving chocolate or receiving it from someone.
That's true about spring, though. There are all sorts of allergies and sicknesses people have to contend with normally, and this is a foreign environment for so many of us. At this rate, springtime may be an even bigger challenge than usual.
[Could it be from the non-natives being visitors to this reality...? He'll have to do some investigating when he has a little more strength and find out if the locals are also being affected by this.]
I have to wonder if there's gas masks here at all. Would they be too modern for this place?
Even if there's not, though, there's probably nothing stopping you from wishing for a gas mask at the crystal. If it goes well, it might even be a stylish one.
[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.
Really? It's even better than I anticipated. I knew it led to a clear head, but I wasn't sure how long it would last. It's more effective than I could have hoped!
[ 𝅘𝅥𝅮🎜𝅘𝅥𝅮
> Dazai is excited. ]
Do you think it should be spicier? Odasaku seemed to like it, but others said it could be spicier.
Maybe this'll sound surprising after the competition, but I enjoy spicy and mild curries pretty equally. I think they both have their own merits and advantages.
But I'm also used to matching for other people's tastes when I make it. If Odasaku-san liked it, then it's just right for him. I liked just the way it was, but I wouldn't mind trying it hotter or milder. The others you talked to might just prefer spicier foods.
[His fingers flex, the muscle memory of reaching between the mild and spicy batches on the stove. Every once in a while, he'll miss Leblanc like this.]
I'm looking forward to see what you do with the hot pot, though. You did an amazing job with this.
They're just things that I picked up from the best chef that I know. But it's something I've thought about for the future.
For now, I'll be throwing everything I have at you. It shouldn't have any special stamina properties, but I'll be working hard on it so it suits your taste.
[It's not clear now... but this has a double meaning, one that Dazai will get to see soon enough for himself.
So long as Akira survives what's in store for him later today, that is.]
As soon as we can get together for it, we'll enjoy ourselves to the fullest.
Hopefully you've been settling in alright? I know it's a big change, in a lot of ways.
[It shouldn't poke at the back of his brain to live apart from her - after all, the only friends that lived near him in Tokyo were Morgana and Futaba, and only one of them shared a roof with him. But in this reality, where anything could happen...
I'll admit it's definitely an adjustment, but I was growing accustomed to the camper and sleeping close to the other girls.
[ She does miss having a bigger space, but she can manage. ]
I suppose it's like dorm living! I've heard some students at school say their dorms are quite small, but they seem to have a lot of fun with it anyway.
[ At some point during the week, Akira receives an invitation:
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. ]
[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.]
[ Later, when Maruki's had time away from this moment to process everything, he'll be able to appreciate that protective mettle in Akira's voice. For now, it washes over him numbly, everything in the cafe sounding distant to his ears and his vision tunneled down to– ]
Rumi.
[ Barely even a whisper, at first, then louder for Akira to hear. ]
That's Rumi. My... [ No, not his. The way she's looking at him, she can't be his.
That recognition in her eyes isn't the bright light it ought to be. It's fire – anger so intense it approaches loathing.
Maruki's throat is too dry to swallow. He pushes his chair back as he stands, but he still can't look away from her. ]
[He looks again, several things dawning on him at once.
He doesn't know if Rumi is alive or not. Maruki spoke about her like she wasn't. They both already know that doesn't mean anything in this world, however.
It doesn't matter. The look on her face - it isn't what Akira thought it was before. They shouldn't stay here.]
We should still go. [There's only the briefest moment of hesitation before Akira reaches out and firmly tugs on his wrist.] If there's something wrong, let's not wait to find out what. [There's a little bit of distance, between her and the exit. If they walk fast enough they might be able to make it out. Especially if Akira puts himself between them.] Come with me?
[The "please" is unspoken, but it's there nonetheless.]
[ Maruki hears it, loud and clear. As if Akira would have to plead with him– as if he has to even ask at all. Come with me may as well be a command, and it's one Maruki is all too eager to obey.
This reality has made him stronger in many ways, and weak in several more. He no longer has to deal with things alone, so he no longer wants to. It's selfish, disgustingly so, but he doesn't want to face whatever this is on his own. He wants Akira at his side, no matter how terrible it is.
He tears his eyes away from Rumi, finally. Doesn't pull his wrist away from Akira's grasp.
As they head for the exit, he says it quietly, definitively: ]
It's not her. There's nothing that she would wish for.
[ Rumi wants for nothing. He made sure of that. A regret he would repeat again and again, in every lifetime, and one that would bar her from ever being able to meet the conditions of a reality like this. ]
[Akira is too distracted to ping what it is - even if he wasn't, maybe he couldn't - but something about Maruki being so sure feels... odd. Even if he can't place it, he still speaks on it.]
Are you absolutely sure? There could be things she wanted but never talked about.
[Everyone has something they wish for, don't they?]
A Rumi-san from a time the two of you weren't together, or a Rumi-san that's- not the one you think she is, like I was.
[Even if the reminder makes him stumble over his own words, his feet are sure as they carry him forward. He's walking fast, making sure Maruki is on the side that would've been opposite from her. From the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees a shock of red rapidly moving in their direction. Relentless, it seems. They'll have to hurry.]
For a moment, Maruki's mask slips. He glances sidelong at Akira, horror scrawled openly across his features at the mere idea. For all he knows about the nature of reality, all he's experienced of so many versions of himself, and all the time he's put into thinking about the many varied realities out there, he has never once considered that there could be one where Rumi isn't who he knows her to be. If they exist in the same reality, then she is his most phenomenal love and his greatest regret; there are no other options.
Luckily, before he can respond to that terrible hypothetical, he hears enough to be sure of his answer.
It's her voice– but it's not, there's a twist to the ends of her words that was never there before. The light that used to spark brightly enough to burn when she got too heated is absent – now, when ugly, biting words spill forth, they sound black as tar. Rumi could get angry, could defiantly speak her mind, but she never sounded hateful.
Maybe Maruki deserves that. But it's not her.
He doesn't look as she approaches, that torrent of blame growing louder and louder. Ruined our life and only thinking of yourself and easy way out and impossible, stupid dream collide together between his ears as he keeps his eyes locked on Akira's. His words remain just as decisive and sharp. ]
Something similar happened to Adachi-kun the other day. I should have known better than to– [ Louder, closer still. Maruki grits his teeth, squeezes his eyes shut for a second. ] It doesn't matter. She's a cognition. You're familiar, right?
[ There's almost some desperation in that question, and when Maruki opens his eyes again, he finally turns to face her.
It hurts, more than anything, to see recognition in Rumi's eyes once more, and to see it turn to spite.
What happened at the machiya can't happen here. That drawn out argument, that slow turn to violence that escalated rapidly. He can't bear to try to drive her away with his words or to fight her for more than a minute. A quick cut might be a deep one, but at least it's not torture.
It doesn't matter that they're right out in the streets of Stellari. Maruki's long stopped caring what anyone thinks of him, native inhabitants and dreamers alike. Protecting himself and the people he cares for is what's important, and the only thing that would be worse than fighting Rumi himself would be seeing her attack Akira instead.
The aurora ripples through the sky, makes his stomach turn at its familiarity as Azathoth appears. ]
[There isn't even time for him to feel guilt for the horror that his suggestion seems to invoke - she's here, and every word she throws is a blow.
She's so- angry, and maybe that makes sense for the two of them that had some nebulous thing happen between them, but it's still a shock. This was the person that Maruki spoke of so fondly and affectionately... but she hates him?
Akira had thought she had lost her life, to disease or to accident. But maybe this was more painful for Maruki to face than her death.
There's not enough time, and she jumps from one phrase to the next, acidic and fierce. Akira tries to catch each thing and make it out, more reflexive than anything; it's part of his nature, to absorb every piece of information that's laid before him. Ruined our life - what did Maruki do? What could he have done that she resented so much? Only thinking of yourself - Akira's never seen him think of himself at all. Does he try so hard now, because of something that happened in his past? Stupid dream - is it cognitive psience? Did his research drive a wedge between them?
It doesn't make sense.
It doesn't add up.
There is no time for it to make sense, because Maruki is acting.
And Akira is too, suddenly enough - She's a cognition. You're familiar, right? - his hand is reaching out for Maruki's arm without a conscious thought.]
Don't.
[For the first time in Maruki's presence... he almost sounds angry.]
Even if she's a cognition... you love her. [Love, not loved. Akira knows he still does. He said it himself, that he thinks about her every day.] She isn't real, but you are. Is that really something your heart can bear?
this sucks this sucks please feel free to skip ahead this SUCKS
[ He hears Akira's tone approaching anger, and the only thing Maruki can think is that he's so good. So wonderfully, unfailingly good – so unwilling to let someone break their own heart if there's any chance he can fall on the sword for them.
He doesn't need any sort of special ability to be able to see into a future where Akira takes it upon himself to dispel this product of Maruki's distorted heart and manipulated cognition for him – and it's a future that's rapidly closing in. There isn't time to argue, to justify–
There isn't time. ]
My heart has had to bear worse.
[ In every life, he will love her and lose her, again
and again,
and again.
There's no other ending to their story. A tale as old as time: A woman, a man who loves her and who destroys her for it. It's an old song, but it's one that must be sung.
Maruki keeps his eyes trained on Akira. That's what Akira can do for him, here and now. Hold his gaze, don't let him look as bright lights coalesce above them to make quick work of a body without a soul.
That's one thing the doppelganger gets right, though. The scream as she falls – it's plucked right from his memories on a frigid night out in the countryside. It's almost enough to make him doubt his instincts.
Almost.
Maruki doesn't look. Doesn't need to. The people bustling around them on the street are panicked enough about another one of those creatures appearing in their midst that he knows it's the truth. A body that vaporizes, disappears into mist when the one it wanted to feast on isn't looking at it.
Azathoth falls silent again at the base of his skull, only that goddamn aurora left coloring the air around them, and Maruki's stomach lurches so violently that his vision swims.
This is–
Bad. It's bad. Home is too far, he won't make it there. And as much as he loves Akira, the safehouse in Stellari is one of the infinitesimally few things he cannot share with him. They're in the city center, not too far at all from– ]
Kurusu.
[ His voice isn't so much soft as it is broken open, a raw and bleeding thing. ]
[His hand is outstretched, but there's nothing for him to reach.
His hand is outstretched, but it's already too late.
The blue flame that had begun to stir around his legs sparks and gutters like a dying candle. The body is already gone. Vanished, right into thin air; she wasn't real, just like Maruki said.
I couldn't...
Akira can't fix every problem and every pain. He'd thought he'd known that when he started inflicting Changes of Heart - he hadn't, but he learned. He couldn't, and it was alright that he couldn't, because sometimes people have to find the right way without someone else solving their problems.
He knows that all too well, now.
And yet, his chest still aches with his own ineptitude.
I swore I would protect you, but...
...during such a great moment of pain, Akira still couldn't do anything at all.
The aurora ripples in the air, and Akira's hands curl into fists. Around them, people haven't ceased their panic, but there's none of that on Akira's face. No panic, and no fear, because he knows Azathoth will never deliver unforgiveable harm to him. There's only the sting and strain of his own powerlessness.
Whatever eats at Maruki's heart... if Akira can still find a way to carry him through this, maybe he can deliver him to someone else that can kill off whatever it is.
For now, he'll do the only thing that's left to him.
Please.]
...Alright.
[He's silent for the duration of the walk. He stays near Maruki for the entirety of it, watchful of the way he's moving and taking stock of his condition - but he never quite meets his eyes.
His own feel too heavy.
Excepting the time that Maruki first showed it to him, Akira hasn't been by that much. There's still something about climbing the steps that unwinds something tight in his shoulders, even if he doesn't relax all the way. Perhaps it's simply a place that Akira's brain associates with safety, even if the danger is only coming from within himself.]
...Sit, and I'll get some water for you.
[His voice is quiet but unreadable. It isn't Akira's office to offer such, but he's already moving deeper inside to do so.]
[ It's strange, how quickly a place can become a safe haven. It was like that with the first iteration of Eyn Sof, too – now nothing more than a pile of debris he's pointed out to Akira any time they happen to wander through the much more humble Somnius town center. For so long, that office was his only true oasis of peace and privacy. Perhaps that's why it was all the more insulting when it was bugged.
It's the same with this office. It helps that it isn't open to the public, so it's not inextricably linked with long days spent listening to the tragedies of a hundred realities he'll never be able to save – more than anything else, it's where he comes when he needs to be alone.
They're safe here. He's sure of it.
It's one of the few things he's sure of at the moment.
Maruki locks the door behind him and crosses to one of the sofas immediately, sitting just as Akira tells him to. He's being a horrible host right now, he knows, but– it doesn't matter, as Akira picks up the slack for him.
Guilt gnaws through his gut and his head swims again as he folds down to rest his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. In through the nose, two, three, four, out through the mouth, two, three, four. He's fine. They're both fine. Rumi is– ]
I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to see that, and– see me deal with it.
[ He doesn't lift his head as he speaks, eyes trained down on the ground until they squeeze shut. ]
I'm sure it seemed callous, but...
[ There's no end to that sentence. It was callous. Even though he knows from experience that arguing with a doppelganger has no effect, he still feels terrible for not at least hearing her out. She wasn't even real, and yet that knowledge does nothing to absolve him of the sins he's rapidly listing off in his own mind.
In through the nose. Out through the mouth.
Maruki nudges his glasses up into his hair, presses the heels of his palms into his eyes until neon colors begin to waver behind his eyelids. ]
You have bad habits when it comes to me, Maruki-sensei.
[A glass for Maruki, and a glass for himself. He sets them both on the table, but doesn't touch his own yet.]
You always assume that I'll think the worst of you. [Gentle. He's still quiet, but he sounds gentler than he did before.] And you always apologize for the wrong thing.
[Ruined our life, still tolls in his head like a bell, and he thinks he's starting to get a clearer picture. Or at least, a better one to guess at.
Akira waits after that. Maybe for a long time, or maybe for very little at all. But he waits until Maruki looks at him again before he continues.
It's the first time that his voice and expression crack with pain.]
Bearing worse doesn't mean you have to bear more. Why didn't you let me handle it?
[He has questions - he has many, and he will ask them. But there's none that weigh on his mind more than that.]
[ It does take a long time for him to lift his head, and when he does–
It's the sort of pain he hasn't seen or heard on Akira since those flowers and vines were doing their very best to choke them.
He winces for having been the one to cause it this time, but he'd never make a different choice. That's all the trouble, isn't it? Every time he does something to help Akira or Rumi, it hurts them just as much. ]
Kurusu...
[ A deep inhale, a slow exhale, and he straightens his back to sit upright. Looks Akira dead in the eye, tone gentle even though his resolve is unwavering. ]
I would never make you fight my battles for me, especially not when they're a product of my own cognition. [ The doppelgangers have to be. This place preys on their memories, their fears, their regrets. ] I appreciate that you would have... I really do, more than I can say. But...
[ He's at a loss for words for a moment, before he reminds himself for the hundredth time since their reunion that he will be more honest with this Akira than he was with his own. ]
You already do so much for me. I couldn't ask you to do something like that, too.
No. [It's a whisper that hangs in the air, suspended in the space between them.] I don't think I've done enough, after all.
[Akira knows he's as powerless to stop the existence of something wearing Rumi's face as he was the flowers that nearly killed them. Whatever tricks are played in this world by the powers that be, Akira doesn't have anything to he can do that will stop them entirely.
But even so...]
Fighting the product of another's condition is exactly what it's been my job to do for over a year's time. But more than that... [Akira looks at him, and feels the phantom velvet of petals between his fingers.] You and I promised to shoulder our burdens together.
[Maybe... If it hadn't been Akira that was with him, then maybe...
He breathes out, like the sigh will loose what's in his chest.]
It doesn't matter now. It's already done. [The part of him that's wounded, the part of him that's weak - Akira shutters it off, closes it away. He knows how to do this, even if he's never truly done it with Maruki. He's had plenty of practice with others.] You sound sure, but... Why do you feel certain this came from your cognition?
[ Maruki sees it, clear as day. Hears it, clear as a bell struck once in an empty room. The way he buttons himself up, shifts his own emotions to the side to be what someone else needs in the moment–
It breaks his heart, every time he looks at Akira and feels like he could be looking in a mirror.
But that question needs to be answered first. It's almost comforting to slip into, talk of applying what he knows of cognitive psience to what he knows of this reality. ]
It would be wrong to say that everything that happens to us in this reality is a byproduct of our cognitions, but some things must be. The way the Oracle can extract painful secrets we've never spoken aloud to anyone and put them on display... the wishes we make that manifest into tangible goods and powers. The time a powerful god from a dreamer's reality made his way into this one and tried to wage war on it, and now the doppelgangers taking the shape of people we once knew. [ Maruki scratches at the stubbled line of his jaw, sighs. ] The powers that be here, whatever they are, are the mechanism by which these things happen. But our cognitions are the source.
[ It would be so easy to stay in this realm – the theoretical, the practical.
But that's not why Maruki brought Akira here.
His voice shifts, goes quieter, more honest. ]
If almost anyone else had been with me when that happened... I would have made an excuse to be alone. I can count the people I'd be able to face right now on one hand.
[ And he'd have some fingers left over. ]
You being here is helping me to shoulder this, Kurusu. [ His hands resting over his knees tighten, the fabric of his pantlegs clutching between his fingers. ] You're helping me, right now, just by talking to me. Please understand that.
i would say nothing's stopping u but he wasn't here in april, so
A protest builds in his throat, piles up behind his teeth. Akira has done nothing except allow Maruki to tear a fresh wound in his own heart. What good is it, now, to stem the bleeding of the very damage that he allowed to happen in the first place?
In every sense of the meaning, Akira is the last one that should be here, right now.
But it doesn't help Maruki to fight against it and say any of that, so he doesn't.
All he can do is cast about, grasping desperately until he finds the words to help him. It's the least he can do.]
...Tell me, then.
[He glances away, finally. His eyes rest on the water, the wobbling surface finally settling its movements and becoming still. Akira will do the same.]
You didn't have to, but you chose for me to come with you. If talking helps- [-if I'm really able to help you-] -then tell me what's hurting you, so you don't have to carry it alone.
[ He doesn't need to be an expert in reading Akira to know that his words haven't had exactly the intended effect, but...
Perhaps the way to make him understand just how badly Maruki needs him here is not to tell him, but to show him.
Slowly, he leans back against the couch, hands coming to fold together in his lap. He tips his head back, eyes slipping shut, and breathes. Considers this.
Where to begin? ]
I will. I want to ask you first, though...
[ Begin in a way that he couldn't with anyone else he's told. ]
You know what it's like to change a heart. If someone you loved was suffering terribly, and there was no alternative, would you cut out any instance of pain from their heart?
[It's almost instantaneous, the way he immediately thinks of Futaba. Can see her face as clearly as if she sat in front of him.
When they entered her Palace - he didn't know her the way he does now. All he knew was the distortion that had taken root, rebellion and justice twining around his heart like vines, and the taste of his own desperation on the back of his tongue. If he had to do it now, when he knows every item on her promise list, and the feel of her hair under his palm as he pats her head - would he still Change her Heart?
But - that's not what Maruki is asking. And Akira knows what she had to go through to steal herself back.]
No. [He says it very softly.] I wouldn't.
[If it was someone he loved, he wouldn't, because-]
One of the Phantom Thieves had a Change of Heart. But that process didn't eliminate their pain. It was because they embraced the pain of their past that they were able to heal their distortion at all.
[Even though he wanted to prevent Maruki from feeling any pain... he wouldn't take away what's already there.]
Maybe it's strange, hearing that from their leader. Maybe if I had to make that choice, I would feel caught. But if it was me that was suffering, I know I wouldn't want someone else to erase the things that made me who I am today.
[ The words settle over his mind, heavy as a blanket of snow on the coldest day of the year.
It's not what he wants anymore. To rid the whole world of their pain, their suffering, by any means necessary– it's a dream this reality has crushed between its palms and rubbed in his face for how unattainable it was. Maruki may not know everything, but he knows now that even with the power of the collective unconscious at his fingertips, it wouldn't have been enough. Pain has value, and a world completely devoid of it is not a sustainable one.
Still, though–
There's a pang deep in his chest, a great yawning ache.
Akira never would have wanted the same thing he did, no matter what. They were opposed from the very start. That may not hurt the Maruki Takuto who has had nearly a year in this reality under his belt, but somewhere inside him still lives the Maruki Takuto who looked at the boy across from him in a warmly lit cafe on an autumn evening and thought, I will do this because of you. I will do this for you. I will do this to thank you.
That Maruki Takuto feels the pain now.
He lets the silence drag on for a few long moments before finally breaking it with a breath drawn that shakes more than it doesn't. Focus. ]
It's not strange. You're... [ On the exhale, he laughs– thin, almost pained, but he laughs as he inclines his head to look over at Akira. ] You're right. Good and bad, beautiful and painful, everything that happens to us shapes us into who we are. I just–
[ His clasped hands wind together, the motion anxious. It never gets easier, no matter how many times he tells this story. And it's never been more difficult than it is now, telling it to the person who intimately understands the responsibility one has when shaping a cognition, changing a heart. ]
I've seen what happens when a pain is too unbearable to live with. May I tell you about it?
[In spite of what's happened today, in spite of what Akira's shuttered away - it's clear enough to see that whatever this is, it's weighed down Maruki's shoulders. Maybe for a long time. The sound of his laugh, the twist of his hands... They all speak to an immeasurable strain.
What sort of pain must he have seen, to burden him so? To make the person that's helped Akira hold up his own so deeply wounded?
He doesn't know what he's about to hear. He's heard a lot of terrible things, and maybe it will somehow still be worse. There's something, after all, that ignited Maruki's need to rebel.
But there will never be a world where he answers that question with a "no". Not about this, nor anything else.]
Please. Whatever it is, no matter how painful... I'd still like to know.
[ Any familiarity with retreading this conversation with Akira all over again is offset by just how many ways things are so very different now. A new office, where they sit side by side as equals, allies, true friends rather than across from one another as counselor and student. He isn't pasting more half-truths over a previously told falsehood this time; his only lies have been by omission, and the story he tells now will be nothing but the honest truth.
Even if Akira hates him for it. ]
Rumi's family lived far out in the countryside. We were visiting them for her birthday, and so we could announce our engagement... I was so anxious about it, and she was as carefree as ever. That was one of her best qualities. She never got lost in her own head like I do.
[ His thumb rubs over the ridge of his knuckles, bump-bump-bump-bump, back and forth, not as soothing as it usually is. Maruki clears his throat, presses on. ]
While we were there, someone broke into their home. It was just... one of those completely random things. There was no reason to target them, no reason for any of it. But the robbery attempt went south, and... [ He shakes his head, messy fringe flopping across his glasses as his eyes stay trained on the floor. ] We saw what happened to them. The burglar attacked Rumi on his way out as well, and we were lucky her physical injuries weren't more severe, but...
[ His shoulders ache from how he's slowly hunched over through the story, and his spine cracks as he forces himself to sit up straight before leaning back against the couch and looking over at Akira.
One year and a whole reality ago, he guarded his expression, excised his own pain that he'd so deftly ignored and run from for so long. Here and now, though, there's no hiding the sorrow in his eyes. ]
She never recovered from that. What would you do if the person you love became a shell of themselves, Kurusu? What would you do if their mind trapped them in the worst day of their life?
Edited (SORRY I CHANGED MY MIND) 2025-05-30 07:34 (UTC)
[All at once, pieces snap painfully into place. A mosaic that tells a story, a picture that's all too beautiful before it's twisted into a tragedy.
It's a story that would move him into action, under normal circumstances. An injustice like that can't go unpunished. It's no wonder Maruki experienced an Awakening. But even if Akira did something, moved, acted - he's powerless to undo the pain that's already been caused. For all of the work that he had done to help Ohya, he was still powerless to undo the damage that had already been done to Murakami Kayo. His hands can't undo a mental shutdown, just as much as they're incapable of undoing the worst sort of trauma.
His entire stomach lurches as he thinks about it. Haru or Chihaya. Akechi or Maruki. Any of the people he holds in his heart, imprisoned in the confines of their own mind. What would Akira do, other than shatter apart entirely?]
...For all of the power I've been given, there are some things I can't undo. [His eyes squeeze shut.] Wounds that are too deep for me to ever heal. I'd stay at their side, even if I knew it would never be enough. But at the same time... just as I've been powerless to heal those types of pain, I've been given chances to change everything.
[ This is a place where hope shines through the bars of the cage.
[ For that time when Akira speaks with his eyes shut tight, Maruki watches him closer than ever before. There's such a profound weigh of understanding to his words, empathy that can only come from someone else who knows what it's like to hold the fragile, wonderful cognition of someone in their hands.
That's the thing, though–
Akira's eyes open, train on his again, and Maruki nods. ]
It was, but... I didn't grasp the full scope of what I was doing.
[ Something that still stings in a particular way to admit, even now. If he'd known the cost, would he still have done it?
Maruki can't imagine any reality where the answer to that is no.
He inhales, deep, and tries to reason. ]
You have to understand... I was already deep into my research on cognitive psience. I had the hypothesis that it was possible to directly interact with a person's cognition, but I had no proof of that. No way of figuring out how.
[ An old, familiar pain radiates at the base of his skull, stretches up into his temples, down to wrap around his jaw. ]
I'd been getting terrible migraines all throughout my research. They came on again as Rumi was suffering in that hospital room, and when she told me she wanted to forget...
[ He trails off, throat constricting. He has to look away from Akira for a moment, gather himself up before tying the rotten bow on this story. ]
I heard Azathoth's voice in my head for the first time. [ I shall echo your blasphemous fury with reality so that we may change the world. ] I begged it to help me heal Rumi, and– it did. [ A beat. ] I did. [ Azathoth is strong because you are strong. Azathoth can rewrite a person's mind because Maruki can. ] She forgot anything terrible ever happened to her parents. She was free.
[ The smile he offers up to Akira is water thin, eyes a bit too telltale bright behind thick lenses. ]
Unfortunately... she also forgot me. Our life together. I lost her, just like that. [ Is he still smiling? Everything's gone numb. He can't feel his face, can't tell. The hands in his lap have unwound, clenched into tight fists in the fabric of his pants, and Maruki's not aware at all. ] She's not dead. I know I speak about her as if she is, but she's not. She's happy now. That's what matters. Isn't it?
[ It's a genuine question, plaintive and searching. Isn't it? ]
The guilt. The certainty about destroying Rumi's copy. The way he could only speak of this to Akira.
It should be a terrible thing to find out. Maybe it is. Maybe that's why his gut twists so terribly as he stares at Maruki's face, but if he were to really weigh it in his hands...
The sorrow on Maruki's face is deep and unending, no matter how much he's smiled through every terrible word he said. It's harder for Akira to look at than for him to hear the things that would horrify his friends.
"If I agree to this, the ruined city will return to normal."
But there's one thing that's never really changed about Akira, no matter who he's around or who he's spoken to.
"However, the people will remain trapped, abandoning their ability to think for themselves..."
Humans are capable of terrible, terrible things. The most wretched acts and most irredeemable crimes. That has never influenced who he spends time with, who he will make himself useful to so he may utilize them in turn. Nor has it ever changed the types of people who genuinely worked their way into his heart and all of the things they've done.
Akira knows that every inch of Akechi's hands are drenched in blood and he knows he will never try to wash it off, just as much as he knows that he'll tear himself apart if that's what it takes to save his life.
"Is that really how the world should be?"
Because Akira has always known that he isn't a good person. He's only met people that made him want to be a better one, and who he's made better choices for the sake of.]
...So that's what it was. Why you were sure about her. And why your pain was so vast.
[It's not a far distance from Maruki at all, only a few steps. Akira crosses it.]
I can't be the one to tell you if her happiness is the only thing that matters. If what you did was right or wrong. I won't absolve you of it, the same way I won't condemn you for it. But...
[Akira stops beside where he sits, and looks down.
Before him is Maruki Takuto, suffocating under the weight of his own sins.
Before him is Maruki Takuto, who leaves snacks out on the table for when he gets home from his late shift at Club Quartz, somehow always his favorite. Before him is Maruki Takuto, the only one Akira will allow in the kitchen beside him, flowing from one spot to another without either of them ever disrupting their work. Before him is Maruki Takuto, who lights up with the enthusiasm of a child when he speaks of the difference between physics in the natural world and the Metaverse.
The person who Akira cares about, who he's willing to die to save, has killed more than Akira has dared to ask.
The person who Akira cares about, who fate denied him the chance to meet, wiped clean the mind of the woman he loves.
A person who Akira cares about is in incalculable pain.
His hand reaches out
and gently rests on the shoulder before him.]
When I was first placed under arrest, I felt cornered in an impossible situation. I felt trapped. I felt betrayed. People I've known since I was a small child looked at me with fear and disdain. If I'd had to stay there, in that place that used to be my home... my will itself would've been crushed. It would've eroded away me. No matter how else any of it made me feel... going to Tokyo was an escape from all of that.
[He's never told anyone this. Maybe will never tell anyone this again.]
I think that, in some situations... an escape is your only way out of it. There's a difference between running away and finding escape from the situation that's entrapped you. I can't say whether or not it was the same for Rumi-san. But I think she was also being crushed under an impossible weight. Maybe what you did was right, and maybe what you did was wrong - but it doesn't change that you freed her from it.
[Maybe, even if Akira can't free him from that pain... maybe something in his words can ease it.]
Since she's forgotten you, have you spoken to her?
[ While Akira speaks, all Maruki can do is stare up at him, completely arrested.
The hand on his shoulder is the anchoring weight that tells him this this hasn't all been some sort of dream. Because what else could it be, when he's finally admitted the worst truth of all to Akira and received not only acceptance and understanding, but a peek into the depths of his own heart as well?
It would've eroded away me, and all at once, Maruki has so many questions that may never be answered. Akira speaks so little about himself, and somehow even less about the circumstances that he came from. He's always thought that the beginning of his time in Tokyo must have been so painful, so isolating, and maybe it was, but–
It was an escape. A necessary one, to keep from slipping away from this world, to become the person he was meant to be.
Had Akira not escaped, they never would have met. That goes for the Akira in his own reality, and the one who stands before him now.
And–
for the first time in his life–
Maruki wonders if he hasn't been crushed under an impossible weight for all these years too.
Just like that, with nothing more than his own story relayed and a comforting grip on one shoulder, Akira shifts something that's been stubbornly stuck inside his heart. Some twist of the knotted, gnarled distortion that still lives in there begins to unwind. If his own pain is real, if it goes beyond the all-consuming grief of losing Rumi, if he's been drowning himself in this guilt and loneliness–
Who will set him free?
No one can do that but Maruki and the person standing before him.
Somewhere above them, stretching so high into the sky that it reaches another time in another reality entirely, there is– was– will be a staircase, and a battle, and a hand wrapped around his wrist.
Here and now, Akira's palm is warm over the tense, tired muscle of his shoulder, and Maruki finds himself reaching up to cover it with his own hand. ]
No.
[ There's so much more he needs to say, to all of that, but first– ]
No, I haven't. I can't. I haven't even seen her. Today was the first day I've ever– but it wasn't her, of course.
[Akira nods, agreeing, as if Maruki needs to hear it, or maybe he simply needs to say it for himself.]
If it was me... If it was your Akira, too- I think in any reality, I would tell you it's better not to do what I'm about to say. But right or wrong, forgiven or condemned... There's only one person in any world who can give you the answer you're looking for, and it isn't me. [His voice is even gentler now. Maybe gentler than it's ever been, around Maruki.] Maybe you know that. Maybe you don't. But only Rumi-san can tell you if her happiness is what matters.
[Underneath Maruki's hand, Akira's squeezes at his shoulder.]
But I'm not saying that's an answer you have to seek out, now or ever. [He smiles then, and it's a crooked thing.] Someone would probably condemn me, for saying that to you.
[Maruki didn't do a good thing, regardless of whether or not it was necessary. It's simply that something like that has never gotten in the way of Akira caring for someone.]
I can't tell you to go to her or stay away for the rest of your life. I can't tell you how to choose to move on, either. [His other hand comes up, resting upon where Maruki holds his own.] All I can do is stand by your side, as your friend and your ally. All we can do is fight alongside each other, in this world and our own, and protect each other so neither of us ever feels desperate enough to make a choice like that ever again.
[He can't change what Maruki's done. Akira can't change what he's done himself, either.
But they can still do everything thing they can, to guard against doing anything they'd regret.]
[ It's the same story told through a different lens–
All we can do is fight alongside each other, in this world and our own, and protect each other so neither of us ever feels desperate enough to make a choice like that ever again.
I know how dangerous this is. How dangerous I am. I can't change what I've done, and I never would. I can only change what I do going forward.
–and for the first time, Maruki dares to believe that the story will go on.
It's so easy for him to develop tunnel vision. Too easy, really. It happened with his studies, with cognitive psience, with his research, with the prospect of healing all pains – and lately, it's been happening with what awaits him after his time in this reality is finally through.
But for all the possibilities he's conjured up, all the contingencies he's planned for–
Maruki's never considered what his future holds.
Whether they're able to change Akechi's fate or not, whether he's able to change his own fate or not– life still goes on after, and not once has he spared a single second for what he might want to do with his life. He pictures it now, as Akira talks about moving on, and it's so foreign, so jarring – a great, vast expanse of blank white space and the daunting task of holding the pen to begin filling it.
Where would he begin?
How would he even start to move on?
Akira can't tell him how, but he doesn't have to. The first day they met, he told him the only thing Maruki has ever needed to know:
If I won in a world without you in it, I'll never lose in one that has you.
No matter how he chooses to do it, he will move on. No matter how impossible it seems with his heart still so mired in that tangled, distorted sorrow, he will move on. He will, because he has Akira at his side – in this reality, in the true reality, in so many others.
He will.
Maruki has felt the bone-deep catharsis of being able to share this pain and feel even a sliver of his grief several times over in this world. He's phenomenally lucky to have met a few people who he trusts with the very depths of his soul, and they've all given him more acceptance and comfort than he ever could have dreamed of–
But Akira's presence, here and now, heralds the first time Maruki has ever shared his terrible story and felt a swell of hope.
Their hands are stacked, one of his sandwiched between both of Akira's. It's silly, but he reaches up with the one free hand remaining and adds it to the pile, and the smile that blooms across his face is warm even as it wavers. ]
You truly are my guiding light.
[ Maruki stands, then, dislodging his hands so he can instead press them onto Akira's shoulders instead. For a moment, he only holds him at arm's length there, overwhelmed with such profound gratitude that he doesn't know what else to say.
A deep, trembling inhale, and– ]
I feel like I never know how to thank you. And I know you'll tell me it's not necessary, and you'll mean it when you do– but there has to be something, Kurusu. There has to be some way I can show you even... even just a bit of the light you've shown me.
[ His hands squeeze, desperate to pull him in for a hug, but staying still for now. That's only happened while they were in the throes of the flower illness; this isn't nearly so dire, no matter how close Maruki felt to death as he stared that doppelganger down. ]
[It's an immediate tangle of feelings, prickling through his veins and catching in his throat. There are no more petals and roots in his body any longer, but it feels, just for a moment, like there could be.
You truly ae my guiding light.
When Akira talks to Maruki, he doesn't think he sees the other him. Not anymore, at least. He sees him, except for the places where he inevitably can't; Akira doesn't hold that against him, because he knows that whatever circumstances are at work, he and Maruki's Akira must mostly be the same person. He knows Maruki sees him, and it doesn't eat away at him the way it used to.
And even so, Akira hears those words and feels like he's stolen away something important and precious.
Once more, he closes his eyes.
When you see him again, he thinks at a person he will never, ever meet, never take him for granted.
He reopens them almost as fast, blinking away the ties over his heart. If nothing else... this, at least, has an easy answer.]
You already know that way, though.
[Voice soft, but stronger than before. Surer.]
Stay with me. [His eyes flicker bright with a promise already made.] Help me save him. Help me save you. And at the end of it all...
[When he smiles this time, it's a wistful thing. Spoken words united with careful, neat writing on a small card.]
Remember me. As much as you can, even if whatever power rules this world tries to take it away... Even if your mind forgets, I'll forgive you. But remember me in your soul. Remember me, whenever you see Kurusu Akira.
He's already made this promise. He's already sworn this down to his bones, branded it onto his heart. He'll do it again and again, as many times as it takes to remind both Akira and himself that this is not the first time they've met, nor is it the last, and in every life, in every reality, their souls will remember what their minds might not.
Is it really that easy to show Akira the gratitude that threatens to consume him whole? Could it be true that all he has to do to repay Akira is the only thing he wants to do at all – stay.
There has to be more, Maruki thinks, that can't possibly be it, but–
The same words were on the tip of his tongue before Akira spoke. Please. Stay in the office. Stay here with me until I can face the rest of the world, and then stay by my side as I do.
Perhaps it really is the greatest thing they can do for one another.
Maruki's smile is water-thin, tight, wavering as he bows his head, eyes squeezing shut against the heat that keeps threatening to rise up. He nods, a soft exhale of a laugh escaping, then picks himself back up so he can look Akira in the eye. Like a flower bending toward any ray of sunlight to be found in the dead of winter, always, always. ]
Of course. Of course I will, Kurusu. Staying, remembering... you might as well be asking me to breathe.
[ That smile gains strength, as does his grip over Akira's shoulders, one final squeeze before he forces himself to drop his hands. They feel too empty hanging at his sides, but– ]
You forgot one thing, though.
[ Help me save him. Help me save you. ]
I'll save you, too.
[ Even if it doesn't involve rewiring reality to Akira's exact specifications, even if he doesn't know how yet, even if it takes every day of the rest of his life in this world to figure it out, even if Akira tries to fight it, or doesn't want to help him with it, or thinks he isn't worth it– ]
We'll save each other. I've never been more certain.
dear God i hope this is the wrap or u wrap after this or it'll kill me
Akira is the boy who stretched out a hand to someone in need and had it returned with words that sentenced him away. Kurusu Akira is the high school student on probation, the one who scares everyone away in the library, who makes himself useful to all, but especially to those who might be of use to him too. Joker is the leader of the Phantom Thieves, the one who strikes down owners of distorted hearts who abuse their power over those who are weaker.
He always stretches out his hand.
Over
and over
and over
and over again.
Time and time again, he has saved who he can. He has done everything to be strong, the one who can hold everyone up. But in reality
wasn't he simply waiting for
an adult that would finally save him, too?
You truly are my guiding light-
-and it's what Akira has stolen away from its rightful owner.
Akira has healed so much. He's grown so much, compared to the boy who saved people but hesitated to form connections of his own, after everything that happened to him. These are things he's rehashed and sorted and found the path to walk on, time and time again. They're things that he always thinks he's gotten over, before he figures out there's another step to learn.
But this time... it feels like something far deeper is being mended.]
You already have.
[It's soft, half to himself. Wondering and a little awed. As close as he is to Maruki, it's impossible not to be heard.
But then - louder, firmer, with shoulders that finally relax all the way:]
You have. You are. [Akira smiles, and it feels like the smile he's let himself wear around Maruki when they're in the place that's been made into a home.] And we will.
[He is a Phantom Thief, through and through. As it turns out, stealing a light isn't impossible for him after all.
And when the time comes for him to pass this bond on to who it belongs to... Akira trusts that Joker will steal back what's rightfully his.]
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.
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 seems to him that somebody had cracked open his ribcage and removed the organs protected by it; removed them, replaced them, sewn him back up before he ever knew it happened. They gave him electric shock, fried his memories and all that went with them, changing him.
This has happened before. It's of no consequence, and this too will pass, but all of that does little for him now. Dazai feels as he feels, and he feels nothing at all. There's a hole that's left behind, a void that was filled by an undefinable something - something old, and patient, mean, and above all else insatiable. Inhuman.
But he doesn't notice any of that, having always lived in this way.
He shakes his head. ]
No, nothing... Well, plenty has, but it's nothing I need to tell you of.
[ Doppelgangers and changelings and all that. And he's removed himself from all that because - ]
Considering I haven't asked you to help with groceries in nearly a year, I think you're overdue. Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule, Akechi-kun.
Frog legs? I can't say I've ever cooked those before...
[The buzzing phone is a not so pleasant distraction from his soup mission. Oh, this is stupid. A part of him is tempted to say get it and avoid their shared dinner for the next few days. They can suffer with the frog leg stew.]
I found something similar. It's the body part of some kind of animal.
We need to adjust our expectations for this world. I suggest we look for instant meals instead of soup ingredients. Surely they've figured out how to make instant noodles somewhere.
[Maybe he'll buy this weird shit anyway, actually.]
Wouldn't the illustrious leader of the Phantom Thieves be better suited for infiltration training? I'll leave that to you - should you find it necessary to show him, that is.
Maruki - barter with your extensive funds. Shards talk, so speak with them.
Obviously I would, but you're the one that was supposed to be his senpai, last I heard. I figured that would simply be something you naturally covered. My mistake.
[Tones that can be heard through text.]
Maruki-sensei, if there's anything you're unsure of, feel free to ask me.
[ Unfortunately Maruki doesn't see any of this because all he sends is a blurry photo of the forbidden soup aisle he argued his way into. Blurry because he's still arguing with Dan the gelfling, actually. He sends it without looking at the conversation in process, wholly focused on fighting his way to soup victory. ]
[Alright, well. That can't be good. That's been a while now, with nothing but a blurry picture of... soup? That has to be soup. Also not good, probably.]
Are you okay?
Did you eat any frog legs?
[?????????? there are no frog legs in the PICTURE]
Akechi, you should've told me you didn't train him sooner. He could get ambushed, you know.
[ 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?
[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.
[ That contradiction makes much more sense than it would have before April. Difficult as it was, it was still the escape necessary to carry on. Some pains are meant to be endured, Maruki knows that now... ]
Did you ever talk to anyone about how hard it was?
[ Or is that another thing Akira suffered in silence? ]
I think Morgana picked up on it, just because we spent so much time together. Maybe that's why he watched over me as closely as he did. But I've told you more about it now than I did anyone back then.
[It doesn't really bother him anymore. Didn't really bother him as much as it could've when it was happening, either. Eventually, he found a home for himself, pressed between those bustling streets... so it doesn't really matter if it was hard at first, does it?]
[To hear that his other self also never spoke of it to Maruki is a surprise, and yet-
Maybe not so much of one. There's a lot that other Kurusu Akira hasn't said, even though he has here, it seems. Maybe because they're allies in this reality, something far beyond the level he shared with his Confidants in Tokyo. Maybe because Akira has seen what lies beyond Christmas Eve, while that Kurusu Akira hasn't.
Or for a reason that's a lot more simple. After all, he's thinking of a way to say as little as possible right now, isn't he?]
It doesn't feel like home anymore.
If I called it isolating, that would be ironic, wouldn't it?
[Relationships didn't feel meaningful and lasting until Tokyo. There were peers in class that he considered friends, he supposes, but nothing that survived his probation.
His eyes were too "scary" for anyone to want to stick around, probably.]
It's quieter than the city. It's pretty. Easier to sleep, and you can see real stars. But I wished I was still in Tokyo as soon as I got back.
It hums in his chest, a warm comfort. No, Maruki doesn't really need to say it at this point, but- it's a reminder. It's a reassurance.
He won in a world with him. He won in a world without him. When the time comes, he'll make it back to the place that has become his home, because of who's believing in him. No matter how far apart they may be.]
We'll see how selfish it is, but always. What is it?
When we do return to our realities, and when you do make it back to Tokyo, because you will...
Whether you remember me or not, just keep an eye out.
I have a difficult time believing there can truly be a reality in which we never meet. Just because it didn't happen during your year at Shujin doesn't mean it won't ever happen.
In a city that huge with so many people, it's easy to be another anonymous face, so perhaps it's wishful thinking to imagine, but...
If there's anyone who can see me, I think it's you.
[An old, old fear nestled deep in his chest pricks his heart immediately.
Akira never met Maruki in his reality. Now, almost a year out from what Maruki knows, he recognizes that the Conspiracy is even bigger than he'd ever thought.
How hard would it be, really, to suppress someone digging too far into cognitive psience?
And yet, Akira must still bury that fear even deeper. He can't kill it off, no matter how much he's tried, but he must bury it even further. Because too much of him wants to believe. In himself, in Maruki, in the bond that they've formed together here in this world... He can no longer imagine any reality where they weren't meant to meet. So even if Akira is afraid...]
I should be saying that to you, you know. The day that I met you, that the other me met you... I'm sure the way you saw him shocked him as much as it did me when I realized how easily you can see past the masks I put up.
But I will. There are so many people in Tokyo, and yet I somehow landed in the one place that would bring me close to the people I would grow to love. No matter how low the odds may seem, an improbability doesn't mean it's impossible.
I'll find you. Even if I don't remember. Even if takes a long time. Wherever you may be, I'll find you. I swear it.
[I'll find you again. No matter what.
Even if the only thing left for me is to weep over your grave, without even knowing why... I'll find you.]
okay you demon let's WRAP THIS ONE ON UP. dear god
[ Akira doesn't have to say it. Maruki's certainly thought about it enough on his own. Ever since the day Akechi asked him about Isshiki as they sat in Quartz together, he's known the sword hangs closer over his neck than he ever realized. And there are only so many explanations for why Akira would go through all the events of that terrible year without him around...
Perhaps he is dead. Would there even be a grave to find? It's not as if he had anyone around to handle affairs like that.
He has to believe, hope against all hope that there exists a Maruki Takuto out there in Tokyo, going about a much more normal life. Perhaps he even still has Rumi. There's no telling. ]
I ask for an inch, and you promise a mile. You really are the most incredible young man.
I decided to volunteer for jury duty in Stellari. I thought it would be a great way to understand the judicial processes here, though it turns out we have be to sequestered into a room with another person. ... Akechi-kun is my roommate.
He feels worry thread its way through his chest. Whether it's for Haru, or Akechi, or both of them... Akira can't really say. His fingers lock, frozen with the words that his chest aches to type. Do you want me to come stay somewhere nearby, or Would you like me to talk to him, tug him in each of their directions. But there's still a feeling that's stronger than anything else, presiding over all.]
I didn't realize. I can see why it would by hard to sleep.
[I trust you, Haru.
He trusts her, and she will be alright, and that's why Akira can do what he's always done.]
If you want to talk about him, I'm here to listen.
[He is meant to guide, to stand as a pillar.
He does not need to interfere, because Okumura Haru has always been strong enough to save herself.]
[ It's in the way her heart skips a beat as she reads Akira's response that makes her do a double-take.
She looks over at Akechi, who's busy on his phone, and maybe stares at him a little longer than she intends to. He might sense it, but she rips her gaze away from him to look back down at the words on her screen, face flushed in the dark. ]
He doesn't sleep much, does he? Even now, he's still on his phone. I kind of wonder what keeps him up so late.
[ But it keeps her up. She's not used to being a night owl and the sticky, wet heat of the hotel suite doesn't help. ]
It's... somewhat uncomfortable. Sharing a room with him. We already do not see eye-to-eye on the trial.
[ 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?
[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.]
A long time since Akechi had a good day. Not for lack of effort from himself. Not even due to others. It's an improbable, impossible sensation that was thrown out with a noose. He's chased it ever since and always -
Always -
It's his own mind, his own thoughts, his own desires that fuel an anger in his gut when something feels good for too long. Akechi Goro poisons. He doesn't particularly care.
It's inevitable. He welcomes the way it creeps into his mind in the dead of night, but right now-
It feels like a good day when his body is forced to relax in a bath full of liquid lava. Stays good, somehow, even when a hand brushes hair against his damp face.
He's in a good mood is all. Akechi should say something - would, probably, with anyone else. Make a remark about personal space, but -
His mouth stays shut, eyes on Akira as always. It's been far too long since they were last together like this. Well before a planned murder fully formed, though Akechi can't help to see red when sweat drip, drip, drips from Akira's chin, right into the water.
I see you're feeling bold dies on his lips. Good will go away on its own anyway. ]
It's fascinating to consider. If I suddenly believe I'm eighteen again, will I gradually go back to how I looked then? Fourteen? Ten? We should be grateful it doesn't seem to be that simple.
[ And it's quiet. Calm. Drops from a leaky faucet plop into the water. There's no grand gesture to make or confessions about a past Akechi never wanted to spill.
It's only them, laid out and bare. ]
It's not as if you haven't changed either.
[ In this world, in his last one. Kurusu Akira from the future is the same and yet - ]
That's what it means to be alive, I suppose. It's inevitable. Even this place can't stop such a thing.
[ 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.
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?
[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.]
Just little things here and there. A few things from home I'd missed...
[ Maruki spent those weeks with tattoos rapidly appearing over every inch of visible skin and then some. The one at his nape is the only one he'll never account for, and he doesn't now, either. ]
I was granting more wishes than I was making. I can't imagine that surprises you.
[ He pauses their walk down the beach, turns to look out over the water, up at the stars. His eyes scan for Vega and Altair even though he knows they aren't there. ]
You really wouldn't change anything about today? Nothing at all?
the balancing board of "this isn't a direct quote Buuuuuuuuuut-"
[It does sound exactly like what Maruki do, and there's a fondness on his face... but it makes his smile a little rueful, too.
I think it would be nice if you had just as many wishes for yourself.
Part of him almost says it. But he doesn't.]]
Maybe it sounds simple, but happy days like today... When I got to experience them back in Tokyo with my friends, those were some of the happiest days I've ever had.
[It's something endlessly precious. It's one of the things that made it so hard to go home, and there's nothing in the world that Akira would trade it for. And that's why now, today...]
Having a day like that with you, too... It's really everything I could want. [A soft laugh slips out of him.] Except for it to be longer, or to have more days like this, maybe.
[There's one thing, perhaps. Maybe even a few, and bigger. But those words rest on the best approximation of tanzaku he could make by his own hand, tucked away in the drawers in his room.]
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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. ]
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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.]
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[ His relief at seeing Akira again is so palpable, so powerful, that ice-cold dread doesn't begin to trickle down the back of his neck just yet. It gathers at the base of his skull, drip by drip, slow enough that his words come out genuinely confused, in between surprised laughs. ]
It's only been a few months. Honestly... I hope I don't look that much worse these days!
[ He crosses closer, stepping carefully through the flowers just in case they're doing something strange, as they're wont to do. Still grinning, eyebrows raised, hands tucking into the pockets of his jacket. He's never without that one piece of home for long.
He remembers exactly how disorienting, frightening and frustrating it had been to appear here with little fanfare. If Akira had met him on that day, he would have assumed they were simply in a dream. His voice is calm, reassuring; he can help to gentle Akira into this. Maruki owes him that much. ]
I know it seems impossible, but it's real. We're both here.
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There's something soothing about listening to that tone, but he's too on edge to relax into it. Not with someone he doesn't know, but who certainly seems to know him.
Could it be cognition...? Could it even do something like this? It might explain the unusual plant life, if it's something that's never been seen before. Between all of his time in Palaces, in Mementos, even in Jails... Akira has never seen anything like this.
He wishes Morgana were here. Even if he didn't know what was happening, together they might be able to figure it out... Why is he gone now, of all times?
But he is, so Akira must figure it out alone. He has to think. It could be a Palace or a Jail, or a new thing entirely since there should be no more of either of those. Something unprecedented would need to be happening, or else there would be no explanation for why this man knows him... Unless- no. No, there's one other option.
When he was in prison for nearly two months... And right after he was released, in that gap of time between Valentine's Day and White Day... His sense of time was skewed, everything seeming to blend together in his mind like muddied paint except for the bursts of color that his friends brought to the canvas.
But to forget someone that seems to care about him... Someone that can say his name with such fondness...]
...You definitely know who I am, then.
[Is Akira truly capable of forgetting something that important?
If he did, what else he could have possibly forgotten?]
Did we meet at the end of winter, by any chance?
[Stay calm. Stay polite. He has to do these things, until he can figure out what this means.]
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Winter...?
[ The drips collect and spill over. The back of his neck goes frigid, as if winter's settling into his own bones, suddenly. It shivers down his spine, makes him stand up straight.
Maruki's brows draw down, sharp. ]
No. I just saw you before I left in November. We were at Shujin together during your second year.
[ It all escapes quickly, panic rising up the back of his throat like bile with every word.
He's staring, intensely. He knows he is. But he can't stop himself, can't temper the desperation flaring to life in a fearful corner of his heart that grief closed off long ago. Maruki searches his face for any clue this might be a joke, even the most subtle quirk of one corner of his mouth–
But he only finds those eyes. Bright and honest as ever, but devoid of recognition. Searching in return, in a way Maruki knows too well. ]
I...
[ Who... Who are you? ]
Kurusu, it's me.
[ Um... I'm really sorry, but I don't know who you are. ]
Doctor Maruki. Don't you remember me?
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And yet.
His stomach still twists as if he's done a terrible thing.]
No. I... [Kurusu. No honorific. It lodges in his throat, a painful weight. He doesn't know what he expected, but this is...] You're sure that you met me at Shujin Academy.
[It's not even really phrased like a question... not when there's that kind of expression on his face, like his entire world is shattering.
He wouldn't forget something like this. Something is so terribly, terribly wrong.]
Are you a teacher there?
[His eyes search frantically, seeking an answer. His own hurt, his own confusion - both of those are swept up in the moment, tucked away for later, because someone is in terrible pain before his eyes. Pain that- he caused-?]
When did we meet? What month was it?
[Please... don't look at me this way...
It nearly cuts worse than the students afraid of him in the hallways.]
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How can he help Akira acclimate to this reality when he still has to tell him about the last one?
Foolishly, he thought the worst of his grief was over. That by finally telling the honest truth, being allowed to feel the depth of that pain in someone's arms, he'd managed to wade through his lowest point and come out alive.
But retelling it has nothing on reliving it. Some hitherto unknown wound in the depths of his soul spreads, the rot violent and festering. Maruki knows he must look like a man whose heart has shattered. It isn't fair to put that on Akira.
It isn't.
He tries to school it off his face. Breathes. He can fix this. He can fix anything. ]
No, I was a counselor. Temporarily, just for a few months... We met on my first day there. In mid-May.
[ It's said with significance. Maruki won't bring up Kamoshida. Akira ought to know. If he doesn't even know that, then they have a far larger problem. ]
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At least until he tries to look okay. Akira knows what to do with that even less, because it's alarming in a lot more personal of a way.]
All the way back in May...
[That would have to be... In what Akira's forgotten? Or what... Maruki thinks happened? Whatever's happening, it would have to be after Kamoshida. After Suzui-
It's a bitter irony, though there isn't even a sardonic laugh in his gut. Aside from Kawakami, who at Shujin would care enough about its students to do that much for them?
If a counselor had been there... it wouldn't change the worst thing that happened at the school, but how much could've been different?
He might as well be honest, though, at least in this one way. Whatever's happening, they're in this together right now.]
There was an incident the month before, in April... No counselors were ever called in for any of us. [Suzui may have received some sort of care, but...] But you remember it distinctly. In your eyes, I should know who you are.
[For his entire stay at the school, it sounds like. It's crazy, but he's seen far too much that's crazy to ever dismiss it.]
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That's why I was hired. Candidly, I think it had more to do with the school attempting to clean up its image than anything else, but...
[ A shrug of one shoulder, a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. ]
If nothing else, it meant that I got to meet you. We spent a lot of time together.
[ He hesitates, briefly, and his voice softens further. Back to reassuring, to placating. ]
It's okay if you don't remember yet. Maybe it'll come in time. Can I ask what the last thing from our reality that you do remember is?
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He doesn't seem completely in line with the school, either, even if he was hired by them. Unknowingly, something loosens in Akira's shoulders.
We spent a lot of time together. He relaxes, even if that feels like a blow. There has to be a mistake somewhere. Akira would never forget something like this.]
I was... on the train heading home from Tokyo, at the end of summer vacation. [He still has to be careful. Even if he almost speaks like a Confidant... He doesn't know what Maruki knows. Wherever he is, and whatever else is going on, Akira can't jeopardize the identities of the Phantom Thieves.] I don't know if you know, but... I was on probation during that school year. At the end of it, I went home. But I came back to visit some friends during summer break.
[It should be safe enough. He should still be able to gauge what Maruki knows like this.]
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Summer break. He made it past Christmas Eve, finished out the year at Shujin, went home, and returned. It's only another half a year or so, but he's still so much farther ahead than–
Maruki's brain stutters to a stop. So much farther ahead than either of them. Akechi. He has to play this as carefully as he can, knowing full well it will still end gracelessly. They hadn't been able to hold even one conversation about him.
All in due time. He focuses on Akira, curious. ]
I knew about your probation. I never saw you move back home, though... That hasn't happened yet, for me.
[ A sick twist in his gut. People from different points in a timeline are a dime a dozen. People from different timelines entirely aren't uncommon either – he'd just spoken to Kazuya and Naoya about their disparate memories of one another. If that's what's happening here–
If a version of their reality exists where he and Akira simply never met–
How?
How could Maruki ever make it through that chaotic, life-changing year without him?
Maybe the year wasn't like that for Akira. Maybe, somewhere out there, Kurusu Akira led a peaceful temporary life in Tokyo. ]
I... I think that we should clear the air on something up front, Kurusu-kun. Otherwise we may talk in circles.
[ A beat, heavy and serious. ]
From what you remember, you're still the leader of the Phantom Thieves, aren't you?
[ Say no. If Akira has to forget him, let it be because he lived in a kinder world. ]
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That's worse than an illusion born of cognition.
That's even worse than an inexplicable gap in Akira's memory, an entire person slipping through his fingers like sand.
It defies what he knows. Akira tries to process it, and then for a moment - he cannot process anything at all.
Where did he go wrong?
Did he fail them?
It would be different, if it was like Hifumi, Takemi, Ohya. A natural progression that he still tried to prevent, but could take a sort of comfort in. The indirect knowledge of who he was, not confirmed, but that he felt the gentle wave of their support.
But this...
Akira does not remember a Maruki. But a Maruki knows him.
And he knows, directly, that which Akira should never give away.
His jaw clenches before he can stop it. An awful slip, but he smooths it from his face as swiftly as he can.]
Who told you that?
[His voice is still distant, a place between the suggestion that he could be one of them or the suggestion that he's been informed incorrectly.
Good. He can maintain this, at the least.
The "for me" isn't forgotten. It's still there, beating at his ribcage, but it has to wait. He needs to know if there's danger.]
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Jaw tensed, distrustful. Of course he is. He has every right to be.
He doesn't know Maruki. ]
You did.
[ A last gasp of hope– ]
We spoke about it on my last day at the school. We did.
[ –that ends in defeat.
Maruki blinks. Akira is still there. Not a vision come to torment him, comeuppance for half a year of fighting tooth and nail against this reality. As real as can be, and not the one Maruki knows. Not at all. ]
I can't imagine how strange this is for you right now. [ Even as his voice breaks on the next words out of his mouth, Maruki is clearing his own heartbreak away. Putting it up on the shelf, shoving it to the very back corner. Refocusing only on Akira.
He can't keep doing more harm. He has to help. ] I'm sorry...
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[It escapes out of him, the quietest of breaths as Maruki keeps talking.
There are only two reasons that he can ever think that he would admit to such a thing. The first, low chance that it is, would be if he was directly found out like he'd been with Sojiro. It's obviously happened before, so it's not impossible. But the other option would be...
If he did something that's even more unlikely for him to ever do. Something he could never do with any adults in that school except Kawakami, and only because a freak accident opened the way for them to deal directly with one another...
Maybe it's because Maruki was (is?) a counselor. Maybe something unexpected happened. Or maybe... there was only something achingly familiar buried in the words he says and the moves he makes, and maybe whatever Akira that Maruki thinks he knows saw that, too.
Maybe, somehow, this is someone that Akira trusts with his entire life.
Wait. [The word bursts out of Akira, something even he can't place causing his voice to tremble.] Wait. Please.
[Why would I trust back then, when-
Blue and red lights, and a woman unable to look him in the eye as he's pulled away.
How could I trust, and someone in authority, when it only ever-
An impassable door, a searing gunshot.
And yet...]
Please... don't apologize.
[Because it hurts to hear. And that's something Akira can't make sense of, either.]
I don't... understand what's happening. [A severe understatement, but it still feels like something that needs to be said.] But you know me. You know about me, the greatest thing that I should never tell anyone else. The way you're talking about me, the way you're looking at me-
[Like you're grieving.
The words stick in his throat. He doesn't say it.
But he can't abide by this. He can't ignore someone in pain.]
Even if I can't understand... This isn't your fault.
[And he can ignore it even less if he's the cause of it.
He has to help.]
So let's try to understand, together.
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This isn't your fault.
Not his Akira, no, but still Akira.
It hurts worse, somehow. Whatever has broken open inside his chest gets caught between mending itself back together and cracking further, cycling rapidly between them again and again. It hurts, and it heals, and–
Maruki smiles. It's small, but it's entirely genuine. ]
You really are a remarkable young man.
[ He draws a deep breath. Keeps himself from reaching out, keeps his hands firmly in his jacket pockets. Steady, assured. They can try to understand, together. But Maruki has to do the heavy lifting.
And he can. He will. He remembers all too well how society failed Akira, how adults who should have known better turned a blind eye or made things worse. He refuses to be another disappointment in a young life rife with them. He will be strong, because Akira is strong; they can prop each other up here, even as they relearn each other. ]
Alright. It will help if I explain this place to you first. But, ah...
[ Maruki glances back, sees where he had left all his things carelessly on the ground. Another steadying breath, then back to Akira. ]
It's best if we leave the garden. Walk and talk. I understand if you don't feel comfortable following me just yet, though... [ Maruki chews his lip, briefly, then smiles again. ] It's up to you.
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It's meant for him... It's meant for someone else? Akira can't be sure.
But he knows it would be hard for him to hear, no matter what else was happening. Even when Sojiro says things like that... it makes so many feelings squirm through his chest.
How can he accept that, from someone he doesn't even know? It's like looking directly at the sun. It burns his skin, sears directly down to his soul.]
I...
["This place," when he has so many other things to deal with - but that's the point. They have to figure this out, together. He hasn't looked up, but the things scattered on the ground-]
These are your yours?
[It's poised like a question, but Akira is already kneeling down and gathering them into his arms. Books, perhaps journals, which aren't wholly unexpected... but phones? He picks them up anyway; it's not his business to pry.]
I have things I want to know, and you must have things you'd like to know, too. [For a moment, his hands are still. Processing. Just a bit unsteady, because he doesn't really know how to gather himself when Morgana is gone. And then he's in motion again, tapping the books together against his knees til they're straightened out before he holds them out to be taken.] If we're going to understand together, we can't do that by being alone.
[He can't trust, because there's only a few people he can do that with right now. Not yet, at least, even in spite of everything.
But he won't turn his back on the person that needs him.]
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Ah, it doesn't matter. Everything gets thrown into the satchel he swings over his shoulder – the very same as the one Akira's found himself with, though the contract and potion are long gone. ]
Thank you.
[ As they begin to make their way through the garden, Maruki keeps their pace to a casual amble. Things have been relatively safe lately, which actually doesn't engender much in the way of calm for him; he is alert every step of the way, on the watch for anything that could swiftly go wrong. Whatever power Akira does have back in their true reality, he doesn't know the full extent of, but Maruki does know he's without it now. He won't let him be hurt. The idea alone sinks deep fangs into his heart, cold dread replaced by a fierce need to protect.
What a strange turn of events, being the one someone can rely on. Even if they don't know it yet. ]
This place is called Somnius. Its true nature is unknown. I've been operating under the assumption that it's some sort of cognitive world, but we haven't yet been able to find a way to break free. [ We, the population at large. We, he and Akechi. He'll get there. ] To put to rest an understandable concern up front, it's been proven several times over by those who have left and returned that your reality, as you know it, won't go on without you. You don't have to worry about friends or family knowing you're missing, or anything important left undone...
[ He pauses, mouth twisting, then glances over at Akira. ]
Please, ask anything that pops into your head. I know how surreal it is. I've been here for half a year.
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Somnius...
[Akira starts there, at least, spelling out the unfamiliar word. That Maruki knows about cognitive worlds is alarming in itself - what exactly happened between them-? - but it does take a burden off. There's a chance he doesn't have to explain that, or at least explain much of it, because he's dealing with someone on equal footing.
In spite of everything, it's a strange comfort when there isn't much of that to be found.
His hands itch for his notebook, or a new one entirely, a place to organize his thoughts and list out what he knows, what he still needs to find out. He thinks of all the Monabuses that would be doodled between the margins with a sharp ache, and considers that perhaps it's better to not have it after all.]
You've been here for half a year, but time only passes within... whatever this place is, if I'm understanding that right. [So he addresses what he knows, and jumps into what he doesn't-] When you said that my probation hadn't happened "for you" yet, is that what you meant? It wasn't unprecedented for you, because you knew people could come and go without it having any effect on our reality?
[It requires having to rethink everything that he knows, to accept this as truth. But it's hardly the first time that Akira has ever had to do that.]
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He keeps it tempered, nods along with the question. ]
That's right. Setting aside other oddities between us, from your perspective, when you left your reality it was– August, I'm assuming?
[ Truly bizarre to consider. At the end of August, he'd spent the whole summer working on his research as much as he could and was simply biding his time until he and Akira could meet again in the halls of Shujin. And this Akira is a whole year out from that time, nonexistent as it is... ]
But from my perspective, when I left it was wintertime.
[ A beat, and one of those questions he's wanted answered for so long jumps onto his tongue. Maruki swallows it back, waits to see if this gets any reaction instead. ]
Christmas Eve, to be exact.
girl i just read this and refreshed and i still can't tell what changed, i can't read fr
Finding them there, already staring at him. Searching, like he knows something far too much. Like he's seeking an answer.
There's no way, and yet...]
I'd be from eight months later, then, yes. That seems like the way it works. [He swallows past the tightness in his throat, the instinctive need to swallow it down and keep it away, hidden, hidden-] If what I'm about to ask doesn't mean anything to you, it's something you don't need to worry about. But...
[It feels freeing. It feels like the deepest sort of betrayal. It's stepping onto a floor that isn't there, but believing that cognition will make it so.]
On that day... Did you see anything unusual in Tokyo?
[One way or another, this will answer something he wants to know. Not the accumulation of knowledge, though that's just as important.
But he'll know for sure, just how deep "his" trust for this man goes.]
asdhfsdkfhFLDKJDS leave me OLONEEEEEE
Finally.
Finally. ]
I've been waiting to talk about this for so long.
[ I missed you so much. ]
I was visiting my old university, so I was indoors, but when I looked out the window... I saw the sky turn red. [ They're nearly to the edge of the garden, walled off from the rest of the town. Maruki is in no hurry at all. He's only focused on Akira. ] The person I was meeting with couldn't see it, but I could.
[ When he first arrived in Somnius, he never would have guessed for a moment that it had anything to do with Akira. But he's learned enough now to connect those two strings, even if the rest still hang limp and mysterious. He doesn't know what happened, or why, or how. What it meant, what came next. He only knows that it did happen, and Akira knows it did too. ]
I CAN MAKE FUN OF MYSELF IF I WANT TO!!!
[He shuts his eyes and breathes, as steady as he can manage. Tries to think of Morgana's warm weight against his stomach when it's time for bed.
The others he spoke to didn't know what had happened. But he does still know the only people that could see that... were the ones he forged a bond with. Twenty-one strings of fate, neatly tied around his heart and holding him upright as he threw himself against the might of a god.
Akira opens his eyes. Fights against every instinct that fights bitterly within his soul, fights with every ounce of him that was able to take hold of Sophia and Zenkichi's hands and never, ever let go.
Twenty-two.
Twenty-three.
Twenty-four.]
What you saw was the aftereffect of a terrible battle the Phantom Thieves were in the middle of. [Akira's voice has shifted; something stiff lost, yet something else... something that Maruki may find familiar is there. It's not quite trust yet, but-] Most people were unable to see it, but I have some suspicions. When I talked to others later, the only ones who could see the sky change were... people that had a connection to us.
[A beat, and then...]
They were people that had a connection to me.
[His bonds, his true strength, the only thing between him and the enslavement of the world.]
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Maruki knew. He doesn't know how, but he knew. Some things that live that deep in one's soul can't be explained. He knew.
A hand rubbing gently between Akechi's shoulder blades as he retched onto bloodstained grass–
Eren's arms wrapped around him in the rubble of Eyn Sof–
And now, here at the edge of the Enchanted Garden, a hand coming up to clasp over Akira's shoulder. A squeeze, brief but firm, as he looks over at his once and future friend with nothing less than utter conviction burning straight through him when he says: ]
I believe you.
[ Maruki's hand drops away. ]
I believe we had that connection in my reality. And I believe that we didn't, in yours.
[ If the conviction burns him too, if he hurts, if he never stops hurting, so be it. There are more important things than his own heart. ]
You made it through that battle in both, didn't you? That's all that matters to me...
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It doesn't, not truly. But to Akira... it feels like it does. His heart must be beating, his breaths must be flowing- but he's too stunned to take stock of it all.
His world is narrowed to two things only: the pressure of a hand, and a single phrase.
"I believe you."
You...
[It penetrates straight to his heart, this impossible man that held a bond with him in what must amount to another life. It's not just the affection Maruki has for him... but the words he waited so long for someone to say.
They're the words that his soul screamed and cried out for, railing against the injustice done against him as he was sent away to a place entirely unknown.
They're the words that healed so many of the broken pieces within him, that made him feel like a person again. Ryuji and Ann, Sojiro and Sae.
They are the words he waited for and never received at the most critical juncture, his justice returned with betrayal.
They are the ones he laid awake wishing for and wondering what could have happened
if only someone had helped him back then.]
I think that I understand now.
[It's spoken distant, but not lost. He could be talking to Maruki, or himself, or simply no one at all.
There's nothing hurt in it. There's no sadness in it. There is only a sort of wonder.]
I won. We won. And if our realities are really different...
[He doesn't understand it, these impossibilities that go beyond even the fantastical that he learned. He understands even less how he could ever talk to someone like this, someone he doesn't know but who inherently knows him, an adult that had a position of power over him. Kurusu Akira does not trust easily, and he does not trust quickly, and he doesn't understand how that could ever change.
But it's okay, sometimes, to not understand anything at all.]
If you were there, too... I think there's no way that I could lose.
[Sometimes... you only need to believe.]
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[ A tight, choking heat rushes up the back of Maruki's throat.
He doesn't doubt that Akira is right, but god, all he wants is to be able to confirm it with the Akira that he knows best. Maruki mourns him even as he smiles at him.
A deep breath, a sharp exhale. He lets it go. There will be time to fall apart later. For now–
Beyond the walls of the garden, the town spills out before them. Maruki turns his attention away from Akira and winces at it. Distinctly medieval, like nothing he'd seen outside of movies before arriving here. The cottages and treehouses are closest, winding dirt and stone paths through them and what passes for a main road leading toward the town center. ]
It's a shock compared to Tokyo, huh? I would say you get used to it, but...
[ He hates it as much as he did the first day, scrambling through a dusty marketplace until his rescue by the Detective Prince.
Which, well.
That's the next step. ]
I can walk through the town with you. If you want to go your own way then, I'll understand.
[ Maruki rubs at the back of his neck. ]
I have a home farther outside of town. I can offer you a room there. All housing here is free, so you don't have to, of course. You can think about it.
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After all... there's a new thing to make sense of. He says the very first thing that comes to mind.]
Now you can say that you're from inaka, too.
[It's delivered completely deadpan, unexpected even for Akira himself. He didn't think he could joke around like that right now.]
I'd... like that, though. At least to come take a look at it, if nothing else. [He fiddles with his hair, voice a little bit softer.] I don't know if I could impose on you so soon, but... I'd like to at least come over and talk a little more.
[He doesn't want to be alone. Akira doesn't want to walk through this foreign, unfamiliar, cognitive town without Morgana at his side. But that isn't a weakness he'd show to even people that he already knew he'd die for, so it certainly isn't getting spoken right now.
He might as well get a more simple question out of the way, while he's at it.]
I don't know who else you might've met, but... Is there anyone else from Tokyo here?
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It draws a laugh out of Maruki that's so unexpected, it twists and stabs every inch of his windpipe on the way out. Months of suppressing any memory that might hurt too much to look directly at have made him nearly forget just how ridiculously funny Akira can be without even trying. God, he's missed this.
And he takes the invitation, thank god.
And asks the million dollar question right along with it.
Careful. Careful.
It's a long walk to the machiya. Maruki takes them on the most direct path, straight through the cottages toward the business district, where they'll eventually veer off. They can walk with purpose now. ]
So... There are two strange things about this place you should know. I mean– [ Maruki smiles over at him again, brows knitting together as if to say how stupid of me. ] Everything here is strange, but these are important. For us.
[ He gestures to the houses they walk past, quaint little stone cottages. Eren's old home is nearby. Jean still lives there part time. Some others he knows are in the area, too... ]
There are people here from many, many different realities. They all found themselves here just as you and I did, held captive for a wish. And a surprising number of them are from Tokyo, but... not our Tokyo.
[ A Tokyo overrun by demons. A Tokyo where superheroes and supervillains are real, codified jobs. A Tokyo seemingly normal, save for the ability to transport someone to a fantastical world. On and on. ]
You'll meet others from realities you could never dream of. Keep an open mind. Some of them are truly incredible people.
[ Well, that's one strange thing down. He'll wait to see how Akira digests it before breaking the bigger news. ]
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[Everything he knew was already being upturned, and now there's even more realities than whatever he and Maruki are dealing with... How can there even be multiple Tokyos? It's like the wildest manga plot he's ever seen.
But even so.
Believe, he thinks, a gentle reminder.]
If I'm honest, it's a little hard to wrap my mind around. [Such a candid thing from him-] But keeping an open mind won't be hard. It wouldn't be fair to stop believing in the impossible now.
[Whoever they are... they deserve a chance.
There's one thing Akira can't help but notice, though. Piercing eyes stare at the side of Maruki's head.
He never answered Akira's question.
It isn't enough to form distrust; not quite. It is enough to make him think. He could have indirect ways of speaking. He could know that Akira's friends mean more to him than the world itself, and to be trapped here away from them would be agony. Or... there could be something that Maruki doesn't want him to know.
It's too early to jump to conclusions. He needs to get more information, even if it's in the most indirect way possible.]
How many types of Tokyo do you think you've encountered so far?
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It is difficult to wrap one's mind around. Akira won't fully be able to until he experiences it for the first time himself. Every protective instinct in Maruki wants to be there for it, be the one to introduce him to the people here who matter, slowly and gently, but he can't. Akira has to stand on his own.
At the question, he thinks. There's Kurogiri and all his friends, of course. Subaru. Maki. Kazuya and Naoya. Dazai and Odasaku, even though they were from Yokohama. Chise, Kenma, Demi-Fiend... ]
Half a dozen or more. Some sound unbelievably different from our own. It's hard to imagine...
[ Maruki adjusts his satchel onto his other shoulder, veers them off toward an exit of the business district. He can bring Akira back later to show him around. The path they set out on will take them past the hill homes, off into the woods. He just walked this path this morning. It shouldn't be dangerous. They'll be fine.
The danger lies in what he has to say next. ]
To answer your earlier question, there is one other person from our reality here.
[ He waits until they're off the beaten path, out of earshot and sight of anyone else. However Akira reacts, Maruki will be here for it. No one else needs to know. ]
He's been here longer than I have. We didn't know one another before we met here, but we live together now. From my perspective, you should know him too... Akechi Goro?
[ If Maruki doesn't exist in Akira's reality, who's to say that Akechi does? They cycled through seemingly infinite realities only mere months ago, tied to one another for better and for worse in every single one. They're fated. It's a vanishing hope that Akira will remember one of them if he doesn't remember the other, but maybe... ]
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The world goes still again, but there is no peace to it. There is only the shock of it all going still, the dust shaken off the lockbox in his heart - and his feet, stumbling upon the ground. The strange bag he woke up with doesn't drop into the dirt, but only because he catches it at a delay.
Akechi Goro, here. Akechi Goro, the person he failed the most.]
You know Akechi.
[There's only one thing that truly frightens Akira, and that's running away. To leave behind someone in pain, or in need, or someone simply depending on him.
He doesn't get terrified, but this might be something adjacent to it.
His voice is soft, until it is no longer.]
Is he from your reality? [There's no finesse to his questions, now, only a raw urgency that threads through each of his words.] When is he from?
[That might not be the right way to refer to it, but he doesn't care anymore. Can't, to be more specific. He's a prisoner to the need to know more.]
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You–
[ It's a relief, and it isn't. A problem, and a solution. A tremendous heartbreak for reasons Maruki can't begin to touch upon – but for the first time this afternoon, that grief has nothing to do with Akira.
It's a relief. It should be a relief. His guiding light and his closest ally at least have one another.
It's a problem. It is a phenomenal problem.
And Maruki's expression doesn't betray more than brief shock before his brows draw down. He doesn't want Akira to panic. He wants to hold his shoulder, or touch his back, but these are casual touches he's grown used to with his friends here, not something Akira would be used to, even if they did know one another–
So Maruki settles for stopping their walk in its tracks. Turning toward Akira, serious and calm. ]
Breathe. It's alright.
[ Half-dead in the courtyard of a castle. Sick and shaking on the floor of its bathroom. You're alright. He has to tell Akechi before they get within shooting distance of the machiya. He can't hurt both of them like this. ]
We've never had reason to doubt that we're from the same reality, although now that's a more complicated question, obviously...
[ They never met. He saw Akechi on television, and that's it. There's no way of knowing. Maybe Akechi has been from Akira's reality all along. ]
As for when, I don't know. I've never gotten a straight answer out of him.
[ Early June was a lie, and he knows it. Their future plans for November upon their return came up once and only once, and not with enough context for Maruki to be certain of anything.
Akira can ask Akechi himself. If he gets a better answer than Maruki has, more power to him.
Still stalwart, but his tone softens into sympathy. The panic that's risen up in Akira is so unlike his friend. ]
He may be home. I'll check. If you're not ready to see him, for whatever reason, Kurusu-kun, we don't have to go there.
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It's alright.
Morgana, he thinks and does not say, because he will not be weak - but it helps. Somehow, the words help, sink in, get his brain to chug along and attempt to work.
Now more than ever, it's critical that he focuses. He must be Joker.]
That sounds like him.
[It flays him apart to even say it.]
Sorry. I didn't mean to... [He's calmer again, getting there, not quite Leader of the Phantom Thieves-calm, but approaching it at a sedate pace. He should never act like that, for any reason, but it seems he's full of slipups today.] If he's there, then I still want to go. I need to see him.
[Needs to see him alive, moving, in front of him.
Needs to search his body for a bullet wound, so maybe he won't have to breathe around the empty space inside himself.]
Will you still take me there?
[The question feels small, fragile and slipping into too-formal. But it doesn't help any of them to turn away from this. Not Akira, not Maruki.
And not Akechi, either.]
no subject
Akira doesn't have to ask. He never has to ask for a single thing again. Maruki would do anything, anything for him. ]
Of course.
[ As he turns to begin walking again, he swings the satchel off his shoulder, fishes the smart phone out. Taps a quick message as he speaks– ]
You don't have to apologize. I can only imagine how jarring all of this is. My own arrival is beginning to feel tame in comparison.
[ –and hits send.
Phone tucked away again, satchel back over his shoulder. Whatever Akechi replies with won't be seen. ]
If it's alright, though... I don't think I should stay once we get there. You two should have your space. I don't want to meddle.
no subject
[Maruki has affection for him, one that seems to run deep, and Akira would really rather that he not find him dead.
Does Akechi still intend to kill him? If his reality is "early" enough, maybe not. Maybe he doesn't even know. How much does Akechi even know Akira...?
He can't think about this. Can't afford to. The only thing he can do is try to survive. Survive long enough to protect Maruki. Survive long enough to apologize to Akechi, if he owes that "yet".]
There's more I'd like to say.
[So he has to make it through this long enough to say it.
He hasn't forgotten the one thing, either. Akira has to say it for sure before they get to the house.]
no subject
Maruki is not that man. He fights every day to not become that man. But he knows himself. He knows that if he stays, he will meddle.
And he needs time to process this. He needs–
The only person who will understand, as ever.
Still, though. He owes Akira this. He owes him so much. ]
Of course I'll come back. There's something else I need to do this afternoon, but I always come home to cook dinner. And you're welcome to stay as long as you want, like I said...
[ Although he sure did offer that up before Akira knew Akechi was in the picture! God, what a mess.
The path through the woods isn't a true road by any stretch of the imagination, but it is well-worn. Maruki has to wonder if they'll see anyone from the farm, the only other housing this far out. ]
Either way, there's more I want to discuss with you too. I could talk your ear off for days on end, hah... [ He scratches at the back of his neck with a little laugh. Waves that hand through the air then, sheepish. ] Anyhow, fire at will.
no subject
[He takes a breath. Stops walking entirely, in fact.
It was important to say this before. It feels even more important now, when he doesn't know what will come after this.]
Before, when I said I couldn't lose... You said that you hoped so. [His hands grip the satchel that he's never owned before, and Akira remembers to breathe.] I just wanted to say that... it isn't something you have to hope for.
[He feels firm. Now... he feels like Joker.
He's the Kurusu Akira that faced Yaldabaoth and won.]
All you have to do is believe in me. If you knew me well enough to see the blood in the sky... believe in me. [His voice is strong, just a touch deeper. If it's the last thing he'll have a chance to say before whatever happens with Akechi, Akira is going to make it count.] If I won in a world without you in it, I'll never lose in one that has you.
[Another breath, and this one is a release. The conviction in his voice doesn't lessen, but his tone returns to something softer.]
That was all I wanted to say. Well- [A half-shrug and something that's almost a smile.] Not the only thing. But it was what I needed you to know.
closes eyes. we can prolly wrap it up on yr reply but trust me i do want to die
And then–
It isn't something he has to hope for. All he has to do is believe in Akira. He would never lose in a world that has Maruki.
Something ruptures. One too many stones stack upon his chest, and then the whole thing caves in. He can't repair the scaffolding quickly enough to prop himself up and plaster back over it. If I won in a world without you in it, and such a world shouldn't exist, Akira should be yet another person he's meant to always find – I'll never lose in one that has you, and maybe that's why they're here now, maybe it was meant to happen like this. Maybe a final goodbye in a nurse's office after a decadent tempura udon lunch was only the beginning of one of reality's infinite concentric circles.
Maruki feels himself smile through it. Somehow. It wavers, but it's true. ]
I know that you're right. I've never doubted you. This place... it will mess with us. With everyone. But that's one promise I want to make to you now, Kurusu-kun.
[ People like them, they don't give up. Maruki will prove it in the foundation they rebuild, brick by brick. ]
No matter what happens, I won't ever doubt you.
[ He'll bring Akira to the machiya after this. He'll deliver him to Akechi, he'll go his own way for a while to fall apart, he'll piece himself back together and return for a meal and a discussion as they learn one another for the first time all over again. And they'll keep doing that, the next day and the next, until this reality shatters beneath their feet.
But first:
Maruki extends a hand to shake. ]
wrapping........ derogatory...........
He doesn't tremble, but the feelings crash into him like a wave. What could have been, if only he'd had someone to tell him all this so long ago? Maybe it would've looked just like this.
Maybe it looked like someone extending a hand, saying they would believe him, saying they would never doubt him, instead of turning their eyes to the ground during his greatest time of need. Maybe it feels like Sojiro teaching him to cook, or Akira teaching Zenkichi to cook, and a smile full of pride instead of a frown of shame. Maybe it feels like the warmest well done he's ever heard, and an adult acting the way they should even once.
To experience it like this, near instantly, is flooring. Is it a product of this unique situation, or did an Akira in another timeline or reality or life feel just as swept away in this feeling? Did it feel like meeting someone he should've known for his whole life, relatable and with his whole heart on display for Akira to see? Did it feel like knowing someone he could lower so many masks around and bear so many of his vulnerable pieces?
He can't be sure. But what he does know is that he's feeling too many things to name. He knows he feels lighter and heavier at the same time. And what he knows most of all is-]
Thank you.
[Small and quiet, true and genuine.
He knows he wants this to last. The rest... he can figure that out. That's what Akira always does.
When he takes Maruki's hand, his own is steadier than he thought it might be.
His Arcana... Akira wonders what it was, what it looks like. What he'd feel like seeing it in the Velvet Room, or when Chihaya's fingers overturned it in the middle of a reading.
It would be a warm feeling, he thinks. Maybe he'd even smile. It would've been a nice counterpoint to the hollowness anytime after seeing La Justice.]
I promise I'll live up to that. [He will. He'll show him. Whatever that other Akira did - Akira will be worthy of it, too. Because, after all-] It's a deal.
[A bond is forged.]
1/2 HEHEHEHEHEHEH cw: gore, violent thoughts, murder
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.]
no subject
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.
haunts u wrong haunts u wrong
They shouldn't ever do that. There's no reason for them to ever do that, and yet-
For a full second, Kurusu Akira has no control over his masks, or his expression, or his breaths or his body or his mind. And that means there is no filter or shield for the pure and undiluted grief that streaks across his face.]
Akechi.
[His voice is unsteady. A crack, a break, a splintering of Joker. He should never be this way in front of anyone, let alone Akechi. Akechi, who was almost a rival. Akechi, who was an ally that he wished could've been a friend.
The way he says his name is an echo, haunting him, of piercing gunshot and unyielding bulwark. It's the sight of his own fists pounding against the door til they ached. It's the smell of blood filling his nose in his dreams, hiding under the salt and metal like a concealed dagger.
Akira rallies, steadies, because he is still who he is. His breaths, voice, eyes even out. His hands don't, so he stuffs them in his pockets at a slouch like he would any other time. He must be Joker right now, and if his body won't comply, he will force it to.
So, think. He has to think. Akechi is talking politely, so he either doesn't know Akira's seen the other side of him, or he's pretending that he isn't. He's saying Kurusu, so he's not from right when they met. He has to gain every bit of information that he can, but-
he's still bleeding out inside from looking at Akechi right in front of him, alive and breathing
Akira is off his game. He's in too much pain. And so he asks the most direct way he can, for better or worse.]
What's the last thing you remember from back home?
MEAN TO ME CW: violent thoughts, murderous intent, murder, gore, emeto mention
Akira reacts in the one way he didn't prepare for after the series of dings warned him of a problem heading to his doorstep. There's a tremor that shakes him, a strain that surprises - Akechi's face stays neutral throughout it all. Concentrates more on how he should respond. How he should look. How he should meet this unknown variable lodged into his ad hoc plans.]
That's a complicated question - one I should be asking you.
[Slow, tempered and -
he ignores how blood starts to leak under the rim of Akira's glasses. A phantom drip, drip, drip against the wooden floor - keeps his gaze steady on the spot between his eyes, as if he can see through the fringe of black bangs.
No, he-]There isn't a hole there. No matter and viscera leaking through. No splinters of skull destroying the face of someone who would only remain in his memory.
To be frank, I don't remember anything. I haven't been able to in full since arriving -
[Can't recall
Being hunched over the toilet's edge of a too pristine bathroom, with his fingers tugging at his hair. Elated. Delighted. Laughing until echoes bounced off walls of an apartment paid for with the blood of more than some shitty high school kid, a piece of criminal trash, who stuck his nose where it didn't belong.
He shifts his posture because Akechi should. One handed folded over the other, both resting against his stomach, eyes turning -No where.
Staring at an unmarked spot on a 'friend's face because nothing was ever there and it might be there and it won't be there and it may be there an if he can wipe the memory from his mind because he's here and standing here and talking to him like he's here and-]
It makes me a bit dizzy when I try to reflect on it. Please forgive me, Kurusu. I know that's not what you're hoping to hear.
[And Akechi breathes, and stands tall, and speaks with feigned unease, as if Akechi gives a shit about any memory that may have held Akira Kurusu being gone. As if it troubles him. As if he's trying to shake off a dizzy spell. As if anything in this fucking shithole matters.
As if Kurusu Akira matters to him.]
Maybe it would help if you told me what you remembered. That face you were making troubles me. [A beat, because Akechi is supposed to care. He doesn't want him any further than this goddamn doorframe. Wants him buried deep underground. Wants him anywhere but here and-] Oh! You're welcome to sit down, if you want. I'm sure contending with the reality of this situation has been tiring.
you're mean to ME, going to bed at a NORMAL TIME like a NORMAL PERSON
Something about that is strange, though, isn't it? Maruki said he's never been able to get a straight answer out of him; Akira knows that falls in line with his behaviors. But Maruki also knew that Akira should know him...
...
...He can't be sure.
Does this place effect memories themselves? Maybe it's not just that Akechi is trying to hide things; maybe he actually does have pieces of his memory missing.
Wouldn't an existence like that be nightmarish? Akechi could be from the last time Akira saw him, and he wouldn't even know if Akira was an ally or someone that meant him harm.]
...It's alright. [His voice is quiet, but it comes out a little more subdued than he intended. Shuttered, as if trying to hide away the grief he spilled out all over the floor.] If you don't remember, it's nothing you need to worry about.
[Akechi could be lying. Akechi could be telling the truth. Akira doesn't think he'd be able to tell either way.
The only thing he can do now is try to gather information. That's always been the most important thing for him to do.]
Thanks, though. I'll sit in a minute. [With how restless he is right now, the thought of sitting makes Akira want to jump straight through the roof. He'll do what he can before that. Much easier like this to assess his surroundings, like a cat that needs to be at the highest point in a room.] Maybe I can figure out a few things without asking you too much. Do you happen to know if you met Maruki- [Akira stumbles. Shit. Maruki-san? Maruki-sensei? He wants to take a nap for twelve hours minimum.] -san here? Is this your first time... meeting me?
[The second question... He's almost certain of how Akechi will answer that, but it doesn't hurt to be sure. Either way, Akira is about to confirm a lot or come away with many more questions.]
cw: VIOLENT THOUGHTS - GOES TO BED EARLIER OUT OF SPITE, NEVER STOPS SLEEPING, NEVER RELENTS
There would be no relationship between them if he wasn't someone that could pick meaning out of the miniscule. Form connections out of staggered lines made from a honed blade, a sharper tongue.
But Akira is new to subterfuge and deception. Has more bonds forged than have ever been broken. Knows how to adjust, adapt and lie. Can manipulate and exploit as much as Akechi Goro.
Only one of them ended up affixed to a chair in a dingy room, bleeding from a hole in their skull. There's a limit to what Akira can do.
Akechi lets the conversation shift - an excuse bought for the moment. One he'll keep up for as long as necessary. Maruki clearly said nothing and-
Maruki. Maruki Takuto, who worked at Shujin Academy and had a strong relationship with a secret leader of the Phantom Thieves. Akechi knows through passing comments, allusions, memories of many realities converging into one. They've never spoken about Kurusu Akira, but Akechi can infer from a stumble in Akira's normally confident voice, notes the absence of a man who knew better than to leave them alone and would have only done so if-
Akechi once told him everyone had a limit. He almost wishes he could see what was happening. Take comfort in being right, as someone falls apart and collapses into rot.]
Maruki-san - [Repeated, slow. Assured. His eyes don't leave Akira. He'll get information like this - figure out where he's from like this.] Isn't someone I knew prior to being in this reality. Tokyo is massive, as you're well aware. It's impossible to confirm if he's from my world or not. However, after half a year with him, I have enough cause and reason to assume we do.
[And
Is this your first time meeting me?
Elicits a laugh - mirthless, at first. Feigned amusement after.]And to your final question - in our reality, I recall meeting you. [Cautious. Careful. Give a little, take a lot.] While I may not know the exact circumstances prior to my arrival, we were well acquainted and spent time together on multiple occasions.
[His arms unfold and rest against his side. As if he's comfortable. As if they're digging into the truth out of the world, piece by piece, in a shitty little attic. As if he doesn't want to throw Akira against a wall and shoot until the Machiya is painted in shades of red.]
If I may go back - you seemed to hesitate at Maruki-san's name. I'm surprised - he claimed to be a counselor at Shujin Academy. I thought you would be well acquainted. [A pause, and-] Perhaps I'm reading too much into it. I have a bad habit of doing so.
i will simply have to destroy my sleep schedule even more so i can GET YOU
Akechi is still good, though; not caught out easily on the obvious bait that Akira laid for him. It's still an Akechi that he knows, then, even if "knowing" is a relative term when it comes to the two of them. The way Akechi describes their relationship could make him laugh, though, even if there would be no humor in it. If only things had been that way...
If things had been that way, then maybe...
It doesn't serve anything to think about it now, probably. But it is what helps Akira make a decision. Akechi has his cards as close to the vest as ever, so Akira will lay all of his directly on the table.]
No, you're not reading it wrong. He has memories of me, and seemingly important ones too... but I've never met him before.
[When he gets like this... the only way to counter Akechi is to meet him head on.]
When we spoke, Maruki-san talked about different realities. I don't entirely get it... but I think there must be something to it. Both of our memories are different, but both feel too real.
[It's difficult like this. He can't tell if Akechi is from a world with Maruki or not, but the most he can do now is try to push at this from every angle he can. Even if Akechi actually doesn't remember... Akira can still try to find any inconsistencies that can help build up the bigger picture.]
mutual destruction of sleep schedules for tags 👉👈 for 👉👈 little treats 👉💣👈
[It's bizarre. A story told in few words. Akira doesn't hesitate to explain the situation - offers up a priceless gift with information that doesn't need teased out, as if they're old friends. It throws him off, as always, but the leader, Joker, Kurusu Akira was always like that and-
Continues to be that way and-
Stands in front of him, ever impenetrable, despite his open demeanor. A heart open and free, but not lacking the teeth to bite down the second Akechi slips.
And Akechi Goro won't. Never has. Never will.]
It makes me wonder if he was lying - with no one else to corroborate the story, that seems plausible. Adults often do strange things to get where they want, to speak to those they deem necessary. It wouldn't be a stretch to think he's one of them. It's far more common than one might think.
[It's not a lie. Not a stretch. Akechi knows now, more than ever, Maruki Takuto wandered the halls of Shujin Academy, and unleashed an undeserved, unwanted, grotesque kindness to those that came into that room. A man torn to shreds by his own crippling desire to heal once.
A man who knows the Phantom Thieves. Knows Akira. Knew enough of the two of them to form a reality with it. A world Akechi can barely remember - hostages and negotiators. It was no different than their true reality anyway. ]
But I wonder why he would be fascinated with you, if that's the case? Any ideas, Kurusu?
the 💣 really does perfectly encapsulate what opening this tag felt like
His mask doesn't falter so badly this time; he spent an entire month acting in front of him to fail like that twice today. But the doubt that slices through Akira's entire being is still enough to make him falter.
If a woman were to obscure the truth to save herself, even if he didn't know her-
If Igor could lead him on while being the one behind it all, even if Akira had doubted him from the start-
If Akechi could almost feel like a friend if he looked at him too long, even though Akira knew he was planning his murder-
It shakes him down to the core. To have an old wound closed by someone he caused another in, only to doubt him now - it cuts Akira to the core. It's devastating, having the doubt poisoning the well of good intentions, knowing that it all could be about to happen again.
And yet...
That blood-filled sky. To know it and be able to see it means only one thing, and Akira has to remember that. Even if Maruki's intentions aren't pure... Even if it would hurt-
There's still a universal truth. He cannot ever forget what his bonds mean.
He cannot lose to Akechi Goro, because his bonds are what will make him stronger and untip the scales in this unfair game.]
We probably just got along well. Even from a first meeting, Maruki-san is... [How to describe it. How to even word that.] ...I think I could see why would we talk a lot, if I'd met him back home.
[It feels wrong, that he didn't get to. But maybe, for some reason, even as confusing all this is... maybe that's why he had to come here. To see Maruki.
To see Akechi-]
Even so, I'm going to trust him for now. He already knows something no one else would know, unless they'd gotten close to me.
[It's the truth, and it rings with it. But it's also a trap, laid for Akechi whether he walks in or out of it. Akira has to learn what he can, by any means.]
💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥cw: still murder lmao
Thrill. Adrenaline. Tit for tat - a tug forward. A trap and olive branch held out with one single comment, waiting for Akechi to grasp it. He needs to be flexible and adapt his approach - they're both feeling one another out, which is telling in its own right, but there was tension between them even before Akechi pressed hot steel against his forehead and
shot
Without regret, without remorse, without mercy.]How mysterious.
[And
knows everything.
Maruki Takuto knew everything. Knows. Learned over time and with his own intuition. From realities merged and warped to distort their minds.Akira is at a disadvantage.
Akechi wants to keep it that way and-This is a dance. Relaying too little tells more than spewing the truth. Dangle a rope over a drowning man, a piece of meat over a lion's den - he can do it with some exercised caution, feigned unease filtering his tone.]
That could be any number of things, couldn't it? You're an enigmatic man with no shortage of secrets held under the surface. It almost makes me wonder if someone else could have relayed it to him.
[The Detective Prince, who knows about the Phantom Thieves. Akechi, who walked among them with his own will lay bare. Akechi Goro who considered it all meaningless and left a body to rot in a jailcell.]
Bonds can be forged after all.
[Born in fire of injustice. Warped around lies.]
Do you really trust that he knows that about you? Perhaps there's another here willing to put your secrets on display to the world and he took advantage. You had many acquaintances. Friends. We can't ever know how many inhabitants from our Tokyo reside in this reality or have, at one point. A loud mouthed individual may have told stories to another who never knew about our world and it was stated to a curious man with no shortage of free time.
Wouldn't it be interesting if all your trust was because of a mistakenly shared statement?
[A hand raises to his chin in pensive thought, as if the matter only occurred to him with Akira's appearance. As if he's truly vexed by the idea.]
That's only a hypothetical, of course. Something to keep in mind - I've been living with him for some time and have a decent grasp of his behavior and principles.
i'm gonna be more shocked if the murder cw stops
[And finally, Akira sits. He sits, because there's no reason to stand anymore. Now, he's certain of it. Now, he knows that he has an advantage.
It wasn't really a surprise, though, even as it makes that empty space inside of him ache. The piece that Akechi needs to confirm any of this is something that he'll never have, because it comes long after his time.]
I trust Maruki-san, because I trust the people who know about what he told me. Even the ones that can be talkative... It isn't something they'd say to others lightly.
[He'd discussed it with the others, but Maruki is the only one he ever spoke about his theory to. Anyone else wouldn't even know that he'd made the connection.
Akira has enough confidence now that he isn't afraid. He can go on the offensive now. He crosses his legs as he gazes at Akechi, assessing his reactions.]
I'm noticing that you have a lot of interesting hypotheticals for someone you happen to be living with. [He tilts his head to the side; his glasses clearly show the sharp brightness of his eyes.] Has something about living with Maruki-san given you a reason to distrust him?
[Is Maruki hiding something? Is Akechi a threat to Maruki? He'll glean these as best as he can.]
yeah well maybe this is the one dont look any further than this line - cw:murder
Akechi doesn't take orders - only feigns that subservience. A plan formed in the corner of a forgotten room, in a dingy foster home, doesn't look that different from one made on the fly in a pristine, untouched apartment. Exploit the exploitable. Follow a leader until a spine can be severed.
But Akira
was always different.
Certainty in the uncertain, confident in false worlds -relentless and unshakeable.
A wild freedom in his eyes that Akechi wanted to rip free for himself - his eyes only, his heart only. He wanted to see how Kurusu Akira operated then, and so he followed to get a taste of that life for himself.Their lives didn't mean anything, so what was the harm in stealing a small piece from each of them. They wouldn't be alive for long beyond that point - one person in particular, dead in a cold room. The others-
Likely to follow, if Akechi couldn't enact his plan before then. It wouldn't matter either way. One, two, six more bodies on a pile of them - it's all meaningless.
And so he follows now - Akira sits at a table Akechi has shared with another night after night and after night. The hum of Tokyo's evening news draws him to the bar, the clatter of curry pots ushers him into a seat next to an intruder, and the sight of Joker in a gaze subdued keeps him plastered to the spot.]
That's a difficult question, Kurusu. I should refute one implication of your statement now though - I wouldn't share a space with someone I couldn't handle, trust or not.
[The counter isn't wet, but he can feel the phantom residue of a freshly wiped counter creeping up his elbow. A comfortable, hunched position in a place where Akechi could be himself and here -
With Maruki Takuto
Whose entire being formed another safe haven for someone who lost theirs long ago. Akechi can't stand him. Hates this place, in this moment, more than he ever has. Hates Akira's legs dangling only an arm's length away, a throat closer than that.Akechi doesn't look away. Doesn't stumble on his words. Kurusu Akira is someone he can handle too.]
But in the matter of Maruki-san-
[Maruki
stop.
He's among the ranks of those who deserve to walk above the rot, and who are destined to be drowned in it under the weight of their own resolve.Like Akira.]
You never truly know anyone. Not even a full view of heart, mind and soul can show everything. Intentions are missed, motivations are lost and some matters are meant to be locked up.
[His gaze remains steady against-
a quaint beige wall illuminated by colorful, vintage lights.
Against wood paneling that looks both worn and brand new.Akechi
to play his part.
Because Akira dons his own mask, and Maruki will too.]In saying that, he's also a man with an unshakeable resolve and holds a genuine desire to understand those around him. [It's pathetic. Akechi's face doesn't show it - only bares a thoughtful neutrality over a man he knows, and will never comprehend.] As an ally in this world, you could hardly do better. He's competent, resourceful and intelligent. [A beat.] You've met some interesting characters in your time in Tokyo - what's one more? I have no doubt you'll come to your own conclusion on the matter.
And when that day comes, I look forward to hearing it.
here queen u dropped ur cw: murder (jk there's still none in mine)
It's hard to read all of Akechi's thoughts, his emotions and desires; even if he feels like Akira's match, one mirror in front of another, they simply didn't spend the time together that they needed to know one other like that. As such, he can make calculated, often correct guesses, but ones that still have a little room for error.
He doesn't think that Akechi is one to speak highly of another person like this.
His face is neutral as he speaks, and somehow that's more of a window than if he had that camera-ready smile in place. The idea of them living together, spending time together, is so hard to wrap his mind around. He can't predict what kind of relationship they have. But for Akechi to say something like that...
...What exactly have he and Maruki Takuto been through together?]
You don't speak about him lightly. That's interesting praise. [Praise that's higher than I expected you to say, from how you were talking. He leans back in his seat, mind working quickly.] I'll just have to see for myself what sort of relationship we'll end up having.
[I'll have to wait to see if there's a day that I can look either of you in the eye without choking on my own guilt.
Maruki may very well be hiding something. Akechi always is, regardless of how many memories he's lost. But Akechi doesn't throw around a word like "ally" unless he intends to be one until the appointed time. This is one thing Akira knows.
Maybe it's fine, then, if he places his bets with the both of them.]
oh thank u puts it back up on the shelf cw: MURDER CONTINUED
[The disdain that wraps around his heart doesn't shake his tone in the slightest. It remains steady.
He can't stand it. Knows for a fact that Akira will manage with effortless ease to intertwine himself in the lives surrounding this machiya and beyond. That he'll fill all the gaps in their rotten hearts with something stronger. False affection, feigned bonds. A free heart is unchained and seeking. A bound one wants nothing more than to be strangled.
And Akechi will be there to drag them back down - Maruki Takuto is on his level. He won't relinquish that hold - not now, not ever, not to some attic trash that gets a second chance in a false world. Eren, Aubrey - he can't allow it.
But the gracious, magnanimous leader is here in all his purported glory, settled comfortably and neatly at a table like it's his shitty little cafe. Like he belongs in Akechi's home, instead of an untouched, unmarked grave.
Maybe his parents were notified - Akechi never cared to follow up on the after. Some delinquent going missing doesn't even make the news these days. It was nothing to him to watch blood flow from an open wound on his face, and drip-
drip
To the wooden ground-The stone ground.
Akechi blinks and peels his eyes away from a floor he doesn't remember turning towards. Smiles and folds his hands on the counter, one gloved palm over the other.]
What's your plan now? I know it must be overwhelming to contend with this false world and I'm sure he's offered you a place to stay. [He can't stand it.] If I may confirm - we have plenty of space here and it would be beneficial for us to stick together for the time being. Of course, I know it will be an adjustment. [He can't stand it.] You can always leave when you get more acquainted with this reality if you so choose, but until then-
Well, what do you say, Kurusu?
a great spot... now they can see it every time they have dinner :)
He ingests every word Akechi says.
And he watches every move that Akechi makes.
What was he thinking about, dropping his gaze like that? It's hard to say, because he doesn't know what's missing from him. He could simply be thinking of his own relationship with Maruki... or maybe it's one of Akira's bonds with someone else.
It couldn't be Akira's bond with Akechi himself... could it?]
Maruki-san offered me a place here, yes. [He starts out slow, not mentioning a bit of what he's thinking. He's back to the usual game of theirs; cards held close to the chest, not talking about things they actually mean. Like always, though, it's still a little bit of multitasking, because this is something that they need to discuss as well.] I told him I was still waiting to decide, because I wanted your input first.
[It would be beneficial for us to stick together for the time being.
Whatever Akechi remembers, it's clear to Akira that he's still operating the same way. He's either doing his best to play nice, or he actually does want Akira here for the sake of keeping an eye on him. Maybe it's even both.]
Even if we know each other, it's a lot to impose on someone to live together. If you want your privacy or otherwise, I don't mind staying somewhere else that's nearby.
[It's a lie, but Akira is good at those.
He's always been good at hiding it all. His wants, his likes, his feelings. It's easier to be what people need you to be if you don't let anything messy spill out. Expression perfectly impassive and calm as always. It's just as easy to hide that the loneliness of staying away would drown him alive, just as it's easy to not let on to the fact that living here would crack apart his heart every single day.
Focus turned away from himself. Questions asked to the other party. He knows what to do, same as always, even if the weight of the circumstances is more leaden than usual.]
It's a kind offer. I'd be happy to stay here, but I want to be sure. Is that what you want, too?
cw: murder, violent thoughts, suicidal ideation MAYBE??? yay 🔫🔫🔫🔫🔫🔫🔫🔫🔫
Is
what
heMore than anything. More than ever.
An enemy only two walls away. One one train ride away. Only one Metaverse overlap away.A person that allowed Akechi in his world, once. Gave opportunities for Akechi to kill him with a turned back, cups of coffee pushed into his hand, insight into his life beyond his criminal enterprise.
It's his turn to repay the favor.]
I want you to stay. We're allies, aren't we? Friends, perhaps? Though I would hate to put words in your mouth.
[In the coming days, Akechi will turn his back to a once 'friend.' Press cups of coffee into Akira's hand. Wait for the night Joker slinks in through an unlocked door to press a barrel against Akechi's skull as revenge. As retaliation. As a rival. He wants it more than ever. Missed it, more than anything.
He holds out a hand - gloved, pristine. He wants to feel Akira - alive, so alive, completely alive. Warm and alive. Breathing and alive Akira.]
It sounds like we've come to an agreement. Let's shake on it. It's customary to do so and I find the symbolism of it important.
:) :) :) i get to do it now too :) cw: nightmares, blood, physical assault
Akechi said he didn't need friends.
Friends is a loaded word, one that fills his stomach with weights and puts a coppery tang of guilt in his mouth. Allies is safer. Indicative, as well, even if Akechi hadn't meant to give away that he's likely from a time that's after he blackmailed the Phantom Thieves. He's almost certain Akechi wouldn't have called them friends before that, with the yawning gap of distance between them, but Akira's surprised that he'd even use the word now.
It's not a word that Akira ever deserves to have applied to Akechi Goro.
Akechi, who understood how his mind worked better than even his most trusted friends, that wore masks in such a familiar way that it felt like a reflection of Akira's own self. Akechi, who betrayed him and dealt the worst kind of pain, even if Akira had expected it from the beginning of their arrangement. Akechi, who was a regular guest star in all of Akira's reoccurring nightmares, drenched up to his arms in blood and worse as he tried to staunch the flow from a bullet wound he couldn't stop.
The nightmares have never ended, but at least they're less than they were right after it happened. Sometimes he wonders what it means, to hope that he'll have nightmares that exaggerate everything that happened in the interrogation room - enough of the truth serum injected into his veins to make them burn, hallucinations dancing across his eyes, every limb dislocated and useless as he's beaten within in an inch of his life... to hope for that instead of seeing Akechi's death, when Akechi is the one who put him there, surely must mean there's something wrong with him.
He'd almost forgotten. He'd almost learned how to breathe around the emptiness in his chest. He'd almost been able to pretend that he was a happy person.
It's an alliance that Akira again has to accept, because it's too precarious to refuse. The guilt of it will scald him, and that's alright, because it's just an extension of what he still has to live with every day.
Maybe it's simply that his penance has finally come to collect.]
They aren't words that I hate. [Because it's true.] I'm glad you think of us that way. [Because it's what Akira would wish for, if anyone would answer his prayers bent at the glass of a Tokyo toy store.] Let's make it official, then.
[It's a forgotten key clicked back into place, the pages of an old well-loved book crinkling through his soul. It's the whisper of a bond, of a red string of fate snapped in half but stitched back together. It's the threads of wants and wishes and likes, masks and La Justice and regret, gossamer silk wrapped around his heart and wrists and throat.
It's Metatron humming in his chest, impossible to reach or to feel more than the ghost sensation of, because all must return to zero before it reaches the end.]
Rather than just an agreement... Let's make a deal.
[A ghost of words Akira wasn't the one to say, because he'll be haunted until the day he dies.]
For as long as I'm here, I'm an ally to both you and Maruki-san.
[He takes Akechi's hand in his to shake, firm and nostalgic.
In a world where the impossible is meant to make sense... maybe he can claw and fight his way to steal Akechi's life back with his own two hands.]
oh mny GOD : ) we can wrap here <3 cw: violent thoughts
He should.
'I'm glad you think of us that way.'Akira is fool - freed and tied down by a desire for bonds. A rope around a throat that tightens and tightens until he's dragged into a room to die alone. He doesn't even fight it. Walks into looped trap each and every time.
Akechi can do this again and again.
He shouldn't.
'Let's make it official, then.Akira is a fool - he can do this. It's the same as ever.
Akechi's always one step ahead, smarter, ready to place blade into back, gun to head. There won't ever be a point when Kurusu Akira-
Plays him for a fool again. In this reality or the next - Akechi's ready. Prepared. Akira's up to something now - was then.
A flicker of Joker is always in his poised responses, languid movements, confident words. Akechi can't stand him.
Become allies. Become friends.
Akira doesn't confirm their relationship - smart as ever, careful as always. Claims to be allies now. Will stay allies now.
In Akira's distorted mind, Joker is planning to have the last laugh. Is trying to lay the groundwork for it now. It won't happen. Won't ever happen.
Akechi's stronger. Smarter. A planner and exploiter.
Akira's better. A healer. Tactician. Uses empathy to exploit, willpower to turn that into gain.
Give up his ideals for good.
It's grounding in the worst possible way - a confirmation of the dire reality of this disgusting world, this horrible situation. A dead man walks, touches him, fingers over his, palm to palm - he's alive. No specks of crimson on his skin. He's alive with no putrid smell stinging his nose.Akechi Goro can't breathe, so Akechi does. Akechi Goro can't smile, so Akechi does. Akechi Goro can't fathom the bright, burning warmth that surges through his chest - not joy, not grief. It's entirely new, a sensation that's only for Kurusu Akira.
Akechi lets go so Akechi Goro can breath. Akechi stands up so Akechi Goro can think and Akechi-
Motions to the rest of the room like the actor he was born to be.]
Well then - let me be the first to say it. Welcome home, Kurusu.
no subject
[ 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?
no subject
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.]
no subject
I can tell.
[ There's none of the smugness or condescension that might accompany those words, though. It's a simple statement of fact. There's no surprise in him being a person who would pick up hobbies for others. ]
It's easier than most people think. The hard part is ensuring that you don't make any mistakes. If you make even one, then your entire strategy will collapse... Hmm, playing against a novice is nice. You're much more motivated than others I've played against.
[ Chess is boring because he always wins. Go is boring because he always wins. All games are boring because he cannot lose. There's only one person who's truly been able to best him. But even winning has a kind of charm when against someone with earnest determination.
But more important than that, it gives him something else to consider - ]
Is that person here? Have you managed to win against them yet?
no subject
There's a sort of satisfaction when you win, but it's not the same as having a challenge. The latter is a lot more fun to me. It only drives me to work harder. [The knight clicks against the board; that seems to be the last of Akira's.] But you're right, yes. That person is also here.
[He's here, and yet-
This is one of the most peaceful conversations he's had yet, since arriving in Somnius. No expectations, and no pain except for the reminder of Akechi. He's simply being seen for himself, a player a little too clumsy at the chessboard, and there's something simply refreshing about it.
It's been days, and Akira finally feels like he can breathe.]
He's here, but we haven't had a game yet. There's been... a lot of other things going on that we're working through. [An understatement, but-] I have one against him once, though, when he was least expecting it.
[Akira isn't talking about chess, because he's only gotten close a few times when Akechi didn't count on him pulling certain moves. But Dazai doesn't need to know that.]
no subject
Dazai has never lost this sort of game.
It's brief though, there and gone as quickly as lightning strikes, and one might mistake it for having never been there at all. ]
I've never lost this kind of game. There's only one person who's managed to beat me, and it was at poker. Even then, I was able to best him... If you watch me and listen to me, you'll be able to best them in no time.
[ He doesn't pry into what they might be working through, because if nothing else, Dazai does understand that. It's a sore point that one shouldn't carelessly touch upon. Instead he grins and picks up a piece, waving it a little, ]
When you're playing games like this, you don't need to worry about anything else. In fact, if you're just worried about beating someone, if you're thinking about anything else than you've already lost.
[ There's a grin, a briefly smug look that might give a hint as to just how he won that poker game. ]
no subject
There's only one person that's ever looked at him with such a penetrating gaze. He wonders how much Dazai can see of what's locked up in his heart. Akira didn't mind it back then, and he doesn't mind it now.
It's always a nice thing, to finally be seen.]
Keep your mind clear, play the game for the game itself... [He weighs the piece in one hand, Dazai's grin in the other. It feels telling.] You speak like it's from experience.
[He laughs a little, but it's directed inwards. He can't win if he thinks about Akechi or Dazai or anyone else, huh?
Maybe that's a little familiar, in its own way, but that's too bitter of a thought for such a nice afternoon.]
I should learn from you, then. Should I be calling you "Dazai-senpai" instead?
[It's said a little jokingly, but it's genuine in its way, too. He hasn't called anyone "senpai" since before he got close to Makoto and Haru.]
no subject
That's right! You have to! You're not allowed to call me anything else from now on!
[ It's just a joke, of course; Dazai-kun suits him just fine. He takes a moment to loop back around to Akira's first statement, ]
You're right that I have experience. I've only found one person who could beat me at Poker. It was really annoying to keep losing, you know?
[ Though Dazai has a bright expression, that of someone reminiscing on a particularly pleasant time in life, ]
I was able to beat him in the end by distracting him. I'm the only one who's managed to do that.
no subject
Dazai-senpai it is, then. I'll be off to a bad start if I'm deliberately disobedient from the get-go.
[It's interesting, the way he lingers on this, though. It's a loss, but it's full of fondness, like it's something to look back on and be satisfied with.
To Akira, it's a familiar feeling.]
That example was about you, then. He must've been quite the opponent, to put that sort of look in your eyes. What did he say when you finally won?
no subject
[ And that very response is part of why Dazai had come to care so much. Odasaku was his 1000th time. He was something that he couldn't predict, a person who would say such strange things that he couldn't predict it.
That's why there's just the faintest of fondness here now, too. It's completely different, but it's been a long time since he's had someone who would so earnestly challenge him. If they play a thousand times, then perhaps the next one will be a victory.
Dazai prefers people who think in that way. He believes this is someone who can maintain it is as rare as it is fine.
Dazai-senpai... He doesn't dislike it. ]
... If you play chess with me 1000 times, then you might beat me on the 1000th time. If you do that, hm... What will we do? There have to be some stakes.
11/16 but you can ignore this until you're ready
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.
ok, i'm ready!
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.]
I'M NOT!!!
And the question makes an apologetic frown immediately break out over his face. ]
Oh, no– I didn't realize...
[ Truly, he didn't. He was so focused on being able to do something kind for Akira, he didn't stop for a second to think of how it would feel for someone he doesn't remember to know small, intimate details about his life. Rushing headlong into chaos, as ever...
Maruki rubs at the back of his neck, looks askance. ]
It was in your student file.
[ He's already decided that he won't lie to Akira about anything, won't obfuscate the truth even a bit. It would be too difficult to keep up any masks when Akechi already knows every bitter truth about him, and in some sad way, it's atonement. This Akira deserves better than how he treated his own. ]
We weren't able to celebrate it back in my reality, we were both too busy. I thought it might be a nice bit of normalcy for you here, but I see now how strange it must be. I apologize, Kurusu-kun.
? well get ready!
He can't remember the last time anyone besides his parents knew his birthday. Can't remember the last time anyone did anything special for it, either. He doesn't even know Maruki, not the way that he knows Akira, and yet...
And yet. He still did all of this for him. Still thought of him, still cooked for him, still wanted to do something nice for him - for someone that didn't even know his name til he woke up here.
I haven't earned this, sneaks through his brain like a creeping vine, but he has to push it down right now. Maruki worked too hard for him to squander it.]
You- [No. Too unsteady. Try again. He doesn't like how this keeps happening around Maruki.] You don't have to apologize. It's just a surprise. [Almost unconsciously, his hand goes up to tug at his hair.] I'm sure Kawakami-sensei and the other teachers had access to it to, too, but she never said anything.
[None of them did. Even Kawakami, who he can finally think of as a friend. Maybe their relationship was still too transactional; maybe she felt too much guilt to contact a student, even after everything she had told him, yet still because of it. Only Maruki, the person fate decided he didn't get to have, was the one in that school who cared enough to look and think to do something, too.
It burns even as it soothes.]
If things weren't that different, I'm sure it was a busy time for me. [The phantom guillotine hanging over his head as every day brought them closer to the infiltration, excitement and nausea swirling together in his gut with every breath.] It's alright. We can make up for it now.
[Maruki has nothing to make up for, compared to all the things that Akira can't. But to turn him away for the sake of his guilt would be the worst cruelty of all, so he relaxes in his seat and fiddles with a napkin.]
What are you making?
stop i'm so sad about this
But she didn't do anything for his birthday. None of the teachers did.
He's not surprised. Every reminder of that school leaves a bitter coating over his tongue.
He swallows it down, smiles as turns to put the soup stock on the stove to simmer. ]
Tempura udon. I hope you like it.
[ It isn't worth telling him that it was the last meal they shared together on that final day. Maruki doesn't want to put any more undue weight on this afternoon than he already has.
He glances over his shoulder as he fiddles with the temperature of the stove. ]
I know it hasn't been long, but are you settling in alright? Has anyone given you any trouble? I include Akechi-kun in that!
borthday drop off cw: murder
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 got a cw for his birthday 🥺
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.]
as a treat 👉💥🔫💥👈 cw: violent thoughts <3
[It doesn't get easier. Every interaction is a test of his all too worn patience, every thrown out allusion to a past interaction hardening a resolve encased in the same steel that shot through Akira's goddamn skull.
Akira has his knife. Akechi doesn't need to see it on his person to know that gift was accepted. He's still Joker and-
Akechi has his own weapons and persona at his disposal. A fight isn't on his current agenda, but standing by Akira's side posing as an old friend instead of recent foe is-
Exciting.
Annoying.
Makes him want to puke and throttle every forgotten memory out of his body. Strangled gasps would recall a bathhouse, slamming his head into wall would dislodge forgotten cafe memories. The urge to beat him until everything returns -
Is strong. He waves it off, like an irritating pest flying near his face.]
I won't keep you long. I thought it might be nice - while you may not remember, we did this often and it worked to clear both our heads. You've gone through a lot the past few days, after all.
the gun between the explosionsfdskjfdkjasdjk
It seems- odd for Akechi to put so much emphasis on the time that they've spent together. Calling him friend was one thing, a way to appeal, but this is another entirely. The seed of doubt sprouts in his chest, and its leaves curl over a dulled sense of alarm.
If you didn't meet a whole entire person, what else could've changed?
He's not Maruki's Akira... but he may not be Akechi's, either. The thought has never left him since he arrived, but now it presses in on all sides. He's cornered by it, because it feels so very possible and real.]
Seems like I'm receiving a lot of kind gestures from you, today. [Akira pushes his glasses up before pushing away from the wall, back still just a little bit bowed. Casual. Relaxed. Ways he should always appear to Akechi, regardless of their placement in time.] You said we did this often?
[Remember, his brain whispers, or were the memories never there to forget?]
a fun surprise <3
It should be a comfort that in every plausible reality, every mental manipulation of Kurusu Akira stands with that languid posture. Speaks with the same self-assured confidence that caught Akechi's attention under those blaring studio lights months ago.
He doesn't shy away from the topic, so Akechi meets it. 'You said we did this often'? incites. A prince is forced to act and keeps his expression neutral. Steady. Calm. Calm. 'You said we did this often?' how wonderful it must be for a leader to forget. How pleasant. It's easy - so easy.]
Often may be a stretch, however -
[It's the warmth of bathhouse water lapping at his chest, the dizzying heat, and a conversation that continues despite it. Steam warms his lips until until the easygoing banter between them dies naturally.
It's cafe outing after cafe outing, where they speak and talk and converse without concern of any fan's ire because Akira had done more to speak with Akechi than anyone in his entire life.
It's Akira touching him, unprompted. Unwanted. Impossible to stop and the memory of it -
The thought of it -
The fact only one of them thought it was important enough to keep buried in a heart.
He motions forward with a perpetually gloved hand - a short walk around the property. Privacy guaranteed in the outskirts, darkness from the trees surrounding shade.]
We conversed frequently and met up often. Small walks and outings, mostly. I enjoyed spending time at you home as well - it's quite the comfortable place to be. We played games together too. The last time we met up, you were getting fairly good at billiards.
11/30 [ Servant ＆ Master Link ]
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. ]
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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.]
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There is some added playful giggling there. "Anyway, I didn't tap in to bully you, though on a normal day, BB would... I wanted to have a talk with you about some serious things. Are you all right to chat?" ]
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[A spell, a changed channel - both of those are easier to conceptualize, so he does. It feels less like just... thinking. He can still handle this.]
What was it you wanted to talk about?
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That okay with you? When her powers come back, you'll be the first to know. Seeing as, your seals will come right back to you. Hehe... Do you like the new tattoos?
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If I'm honest, the pain startled me a little. [It's an understatement; nothing had prepared him for it.] But I like them.
[It's... different, seeing himself marked like this. But it's still the truth; it isn't something he hates.]
If you're giving up your powers, won't that put you at risk? Do you have anyone else to watch your back?
🎣 🎣 🎣
Until then, [ this is said with an air of fondness. ] make sure you keep yourself safe - okay~?
fsjkfsjkfsdkjk when i saw the fish i crylaughed
[He's gotten more relaxed incrementally, but the warmth there is still considerably more than what came before.]
If we run across each other when other people are around... If you want to, you can call me Akira, okay?
trying to bait all day a whole lil akira
gotta level up that fisher......
[The tone in his voice is joking, but there's something genuine lying just underneath it.]
Stay safe. Don't get surrounded by those things again and come to harm. You still have a lot to teach me about what all of this means.
[I have a lot more I want to learn about you. Directed away from her. He's getting the hang of this, now.]
When the time comes, I'll see you again.
12/25 gift delivery !!
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.
12/25 gift delivery!!
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... ]
RANK 3 EVENT
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. ]
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"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.
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[ Dazai's face betrays no emotion as he watches the other. He must have some understanding of the gravity of the situation. There's no one here to listen and even if there were, the locals have neither eyes nor ears to offer to them.
Though it might be too extreme to pretend not to know her at all gfiven what a public figure she is, it strikes him as inadvisable to advertise their specific relationship, particularly now when she's devoid of what makes her who she is.
His response is satisfactory. Preturbed, but not panicked nor defensive. He hadn't doubted BB's judgment, but it's encouraging all the same. ]
I'll get straight to the point: I've been collaberating with BB-s an for some time now, and asa person who's antithetical to her existence, I'm more aware of most of what a threat she poses. Due to her nature as an AI, the likelihood of her code breaking down increases with each passing day. I intend to find a way to mitigate the threat that she poses either by repairing her or killing her.
[ Dazai remains calm as he speaks, as though this were as simple as putting sugar in his coffee. There's a slight emphasis on the word killing, because it's nothing more than a filler for various options on how to remove her existence - entrapping, formatting, and so on and so forth; her coming back would be unacceptable. Dazai pops the lid off of the top of his coffee cup, and steam immediately wafts from it. ]
I was hoping you would work on me with that front, or at least prepare for a worst case scenario. Of course, you have no particular reason to. I'm aware that this is sudden.
[ Which is somewhat deliberate. Part of it is the simple fact that there's no sense in putting it off, but he also simply wants to see how the other reacts. He needs a partner in this - not someone to bear the weight, but someone who he can trust to work with him. Having offered his proposal, he takes a sip of his coffee. ]
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No, I don't mind. I'd like to help if I can. I'm not sure if I'm the best equipped for it, since I have about as much technological experience as the average high schooler...
[It aches through him, as it always seems to at the most unexpected of times. If it weren't him that had been chosen... If it was Futaba that was here... Undoubtedly, she would be able to be the support that they need. She would know what to do.
But it isn't her here. It's Akira.]
...but I'm aware our options are limited. If there's anything I can learn that will help, I'll do it.
[He's a fast learner, and he doesn't quit easily. Whatever they need, he'll figure it out and make it happen. There doesn't need to be an unnecessary death if he can prevent it.]
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Even if you were an expert in the field, you would struggle. It is akin to both learning another language and studying an alien biology... But we have people here who can fill in the gaps that you and I leave. But you are willing to act, and that is of far more use.
[ He has no doubt that Akira could learn to code as well, and surely he might try, but it changes nothing if he doesn't. He takes another sip of his coffee, closing his eyes briefly as he considers what it is he wants to say, before opening them once more. ]
You have something like an emergency stop button, or perhaps you could call it a pause button... If you can at least press it, then others will have time to act. And if they're unable to...
[ Dazai takes another slow sip, then sets his cup down. ]
Death is a type of hard reset.
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I'd like to avoid that if we can. Unless there's no other option, of course.
[Dazai has killed. Maybe Akira has too, even though he doesn't know if the one here counts, and outside of here he wasn't the one to pull the trigger. Akira doesn't count it against either of them, even if the Phantom Thieves' motto is that they should never kill.
But it would weigh on him. And he doesn't want a weight on Dazai, even if he isn't sure that he'd notice it.]
That emergency pause button... Does that have something to do with the mark that was put on me?
[He isn't sure, but it's Akira's best guess. Lightly, he taps the back of his hand with the chess piece, even though it's faded away since she gave her powers up.]
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[ Dazai drums his fingers on the table. He can imagine why Akira was chosen, just as he can understand why he himself was tasked with ensuring a favorable outcome.
The thought that the slightest misstep could lead to his own death, too, makes his heart beat a little faster. He's terrifying both for his intellect and his ability, but he's frail; beyond salvation if mortally wounded. It could kill him.
He can't allow it, not yet, but it's a nice idea.
He doesn't feel anything in particular when it comes to the idea of killing the AI, his friend, nor searching for a way to dispose of her in just the right way that she can neither die nor revive.
Some things are better left unsaid. ]
... But, this is only after we've exhausted all other options. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, and I believe that we can stop it from coming to that.
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But it still may not be enough. He's used to certain victories failing terribly after the last hour, so it makes total sense to him to prepare for anything.]
I believe we can, too.
[They have the means to counter the biggest opposition they have, so that's where Akira must put all of his focus.]
What's our best method for strengthening her code?
[It seems like an uphill battle, with no technology here but the flip phones and maybe anything they manage to wish for, but...
Dazai believes there's a way, and Akira trusts him. They can work through this.]
> sometime post-sleepr !!
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?
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[ 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.
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[And he's going to leave it there. He intends to. He should. But the words creep out of him anyway, almost as if he has no control over them.]
...And I'll be disappointed too, if I don't get to share a meal with you every once in a while.
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[ It's a quiet aside, mostly to himself, beneath Akira's words. Nobody needs to know how needy he is.
(Dolph absolutely knows how needy he is. Akira is probably on the way to finding out, too.)
He does smile into his drink at the admission from Akira. It doesn't surprise him that he and Dolph bonded as quickly as they did; even if Dolph didn't know about their connection, he's positive it would have happened anyway. Do they have any idea how similar they are? ]
And before you say anything about having to return the favor, don't. Although– the food you made for your birthday was really good...
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with eren and thorfinn, their motivations and feelings were easier to understand. the rage, the rebellion, the fight. he could read them like the back of his palm. with akira, it was the same and it wasn't. it hit a little too close to his heart. he's not sure what to make of that.
and he's certain it's the same for akira. all dolph has right now is the benefit of hindsight and the time given to him here.
try for me, dolph told him. but what did akira want from him, he wonders. ]
It's just the stuff Jean taught me. He's the better cook, as you know.
But I don't mind. I've come to like it.
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[A smile cast over his shoulder, small but true. Back when Sojiro taught him... Maybe he said things like that, too.]
Next time we get together, you can make it for us. I'd like to try your cooking, too.
[Cooking should be shared, so I'd like to share it with you. That's what he'd said to Izutsumi. That's what he feels here, too.
He isn't good with words, or wanting things for himself - except for the times that emotion gets away from him. But this, here, is something that he can do. He can share the meal that he knows best with the two people who frighten him with how quickly they cause him to spill what's in his heart.
It's a recipe that was taught to him by someone that put love and hope into every plate, and sharing that... Well. It's the least that Akira can do.]
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I agree. I'd like that too.
And then, when it's my turn... could I teach you both how to cook something?
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one only had to look at club quartz for that. a replica of club prism, where he first met alex.
everything is just . . . a copy. a weak attempt to hold onto a person's interest. to be human inside. he looks down at his hands. fake and real, side by side. easy to tell apart when you look at him. so much harder to figure out. ]
If you like. I'm not sure . . . there's anything to get out of it. I'm not even sure that you can.
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Let me ask you something.
[Cumin, cardamom, clove. His hands know what to do, even as his lips move. His head turns completely from the pot.]
Do you like seeing Maruki-sensei smile?
[Simple, but utterly direct. Akira doesn't mention anything about himself, even though Dolph has left him feeling like part of his soul has been scooped out. He knows which of these three he can say, without a doubt, are friends. He doesn't say anything else, either; he waits to see what either of them will say.]
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Maruki's eyes stay trained on Akira's, brows raised, and something very much like pride in his gaze.
Akira has always been good at cutting to the heart of the matter. In another life, they questioned one another about cognitive concepts. In this one–
He turns his head toward Dolph then, props his chin up on one hand. Waits to hear the answer. ]
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Yeah, I do. If you say the magic of my cooking does that, I'm gonna walk straight out.
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Not exactly like that, no.
[Any joking edge to his voice slips away quick enough, turns soft again.]
If there's any magic anywhere, it's the smile itself and how you feel when you see it. [Coriander, black pepper. Has hand passes over the cinnamon and plucks up the nutmeg instead. Not this time.] It doesn't matter if someone else can make the food better. It doesn't matter what you think you can or can't do. There will always be worth in what your hands make.
[Akira gives Dolph a long look, before it breaks into a smile again.
"Is it... important to you?"
"You could said that. There's a customer I'm waiting on."]
Never let anyone steal the joy of putting a smile on the face of someone you like. Not even yourself.
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That's Kurusu Akira. That's his guiding light. To think that he ever thought he couldn't measure up to the boy that Maruki knew...
His eyes shine on Akira's for a long moment before he tips his head to look at Dolph. ]
Do you see why he and I have always gotten along so well?
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his hands, as if one wasn't a weapon. his weakness and his power. a door into his head. his metal hand, stained. the property of a corporation that dictated his life. dictated what his hands are for. if you hated it so much, then just give it back lucy had said derisively. this hand of his had killed her. killed jade. killed alex.
perhaps it's easier to think about stolen joys. all I ever wanted was this he told the illusion of alex on the beach, then you had to go fuck it up. but that hadn't been his fault. it wasn't his fault he had to stop loving alex. it wasn't his fault that he couldn't when it's all he ever wanted to do.
so. where to start with this? he doesn't know. he gets the point of it. dolph is his own enemy. everyone's got their own enemy in them. he saw akira's enemy within him not long ago, when he asked for the promise.
he gives a light huff. ]
Yeah, I see it.
[ with a touch of apologetic contriteness for his words, dolph meets akira's gaze. ]
Sorry. But all that stuff was stolen from me long ago. I couldn't tell you what anything is worth. And I know fuck all about joy.
All I'm doing is making it up as I go along. And hope for the best.
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[He nods at him. There's a quiet approval there.]
It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks something is worth, or what they think of joy. The only one who gets to decide those things for you is yourself. [He's looked away for about as long as he can afford to; he breaks eye contact, hands flying over the pot.] It's alright if you don't know yet, either. Just like with those preparations you mentioned to me... it's not something you have to know right away.
[A home that felt hollow, colorless, then full of betrayal. Tokyo felt like where his life began.
He's almost certain it can't compare to whatever deep wounds Dolph experienced. But maybe he knows the steps that are similar enough to help.]
You're the one that decides those things for yourself. I can't tell you how you should or shouldn't feel about something. But I can tell you what worked for me. [His eyes fall shut for just a moment, several faces flashing in his mind's eye - and then quick enough, he's back to work again.] I did what I think you've already started to do. I found myself surrounded by people that knew love. I let their kindness teach me and help me relearn things I thought I'd forgotten. And slowly, everything else fell into place.
[He became happy. Even in the times that he felt hollow, even in the times he felt grief... They helped him be happy.]
Keep finding your way.
[And then, ever so slightly, his voice shifts into something firmer. Deeper.]
Steal back what was stolen from you. Make this life yours.
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He is in the unenviable position of knowing Dolph's story. Of knowing that there is nothing left for him to steal back.
While Akira speaks, Maruki shifts his chair a bit closer to Dolph's, enough so that he can rest a hand against his back without calling too much attention to it. A calm, warm, anchoring weight.
He's here. ]
cw: brief mention of death
[ his voice sounds so distant from himself. who is even speaking? dolph laserhawk? or captain laserhawk? it probably doesn't even matter. they were both abysmal failures. dolph couldn't even make someone love him. captain laserhawk couldn't even save a single person. ultimately, they are the same in that regard. it doesn't matter which person he wanted to be. there's no going back. there's no turning back the clock.
even now, he could be owned by someone else. all it would take is his weakness to be revealed and whatever person he chooses to be can be erased. a few strokes on the keyboard, an inserted virus and it'll be like he never existed at all. he could stand right there and it'll have as much weight as the air around.
he's standing right here and — it's unbearable. he could flicker out right now and it'll be maruki and akira in the kitchen. cooking. eating. laughing. nothing will be missed. nothing will be noticed. a ghost? laughable. he'd be lucky if he even counted as one.
but akira is still right. so dolph inclines his head towards him. he doesn't bow under the weight of those words. he can suffer that kindness. that hope. it matters. to say it at all still matters. it hasn't fallen on deaf ears. just someone who was never here at all. never meant to be.
( idly, he wonders if holloway wiped the bloody smear on the ground. did he take a pause? did he look upon it and — )
dolph just shakes his head. gives a sharp smile. ]
Can't you tell? My life's overflowing.
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He lets himself think. Lets himself mull over those words and that too sharp smile.
Usually Akira is careful. He's good at reading people, at figuring out what they need. But when he feels too much, he pushes too hard. He knows he certainly did that with Morgana, and probably with Haru, too. Even the mistake that almost cost him his existence didn't train him out of his bad habit of getting lost in the big picture.
He isn't sure if he's done that now. He doesn't know enough of Dolph's story. But what he can do is try to understand.]
Do you think so? [Akira finally turns to look at him again, leans against the counter.] What do you think of your life, right now?
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He doesn't remove his hand from Dolph's back. Just watches, and listens. ]
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Well, no one's tried to kill me. Or enslave me. No betrayal either. So, pretty good I'd say.
[ and it is the truth. life's never been better, here in this bubble reality. like he stepped out of holloway's virtual reality into this one. free from the cycle of betrayal. free from the rage and the sorrow. best life he's ever had.
shame it ended long ago. ]
As good a life as I'll ever get, really.
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Some people... They hate it here. They think of this place as a cage. [Eren. Akira doesn't disagree; too much of him can't stand being backed into a corner to feel complacent. And yet...] But I think even a cage can have miracles inside of it.
[He knows it can. Lived it, back home, and he's watched it happen again now.]
No matter what tomorrow brings, you still have precious things you found here.
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[ his voice is firm on that. any place that locks you in. never offers a choice. never lets you leave. it may be a nicer cage. a favourable one. but dolph knows enough of cages, pleasant and cruel, to feel the bars. even the virtual reality he stepped in . . . that was a cage too.
it was just a cage with . . . alex. the alex he knew. the alex he loved. the alex he always thought existed. the good man. the man who loved him. a fantasy.
but that has often been the case with people loving dolph.
still. he takes some pity on akira now. ]
You're trying to convince of life. Of more. But I know all that. And I know the end. I hold both in equal measure. There's no escape.
Let it go, Akira. You have other people to see to. I'll be here. Until dream's end.
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The "end".
There's only one thing that really can be, can't it.]
Maybe that's true.
[Maybe it is. Maybe Dolph has seen it. Maybe Akira has, too; in one sense for himself, and in the realest sense for someone else.
But Akira exists again. And that person lives and breathes again, too.
He can't talk about it now. Not now, not in front of Maruki, and maybe they're things he shouldn't say to Dolph at all. But it still burns in his chest, that he's here for a reason.]
It doesn't mean I won't see to you, too. [His fingers finally move; one of them, just the index, with the slowest rhythm.] I'll wait with you, even if it's only to the end of the dream.
[He's here in this place for a reason, but it doesn't have to be for the reason he was called here.
There is someone he will save. And if he can overturn that fate...
Maybe he'll fail. But it doesn't mean he won't fight, even if it tears his soul in two. And it doesn't mean he can't try for Dolph, too.]
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when the dream ends, maruki will claw them out. akechi and akira. maybe eren too. he doesn't know if they ever discussed it. they probably have.
but. not dolph. he'll be here. he has nowhere left to go.
still. it is a promise. an oath. dolph has made the same for people here. and he meant them. he always had. so he understands this too. it's strange, seeing the similarities. like a ghostly imprint. like the person he —
never mind that. ]
It's a long time away, I'm sure.
[ he smiles, reaching out to grasp his shoulder lightly. ]
Enjoy the dream for now.
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And yet Akira doesn't move. Doesn't fight it. Doesn't even flinch.
It's Dolph.
And Maruki is near.
And he's okay.]
I should hope so. [He doesn't smile, but there's something terribly soft in his eyes when he says it.] I have a lot more to cook for you than this.
[Long enough to learn and understand. Long enough to plan and fight.
Maybe that's what Akira would wish for, now.]
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he huffs finally. ]
Why not? Saves me the trouble.
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Good. I'll have a long list ready for you.
[More and more, til he runs out of ideas - and even then, Akira will find a way to keep going.]
wrapppp?
Then just call me over. Whenever.
un: idoctor
un; personyaa
Yes, I'm Kurusu. It's nice to meet you, Takahashi-sensei. What can I do for you?
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So! I'm recruiting humans to help me test them.
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I think I can probably help you with that. I participated in a clinical trial for a doctor back home, so it's something I have experience with.
By any chance, do you know if any of these medicines have energy boosting qualities?
[if his heart ends up giving out from this or whatever he's getting something out of it]
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And I've already found a number of stimulants offered, yes!
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I think my only requests would be starting with those stimulants and asking a few more questions first. Otherwise I'm happy to assist you.
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Can I ask what field of medicine you work with?
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But I study pediatrics, gynaecology, surgery, ophthalmology, neurology, hematology, oncology...I'm sure you get the picture!
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[Maybe he's the real deal... Maybe he's overthinking Akechi's recommendation after all...]
Was there anything in particular that made you want to become a doctor, or was it just something that you sort of fell into?
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How long has it been since you became a doctor?
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Sensei, are you a ghost by any chance?
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Alive and well as far as I'm aware!
I did say I was looking for humans to help test, you know?
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wait
[He's so distracted that he forgets to type properly.]
You're a real youkai? Like from all the stories?
[Akira has managed to:
1. not ask if Takahashi is covered in eyes
2. not ask if Takahashi has long arms
3. not grab a kettle of water to go down the hall and upend it all over Akechi for throwing him into this conversation completely unprepared
-and so, he thinks he's handling this rather well.]
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I'm not the only youkai where I come from either, though to my knowledge I am the only one here for the time being.
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[He doesn't think he's texting a Persona, but hey. He lives redacted city blocks from a ton of goblins. Anything's possible.]
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No? I don't think so?
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[He gently checks a "maybe amnesia" box in his mind.]
Is this why you're interested in studying humans, or is that just a bonus from the job?
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I don't get many opportunities to test humans back home either, so I'd consider that a bonus!
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Would I be right to assume you mostly worked with youkai up til now? I'd imagine they have a pretty big range of physiologies.
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You'd be right again. I've worked with mamalian bodies, reptilian, avian, arthropodal, botanical, fungal, wooden, paper...
Any kind of youkai you can imagine, chances are they've been my patients at least once or twice. I do like to keep myself busy!
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[Was he performing surgeries on chouchin obake...? He's startled, just a dash alarmed, but something worse is happening - he's becoming fascinated.]
Will I be the first human you've ever examined?
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[ Backspace....... ]
But my previous human patients were all for more incidental examinations than anything. I still have a lot to learn about them!
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Naturally, this means that he sends:]
Well, in that case, hopefully my body can serve as a good springboard for furthering your learning.
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But don't worry, I'll be as gentle with you as the medicine allows.
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My body's used to some strong medicines from undergoing medicine trials back home, but there's no telling what effect some of the local medicines will have on me.
hehehehhruerue
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.
sighs deeply
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
But Akechi is patient - far more than the leader of the Phantom Thieves. There's years of proof behind it. Only months under Joker's heel.
And he is patient
So patient.
And he has always been perceived as preySo he watches a predator tread the earth around him, looking for an opening, a way to trap and-
It doesn't matter when a web has weaved around Joker's body from the moment they met. Little strands, small loops - Akira's bonds are his weakness. The way he looks at Akechi is a weakness. The shared wish to fight, to meet sooner, to remain allies-Akechi can throw it away. Akira can't. Won't. The festering wound covers Akira in the form of every single person he's ever known. It makes him exploitable. Easy to ruin -
So why isn't he ruined?
Akechi doesn't take a single step forward to attack. No persona manifests. The waves of brilliant blue lap around his ankles.]
It's obvious, isn't it?
[He won't attack, but he'll warn. He won't start - will only raise a hand with a blade that's seen as much battle as the weapons he used in the Metaverse. They're close - so close. Akechi could take two, three, four steps and slide a dirty blade into flesh that should be marred beyond recognition.]
There's a theory - thesis, antithesis. I told you they can't exist without the other - that for one form to occur, the other must be in its shadow, but this isn't because they're opposites. Far from it, rather.
It's because the failure of one requires the other to exist. The weakness of one mandates the other appear. They can't exist alone because their flaws are too grand. Isn't that funny?
Or some scholars believe - who can truly say. My point is it's poetic in a way, don't you think? The scum of society must have a reflection. A pristine image must have a shadow.
[A prince and a thief.]
Whether it's fate or will - it'll always end up the same way. So I'll tell you this, Joker -
[Blade back to side, fingers pressed to forehead.]
No matter how many times you come back, I won't stop.
stares up at it til i go blind
Akechi won't be goaded to steal first move. Not by anything that Akira's actually willing to do. He knows this, as he knows he must be the one to strike first. He keeps circling. It would be smarter to strike from the back, the sides - but he won't do that, either.
It's not how he does things. Not how they do things.
Because they both know what this fight is for. They have no need to hide themselves behind anything anymore.]
I wouldn't have it any other way.
[He comes to a stop at the front of him. He has a basic guesstimation of what Akechi might use without his Personas now, but there was never anywhere else he'd come at him from.]
Because this is what we're meant for.
[This what I've waited for.
And I'll never lose it again.]
I'll never be weaker than when I stand before you.
[Together, they will fight.
Together, they will live and breathe. They will laugh and their mouths may meet.
And I'll never be stronger anywhere else.
[At once, his gifted dagger is in his hand. He spins it only once.
His world narrows down to Akechi Goro, thoughts shutting down as others work faster than ever before. Hi feet launch him forward, heavier than the Metaverse but still true, and his blade is up and catching the light.
rolled d17
They're inherently inequal. The power of an unchecked god lies within that man's soul. Eden thrives under him, souls and lives held in the palm of his hand.
Akira moving forward with a blade in hand, eyes on him, only on him, staring down Akechi Goro in the dwindling sunlight is invigorating in the same way. It feels like winning before their bodies even clash.The only time Akechi has felled him is with his own two hands, with surprise assaults.
And it's different with Kurusu.
They're inherently equal. Always toeing the line - Akechi's more experienced, stronger, faster.
Akira's adaptable, unpredictable and wild.
A chill crawls up his spine, hackles raise, heart beating fast because this is all he wanted, this is what he craved, this was his only regret in that disgusting cellar that holds the corpse of someone. Akechi killed Akira with his own hand - a smoking gun with an all too light trigger under his finger.
He wanted more.
He wanted this.
He wants to be
No persona. Doesn't matter. Akechi guards with a vile laugh, streaks of vivid blue crawling up his body - he could summon Robin Hood here. Akira knows. He could summon Loki here. Akira knows.
He doesn't. He makes an attempt to parry Akira's dagger and if successful, makes a downward swipe with his own towards his shoulder - Robin Hood at the cusp of his heart, ready to attack, ready to be summoned, resting on the tip of his tongue.] Don't tell me you made me wait all this time just to swipe at me with a pathetic little knife? Stop screwing around and show me that power you've been graced with. Take this opportunity to show off, Joker.
cw: blood, violence, stabbing; smacks ur face with a d1 til it does something
Blades catch and sing against one another, a symphony that his brain remembers the dance steps to.
Blue flickers at his feet, flame ready to take, a soul remembering how to rebel.
It doesn't matter how much time passes between summoning his Persona, or how long it's been since he clashed with Akechi Goro completely unrestrained.
It doesn't matter if the playing field is different. It doesn't matter if they're different, because one thing will always remain the same. Kurusu Akira will always, always
Ghk-!
[The flame at his feet cuts off, and red paints the ground at their feet.
His hand goes up to staunch the blood rushing from the wound, but Akira knows it's deep. It burns as he holds it. It's my right side, too. Goddamn it.
He has to hurry, now. Akira has no way to heal, and that means he's on a time limit. Beneath his fingers, he can feel his life beating away.
He should be worried - and he is. He should feel his veins fill with adrenaline, fear, animal instinct - and they do.
But it's everything that he wants, and that's why he can grin, wild and manic and without a single chain holding him down. The one that stands before Akechi Goro is Joker.]
If you wanted to lose so quick, Crow- [The grin doesn't falter. The blue resparks and swirls.] -all you had to do was ask me nicely.
[A god has wiped him out of people's minds before. He's had to make a victory out of a complete and total defeat. Akira has made something out of nothing.
He won't lose now, even if he has to drag his body mangled and bleeding across the ground to land the final blow.]
Come, Arséne!
[And there, at his back, he's here.
His soul is here, a laugh echoing whispers of dragging the enemy down to their demise. Akira hasn't been parted from him as long as he was before, but it still feels like a puzzle piece clicking back into place. And just in time, because they have no choice but to give it their all if they're going to survive.
The timer starts now.]
cw: blanket its a fight thread so fight things happening roll
This is his Kurusu Akira - the one who ignites with the same fierce determination in the midst of challenge. The one that exists in his peripheral vision, in all parts of life, beyond death. Kurusu Akira is here and he's the one that makes the first brutal clash.
And it's Kurusu Akira who bleeds. It's Kurusu Akira that reels from the vicious attack that paints everything, drowns everything, leaves pinprick splatters on his shirt. It's Kurusu Akira that mirrors the same manic glee Akechi can feel pulling at the edge of his lips, every word tugging, teasing, shredding the veneer of perfection between them.
Akechi Goro was meant to be perfect. Born to be perfect. Tore himself free of rot to be perfect and-
Akechi Kurusu was meant to be perfect. Born to be great. Tore himself from the chains that bound him down. Didn't. Wasn't. Stands tall - reckless, wild, and-
And Akechi Goro is a reflection of it. Akechi Goro is free with the flowing red taking over Akira's body, Akechi's own vision. In a mark left by him, one that will remain, one he'll rip open again and again as a reminder of the vast difference between them that exists - a gap formed from Akira's mercy and Akechi's cruelty.
Arséne
Robin Hood
Loki
The Akechi Goro he wants this Kurusu Akira to see. The only match for Arséne. The only clash of will that matters.]
Manifest, Loki!
[He's free. Completely free. A heart running wild, beating beating beating. A heart unchained, unbound and all he can think about-
Is ripping the carbon copy in front of him to shreds. Tearing his skin with clawed armor Akechi no longer has access too, but the knife clutched in his grip will do. And he's sure Akira will smile. He thinks Akira will smile. Akechi doesn't give a shit if Akira smiles - hopes he can see it twist with every slice of his blade, watch joy turn to agony, know that Maruki will have to pick up the pieces of Kurusu Akira in this fucking field.
Attack Master ignites his heart. Body poised to lurch forward at the smallest opening-
At any opening-
Now with a too light push against the ground, with his blade tossed between his hands, from right to left, and ready to arc down on an already gaping wound. Laevateinn as the follow up, whether Akira dodges or not.]
You won't survive this time - I'll make sure of it. With my own two hands, I'll crush you until there's nothing left! I'll massacre you!
these are gonna help Future Yama when she has to bank a single proof for three lines of cws (d19 <3)
Before, he did this, too. Going in to crush when defenses were low, when guards weren't up. Akira recognizes it. He knows he has to dodge correctly, or his life will be forfeit.
His heart beats against his chest, at his pulse points, where he holds his own blood back from flowing. His breath is both quiet and loud, distracting and centering. Focus. Focus.
He waits, waits, waits. Waits right up until the moment the blows will be struck. The blades come down, Laevateinn tears at the earth, and Akira is
Christ, it's so much harder to jump like this with the normal rules of gravity. He can feel the pull, the strain, the ache where he's injured and even where he is not.
Akira lands, eyeballing the shattered earth that now lies between them.
He makes two decisions in rapid succession. The first - he must bind the wound on his shoulder. He can't fight at full capacity if he holds it down the entire time. He tears part of his sleeve apart, starts talking to occupy Akechi while he tries to make quick work of it all.]
Looks like you missed a little bit. [His tone could almost be bored, if it weren't for the clear hunger and excitement hanging beneath it all.] But that's alright. I'll give you another shot soon.
[Goading, because he has to, because Akechi won't be stalled by idle small talk - and because he wants to. He loves talking to Akechi like this. He loves seeing Akechi like this. He loves being this way, both of them, completely unrestrained.
Unrestrained, so he lets it slip out, too.]
I like seeing you this way. Wild and free. Nothing holding you back, the way it should be. [A firm tie.] This is the way you're meant to be when you're across from me like this. [A secure knot.] So don't leave me disappointed!
[His body goes low to the ground, dagger flashing behind his back. Ready to kick off, as Arséne winds up.
His second decision.
He's already hurt, clock already ticking - so hurting himself more is a worthy trade. A One-shot Kill will even the playing field, unless Akechi is quick enough to dodge it.]
listen sometimes the (cws) are the (friends) we made along the way. d3 lol
[A gunshot rings in the back of his mind, his final memory of Joker-
And in this moment-Not silent and still in the empty room - Akechi almost wonders how he fell for that shit in the first place.
It's the one that stood tall in the midst of a world meant for the two of them alone. Gravestones with no names as a backdrop, a distorted disgusting world manifesting from the rot in both of their hearts.
To be free.
Akira no longer surrounded by his gaggle of simpering idiots. Joker no longer backed up by a group he doesn't need. Akechi toys with the thought of asking him, once more, to abandon his little group - trap him in a contract forged from a violent clash.
Doesn't. Because he couldn't stand if Kurusu Akira said yes.
The words reach Akechi as he's preparing to attack - as he keeps the dagger pointed forward, eyes boring into Joker and only Joker because it's only ever Joker that speaks in a way that makes his heart burst with the same undeniable frenzied joy that spawned Call of Chaos into existence.
'I like seeing you this way.'
'So don't leave me disappointed!'
What do you know? You who forgot everything! You don't know me - stop acting like it! [And Akechi knows Kurusu. Akechi knows Akira. Akechi knows Joker. Akechi knows everything.] You always do this shit - you try to act like you know everyone- [And he does. And he does. And he does.] Try to get everyone on your side. Try to be something more than that disgusting attic trash you are - I'm not fooled. Not for a moment. Look at you, Kurusu Akira. You're nothing. You're worthless!It takes a moment for Akechi to realize those own words didn't leave his lips. That it was Kurusu Akira talking and Akechi Goro listening. His lips feel dry anyway.]
[He's rotten. Rottenrottenrotten and Akechi-
Wants to see more.
A calculated error occurs when he does - maybe not one at all. He doesn't give a shit if he's hit. Doesn't care as long as his eyes stay fixated and set on the man in front of him. One Shot Kill hits. Strikes him. A piercing light crushing his chest in a single blow - something cracks and breaks because of it. A rib, maybe two. The Metaverse isn't here to buffer their blows and-
It hurts and he's happy. It hurts and he wants to see more. He can't breathe and he thrives. He can't breathe, so he charges forward with blade ready, Riot Gun to stun or block his companion in.]
So die, die, die, die, die, DIE ALREADY!
when nobody else got us, the cws got us (d17)
He watches Akechi, and Akira smiles, fragile and fleeting.]
You're right.
[It's a smile that's terribly sad. If Akechi focused enough to look, perhaps he'd see how mournful it is.]
I have been worthless.
[Basking in the warmth of his friends. Smiling and laughing over the hole in his heart.]
If you'd seen me, living my life the days before I got here - I think you'd see it. I think you'd know. You've always been able to see right through me, so you'd see the emptiness I covered with so many masks.
[Akechi is charging, furious as a predator defending itself from harm. Full of defensive vitriol, and Akira doesn't intend to rise to the bait, just as he didn't before.
Except that...]
I've been worthless without you, because no one will ever know me the way you do. Just as I'll know you better than anyone else. Because Kurusu Akira and Akechi Goro will be like this, in every life we ever live. [He's close now. Almost close enough. Akira's entire body tenses, and for the first time - something close to anger twists his face.] I forgot? I'm putting an act? You're smarter than that, so act like it. If you're going to be on the other side of an argument with me, do it with something that isn't complete and total bullshit!
[The moment Akechi's close enough, Akira slips to the side and kicks him where he's injured, hard. He lets the momentum push him back and away; even if he doesn't go down, Akechi should at least be off balance for a few seconds.]
The other Akira knew you better. I envy him for a lot, but that's one of the greatest things of all. [His voice is calm again. Placid.] But you still fight the same way. You're reckless with your body when you're injured.
[He waits this time, to see what Akechi does. If Akira lets him... will he just tear himself apart?]
OHHHHHHHH THE D2 OF IT ALL cw: continued 4ever
I envy him
So worthless.
You're right.
EmptinessHe's right. Always right. Akira's right.
What does he know? How can he know? How could he think he knows and-
noonenoenenoonenoone because he's special Akechi is special he's a mirror to a boy with an unbound heart and no one knows and no one will ever know and-
In every life we live
Akechi will be there. Akechi will kill him. Akechi will kill him.
The ground bleeds when his body slams into it. Akira's strong. This one is strong. His Akira will always be strong and in any reality where they interact they will always be strong. They've fought one on one - Akechi knows better than to underestimate him. Didn't. May have. No longer does now that a wild, vibrant man consumes his vision.
and total bullshit]
He's up in a second - moves a step back after two. Loki appears with a laevateinn, but not even the smack of that violent blade can muffle the laughter from Akechi's lips.
Of course it's Akira. Of course it's Akira. Of course Akira would say that. Of course. Of course. Of course.
And he'll rip himself apart to prove that undying, otherworldly bond.
And he'll move forward to attack behind Loki's blade with his own risen high as if he's one using laevateinn in its stead.
In that moment, I am thou, thou art I doesn't feel like it belongs to Loki.
It's with Akira. It's between them. Those wild dark eyes are a mirror he wants to shatter. An image he wants to rip. They're the same, so he hates him. They're the same, so he'll understand why Akechi will never stop. He'll destroy that air of calm. He'll free Akira from that mask. He wants to see-
Something that isn't complete
[Call of chaos consumes. Devours. And he wants to consume and devour and he sees Akira before him and thinks nothing about making him easy prey.]
But I'm happy to oblige - I'll rip your body apart until there are no masks left! Allow me to do the dirty work and your corpse will be payment for it!
d**20**???????????? i can't believe akechi goro is freakin dead in february
and he knows
Akira looks
and he knows
He's seen this happen before. He knows what it looks like, when that look is in Akechi's eyes.
It's what he looked like in the belly of a ship that had its course charted to hell, full of life before he had none left.
Akira doesn't run this time. Won't. Can't. He charges straight forward, into the rampage heading his way.
Because I've already decided...]
If you're going to rip me apart, til there are no masks left- then so be it.
[He forces his body to roll one last time, past Loki, Arséne hot on his heels-
Weaponsn are parried. It hurts. It burns. It bleeds, even through that makeshift bandage. But Akira doesn't back down, and neither does Arséne.]
You're the only one I can let do that.
[They can't hold this forever, not against the might of both Akechi and Loki, but if Akira can buy just enough time...]
But there's still one thing I can't allow.
[I've already decided the reason I was able to wake up here, and nothing anyone in this reality says will ever change it.]
I can't afford to be killed by you yet. [A smile dropped, a voice as serious as a blade.] And I won't let you be killed, either.
[Akira still has the most important thing left to do. He will not die here.]
...Arséne.
[It's a risk - but nothing that Akira does in a fight is without it. He'll only have mere moments.
Arséne shoves away from Loki, even though it leaves Akira's back exposed. It would only take seconds for Akechi or Persona to tear Akira apart.
But that's the bait he's counting on.]
You won't get away from this, Akechi.
[At Arséne's hands, Riot Gun will form, and hit everything in a cone before him.
The recoil of a Gun attack will incapacitate Akira almost completely.
And unless he thinks of something... Akechi should finally fall.]
D3 stands for D(3)AD cw: gun!
And of course he'll walk through those doors and of course he'll walk along the velvetine carpet and of course he'll look into the eyes of an executioner hiding among lambs and of course he'll lean into the noose and of course-
It rings and rings and rings and beckons and makes him feel something, makes him feel anything, creates a hellfire that explodes through body and mind. He wants more. He wants more.
And even as he watches Akira falter and hopes for his fall because he should fall and Akechi wants to drag him down, all the way down, completely and utterly coated in muck and grime until there's nothing left of Kurusu Akira and there's nothing left of Akechi Goro and there's nothing left for the world to take from either of them.
Splintered bone scrapes the inside of his chest when he forces himself back up and-
He can only get an inch, two, three off the ground before his lungs constrict and he gets another inch, two, three off the ground before his skull splits, it must be splitting, it's never felt this agonizing and his own hollow laughter continues through the blood coated spittle covering his lips.
He watches Akira and Akira isn't collapsed on the ground so Akechi must get up.
It feels like
joy.
It feels likejoy.
He thinks he feels joy.And he chases that high by pushing up, up, up and getting nowhere. He can't get up. His back hits the ground instead of his chest and he can't get up. ]
You really are remarkable. After all this time, I still can't win. Even so-
[ It hurts to speak, so he continues. It's not death. He won't die. Kurusu said as much and that thrill of being alive is foreign. He's grasping at it with every exhausted, wheezing breath. ]
It's never been in my nature to give up. Against you of all people - no, I will never stop!
[ And from the ground, Akechi pulls a gun from his hip. A gift. More fitting than ever. A guiding light in his increasingly desperate attempt to stay focused. His aim is lacking, but all he needs to do is hit a body. It will hurt.
Akira will feel alive.
Among the wolves.
And Akira will hurt.
Akechi wants him to hurt. ]
Why can't you just stay dead!!
[ And he shoots. ]
2/14 Valentine Delivery
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. ]
2/15 text; un:senpai
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. ]
un; personyaa
[Crazy how he's lying about this particular part in front of Hakuno and God, but hey! What else is new.]
It wasn't your chocolate, this is happening to a lot of people right now. It was really good. It's not your fault.
no subject
Is that so? That's a relief.
It just happened after I gave chocolate to everybody, and everybody I know so far is coughing out flowers.
(っ◞‸◟ c)
You have to be careful when you meet with people. Spring is coming soon, but that is when all of the illness comes out too.
no subject
That's true about spring, though. There are all sorts of allergies and sicknesses people have to contend with normally, and this is a foreign environment for so many of us. At this rate, springtime may be an even bigger challenge than usual.
[Could it be from the non-natives being visitors to this reality...? He'll have to do some investigating when he has a little more strength and find out if the locals are also being affected by this.]
no subject
Maybe we should be looking into vaccines and investing in gas masks.
[ Calm down Hakuno Kishinami. ]
Do you think there's stylish gas masks out there?
no subject
Even if there's not, though, there's probably nothing stopping you from wishing for a gas mask at the crystal. If it goes well, it might even be a stylish one.
no subject
Who knows when this place become Resident Ev*l.
the day after the curry contest
So??
What did you think???
[ Hope Akira didn't leave his mind reading device at home today. ]
this is pure serotonin to me
Your curry, right? I tried it.
I think it's amazing. My mind has been clear ever since the first spoonful.
concentrated seratonin
[ 𝅘𝅥𝅮🎜𝅘𝅥𝅮
> Dazai is excited. ]
Do you think it should be spicier? Odasaku seemed to like it, but others said it could be spicier.
I'll make the hot pot mild though.
no subject
But I'm also used to matching for other people's tastes when I make it. If Odasaku-san liked it, then it's just right for him. I liked just the way it was, but I wouldn't mind trying it hotter or milder. The others you talked to might just prefer spicier foods.
[His fingers flex, the muscle memory of reaching between the mild and spicy batches on the stove. Every once in a while, he'll miss Leblanc like this.]
I'm looking forward to see what you do with the hot pot, though. You did an amazing job with this.
do we wanna do a lil wrap on this??
You're right. Odasaku seemed to like it, so that's good enough for me. I thought it was fine as it was.
Likewise. I want to see what you can do when that talent of yours is really put to the test. I promise you won't be disappointed by mine.
we can wrap it on this one or ur next! :3
For now, I'll be throwing everything I have at you. It shouldn't have any special stamina properties, but I'll be working hard on it so it suits your taste.
[It's not clear now... but this has a double meaning, one that Dazai will get to see soon enough for himself.
So long as Akira survives what's in store for him later today, that is.]
As soon as we can get together for it, we'll enjoy ourselves to the fullest.
text / idk her un yet don't judge meeee
Do you have a moment to talk?
covers my eyes up
What's up? Do you want me to come over in person?
kisses them
Right now my space is a bit too small to host anyone, I think.
[ Akira in such an enclosed space with her might cause her self-implode... ]
!!! nice 2 me...
[It shouldn't poke at the back of his brain to live apart from her - after all, the only friends that lived near him in Tokyo were Morgana and Futaba, and only one of them shared a roof with him. But in this reality, where anything could happen...
He still worries.]
no subject
[ She does miss having a bigger space, but she can manage. ]
I suppose it's like dorm living! I've heard some students at school say their dorms are quite small, but they seem to have a lot of fun with it anyway.
invitation - no need to respond!
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! ]
un: idoctor
un; personyaa
I've been able to walk around without any dizziness for an hour or two, so I think so. Should I be looking out for any other symptoms?
no subject
Although if you become dizzy again it may be easier for us to be in the same vicinity. Are you free at the moment?
> april event !!
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. ]
closes my eyes so i can't see this
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...?
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Rumi.
[ Barely even a whisper, at first, then louder for Akira to hear. ]
That's Rumi. My... [ No, not his. The way she's looking at him, she can't be his.
That recognition in her eyes isn't the bright light it ought to be. It's fire – anger so intense it approaches loathing.
Maruki's throat is too dry to swallow. He pushes his chair back as he stands, but he still can't look away from her. ]
Something's not right.
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[He looks again, several things dawning on him at once.
He doesn't know if Rumi is alive or not. Maruki spoke about her like she wasn't. They both already know that doesn't mean anything in this world, however.
It doesn't matter. The look on her face - it isn't what Akira thought it was before. They shouldn't stay here.]
We should still go. [There's only the briefest moment of hesitation before Akira reaches out and firmly tugs on his wrist.] If there's something wrong, let's not wait to find out what. [There's a little bit of distance, between her and the exit. If they walk fast enough they might be able to make it out. Especially if Akira puts himself between them.] Come with me?
[The "please" is unspoken, but it's there nonetheless.]
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This reality has made him stronger in many ways, and weak in several more. He no longer has to deal with things alone, so he no longer wants to. It's selfish, disgustingly so, but he doesn't want to face whatever this is on his own. He wants Akira at his side, no matter how terrible it is.
He tears his eyes away from Rumi, finally. Doesn't pull his wrist away from Akira's grasp.
As they head for the exit, he says it quietly, definitively: ]
It's not her. There's nothing that she would wish for.
[ Rumi wants for nothing. He made sure of that. A regret he would repeat again and again, in every lifetime, and one that would bar her from ever being able to meet the conditions of a reality like this. ]
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Are you absolutely sure? There could be things she wanted but never talked about.
[Everyone has something they wish for, don't they?]
A Rumi-san from a time the two of you weren't together, or a Rumi-san that's- not the one you think she is, like I was.
[Even if the reminder makes him stumble over his own words, his feet are sure as they carry him forward. He's walking fast, making sure Maruki is on the side that would've been opposite from her. From the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees a shock of red rapidly moving in their direction. Relentless, it seems. They'll have to hurry.]
It could be something like that, couldn't it?
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For a moment, Maruki's mask slips. He glances sidelong at Akira, horror scrawled openly across his features at the mere idea. For all he knows about the nature of reality, all he's experienced of so many versions of himself, and all the time he's put into thinking about the many varied realities out there, he has never once considered that there could be one where Rumi isn't who he knows her to be. If they exist in the same reality, then she is his most phenomenal love and his greatest regret; there are no other options.
Luckily, before he can respond to that terrible hypothetical, he hears enough to be sure of his answer.
It's her voice– but it's not, there's a twist to the ends of her words that was never there before. The light that used to spark brightly enough to burn when she got too heated is absent – now, when ugly, biting words spill forth, they sound black as tar. Rumi could get angry, could defiantly speak her mind, but she never sounded hateful.
Maybe Maruki deserves that. But it's not her.
He doesn't look as she approaches, that torrent of blame growing louder and louder. Ruined our life and only thinking of yourself and easy way out and impossible, stupid dream collide together between his ears as he keeps his eyes locked on Akira's. His words remain just as decisive and sharp. ]
Something similar happened to Adachi-kun the other day. I should have known better than to– [ Louder, closer still. Maruki grits his teeth, squeezes his eyes shut for a second. ] It doesn't matter. She's a cognition. You're familiar, right?
[ There's almost some desperation in that question, and when Maruki opens his eyes again, he finally turns to face her.
It hurts, more than anything, to see recognition in Rumi's eyes once more, and to see it turn to spite.
What happened at the machiya can't happen here. That drawn out argument, that slow turn to violence that escalated rapidly. He can't bear to try to drive her away with his words or to fight her for more than a minute. A quick cut might be a deep one, but at least it's not torture.
It doesn't matter that they're right out in the streets of Stellari. Maruki's long stopped caring what anyone thinks of him, native inhabitants and dreamers alike. Protecting himself and the people he cares for is what's important, and the only thing that would be worse than fighting Rumi himself would be seeing her attack Akira instead.
The aurora ripples through the sky, makes his stomach turn at its familiarity as Azathoth appears. ]
I'm sorry you got dragged into this.
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She's so- angry, and maybe that makes sense for the two of them that had some nebulous thing happen between them, but it's still a shock. This was the person that Maruki spoke of so fondly and affectionately... but she hates him?
Akira had thought she had lost her life, to disease or to accident. But maybe this was more painful for Maruki to face than her death.
There's not enough time, and she jumps from one phrase to the next, acidic and fierce. Akira tries to catch each thing and make it out, more reflexive than anything; it's part of his nature, to absorb every piece of information that's laid before him. Ruined our life - what did Maruki do? What could he have done that she resented so much? Only thinking of yourself - Akira's never seen him think of himself at all. Does he try so hard now, because of something that happened in his past? Stupid dream - is it cognitive psience? Did his research drive a wedge between them?
It doesn't make sense.
It doesn't add up.
There is no time for it to make sense, because Maruki is acting.
And Akira is too, suddenly enough - She's a cognition. You're familiar, right? - his hand is reaching out for Maruki's arm without a conscious thought.]
Don't.
[For the first time in Maruki's presence... he almost sounds angry.]
Even if she's a cognition... you love her. [Love, not loved. Akira knows he still does. He said it himself, that he thinks about her every day.] She isn't real, but you are. Is that really something your heart can bear?
this sucks this sucks please feel free to skip ahead this SUCKS
He doesn't need any sort of special ability to be able to see into a future where Akira takes it upon himself to dispel this product of Maruki's distorted heart and manipulated cognition for him – and it's a future that's rapidly closing in. There isn't time to argue, to justify–
There isn't time. ]
My heart has had to bear worse.
[ In every life, he will love her and lose her, again
and again.
There's no other ending to their story. A tale as old as time: A woman, a man who loves her and who destroys her for it. It's an old song, but it's one that must be sung.
Maruki keeps his eyes trained on Akira. That's what Akira can do for him, here and now. Hold his gaze, don't let him look as bright lights coalesce above them to make quick work of a body without a soul.
That's one thing the doppelganger gets right, though. The scream as she falls – it's plucked right from his memories on a frigid night out in the countryside. It's almost enough to make him doubt his instincts.
Almost.
Maruki doesn't look. Doesn't need to. The people bustling around them on the street are panicked enough about another one of those creatures appearing in their midst that he knows it's the truth. A body that vaporizes, disappears into mist when the one it wanted to feast on isn't looking at it.
Azathoth falls silent again at the base of his skull, only that goddamn aurora left coloring the air around them, and Maruki's stomach lurches so violently that his vision swims.
This is–
Bad. It's bad. Home is too far, he won't make it there. And as much as he loves Akira, the safehouse in Stellari is one of the infinitesimally few things he cannot share with him. They're in the city center, not too far at all from– ]
Kurusu.
[ His voice isn't so much soft as it is broken open, a raw and bleeding thing. ]
Come with me to my office. Please.
[ Don't leave me. ]
? anyway
His hand is outstretched, but it's already too late.
The blue flame that had begun to stir around his legs sparks and gutters like a dying candle. The body is already gone. Vanished, right into thin air; she wasn't real, just like Maruki said.
I couldn't...
Akira can't fix every problem and every pain. He'd thought he'd known that when he started inflicting Changes of Heart - he hadn't, but he learned. He couldn't, and it was alright that he couldn't, because sometimes people have to find the right way without someone else solving their problems.
He knows that all too well, now.
And yet, his chest still aches with his own ineptitude.
I swore I would protect you, but...
...during such a great moment of pain, Akira still couldn't do anything at all.
The aurora ripples in the air, and Akira's hands curl into fists. Around them, people haven't ceased their panic, but there's none of that on Akira's face. No panic, and no fear, because he knows Azathoth will never deliver unforgiveable harm to him. There's only the sting and strain of his own powerlessness.
Whatever eats at Maruki's heart... if Akira can still find a way to carry him through this, maybe he can deliver him to someone else that can kill off whatever it is.
For now, he'll do the only thing that's left to him.
Please.]
...Alright.
[He's silent for the duration of the walk. He stays near Maruki for the entirety of it, watchful of the way he's moving and taking stock of his condition - but he never quite meets his eyes.
His own feel too heavy.
Excepting the time that Maruki first showed it to him, Akira hasn't been by that much. There's still something about climbing the steps that unwinds something tight in his shoulders, even if he doesn't relax all the way. Perhaps it's simply a place that Akira's brain associates with safety, even if the danger is only coming from within himself.]
...Sit, and I'll get some water for you.
[His voice is quiet but unreadable. It isn't Akira's office to offer such, but he's already moving deeper inside to do so.]
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It's the same with this office. It helps that it isn't open to the public, so it's not inextricably linked with long days spent listening to the tragedies of a hundred realities he'll never be able to save – more than anything else, it's where he comes when he needs to be alone.
They're safe here. He's sure of it.
It's one of the few things he's sure of at the moment.
Maruki locks the door behind him and crosses to one of the sofas immediately, sitting just as Akira tells him to. He's being a horrible host right now, he knows, but– it doesn't matter, as Akira picks up the slack for him.
Guilt gnaws through his gut and his head swims again as he folds down to rest his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. In through the nose, two, three, four, out through the mouth, two, three, four. He's fine. They're both fine. Rumi is– ]
I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to see that, and– see me deal with it.
[ He doesn't lift his head as he speaks, eyes trained down on the ground until they squeeze shut. ]
I'm sure it seemed callous, but...
[ There's no end to that sentence. It was callous. Even though he knows from experience that arguing with a doppelganger has no effect, he still feels terrible for not at least hearing her out. She wasn't even real, and yet that knowledge does nothing to absolve him of the sins he's rapidly listing off in his own mind.
In through the nose. Out through the mouth.
Maruki nudges his glasses up into his hair, presses the heels of his palms into his eyes until neon colors begin to waver behind his eyelids. ]
I'll answer any questions you have. I'm sorry...
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[A glass for Maruki, and a glass for himself. He sets them both on the table, but doesn't touch his own yet.]
You always assume that I'll think the worst of you. [Gentle. He's still quiet, but he sounds gentler than he did before.] And you always apologize for the wrong thing.
[Ruined our life, still tolls in his head like a bell, and he thinks he's starting to get a clearer picture. Or at least, a better one to guess at.
Akira waits after that. Maybe for a long time, or maybe for very little at all. But he waits until Maruki looks at him again before he continues.
It's the first time that his voice and expression crack with pain.]
Bearing worse doesn't mean you have to bear more. Why didn't you let me handle it?
[He has questions - he has many, and he will ask them. But there's none that weigh on his mind more than that.]
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It's the sort of pain he hasn't seen or heard on Akira since those flowers and vines were doing their very best to choke them.
He winces for having been the one to cause it this time, but he'd never make a different choice. That's all the trouble, isn't it? Every time he does something to help Akira or Rumi, it hurts them just as much. ]
Kurusu...
[ A deep inhale, a slow exhale, and he straightens his back to sit upright. Looks Akira dead in the eye, tone gentle even though his resolve is unwavering. ]
I would never make you fight my battles for me, especially not when they're a product of my own cognition. [ The doppelgangers have to be. This place preys on their memories, their fears, their regrets. ] I appreciate that you would have... I really do, more than I can say. But...
[ He's at a loss for words for a moment, before he reminds himself for the hundredth time since their reunion that he will be more honest with this Akira than he was with his own. ]
You already do so much for me. I couldn't ask you to do something like that, too.
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[Akira knows he's as powerless to stop the existence of something wearing Rumi's face as he was the flowers that nearly killed them. Whatever tricks are played in this world by the powers that be, Akira doesn't have anything to he can do that will stop them entirely.
But even so...]
Fighting the product of another's condition is exactly what it's been my job to do for over a year's time. But more than that... [Akira looks at him, and feels the phantom velvet of petals between his fingers.] You and I promised to shoulder our burdens together.
[Maybe... If it hadn't been Akira that was with him, then maybe...
He breathes out, like the sigh will loose what's in his chest.]
It doesn't matter now. It's already done. [The part of him that's wounded, the part of him that's weak - Akira shutters it off, closes it away. He knows how to do this, even if he's never truly done it with Maruki. He's had plenty of practice with others.] You sound sure, but... Why do you feel certain this came from your cognition?
i should have stayed logged into haruaki
It breaks his heart, every time he looks at Akira and feels like he could be looking in a mirror.
But that question needs to be answered first. It's almost comforting to slip into, talk of applying what he knows of cognitive psience to what he knows of this reality. ]
It would be wrong to say that everything that happens to us in this reality is a byproduct of our cognitions, but some things must be. The way the Oracle can extract painful secrets we've never spoken aloud to anyone and put them on display... the wishes we make that manifest into tangible goods and powers. The time a powerful god from a dreamer's reality made his way into this one and tried to wage war on it, and now the doppelgangers taking the shape of people we once knew. [ Maruki scratches at the stubbled line of his jaw, sighs. ] The powers that be here, whatever they are, are the mechanism by which these things happen. But our cognitions are the source.
[ It would be so easy to stay in this realm – the theoretical, the practical.
But that's not why Maruki brought Akira here.
His voice shifts, goes quieter, more honest. ]
If almost anyone else had been with me when that happened... I would have made an excuse to be alone. I can count the people I'd be able to face right now on one hand.
[ And he'd have some fingers left over. ]
You being here is helping me to shoulder this, Kurusu. [ His hands resting over his knees tighten, the fabric of his pantlegs clutching between his fingers. ] You're helping me, right now, just by talking to me. Please understand that.
i would say nothing's stopping u but he wasn't here in april, so
A protest builds in his throat, piles up behind his teeth. Akira has done nothing except allow Maruki to tear a fresh wound in his own heart. What good is it, now, to stem the bleeding of the very damage that he allowed to happen in the first place?
In every sense of the meaning, Akira is the last one that should be here, right now.
But it doesn't help Maruki to fight against it and say any of that, so he doesn't.
All he can do is cast about, grasping desperately until he finds the words to help him. It's the least he can do.]
...Tell me, then.
[He glances away, finally. His eyes rest on the water, the wobbling surface finally settling its movements and becoming still. Akira will do the same.]
You didn't have to, but you chose for me to come with you. If talking helps- [-if I'm really able to help you-] -then tell me what's hurting you, so you don't have to carry it alone.
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Perhaps the way to make him understand just how badly Maruki needs him here is not to tell him, but to show him.
Slowly, he leans back against the couch, hands coming to fold together in his lap. He tips his head back, eyes slipping shut, and breathes. Considers this.
Where to begin? ]
I will. I want to ask you first, though...
[ Begin in a way that he couldn't with anyone else he's told. ]
You know what it's like to change a heart. If someone you loved was suffering terribly, and there was no alternative, would you cut out any instance of pain from their heart?
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When they entered her Palace - he didn't know her the way he does now. All he knew was the distortion that had taken root, rebellion and justice twining around his heart like vines, and the taste of his own desperation on the back of his tongue. If he had to do it now, when he knows every item on her promise list, and the feel of her hair under his palm as he pats her head - would he still Change her Heart?
But - that's not what Maruki is asking. And Akira knows what she had to go through to steal herself back.]
No. [He says it very softly.] I wouldn't.
[If it was someone he loved, he wouldn't, because-]
One of the Phantom Thieves had a Change of Heart. But that process didn't eliminate their pain. It was because they embraced the pain of their past that they were able to heal their distortion at all.
[Even though he wanted to prevent Maruki from feeling any pain... he wouldn't take away what's already there.]
Maybe it's strange, hearing that from their leader. Maybe if I had to make that choice, I would feel caught. But if it was me that was suffering, I know I wouldn't want someone else to erase the things that made me who I am today.
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It's not what he wants anymore. To rid the whole world of their pain, their suffering, by any means necessary– it's a dream this reality has crushed between its palms and rubbed in his face for how unattainable it was. Maruki may not know everything, but he knows now that even with the power of the collective unconscious at his fingertips, it wouldn't have been enough. Pain has value, and a world completely devoid of it is not a sustainable one.
Still, though–
There's a pang deep in his chest, a great yawning ache.
Akira never would have wanted the same thing he did, no matter what. They were opposed from the very start. That may not hurt the Maruki Takuto who has had nearly a year in this reality under his belt, but somewhere inside him still lives the Maruki Takuto who looked at the boy across from him in a warmly lit cafe on an autumn evening and thought, I will do this because of you. I will do this for you. I will do this to thank you.
That Maruki Takuto feels the pain now.
He lets the silence drag on for a few long moments before finally breaking it with a breath drawn that shakes more than it doesn't. Focus. ]
It's not strange. You're... [ On the exhale, he laughs– thin, almost pained, but he laughs as he inclines his head to look over at Akira. ] You're right. Good and bad, beautiful and painful, everything that happens to us shapes us into who we are. I just–
[ His clasped hands wind together, the motion anxious. It never gets easier, no matter how many times he tells this story. And it's never been more difficult than it is now, telling it to the person who intimately understands the responsibility one has when shaping a cognition, changing a heart. ]
I've seen what happens when a pain is too unbearable to live with. May I tell you about it?
no subject
What sort of pain must he have seen, to burden him so? To make the person that's helped Akira hold up his own so deeply wounded?
He doesn't know what he's about to hear. He's heard a lot of terrible things, and maybe it will somehow still be worse. There's something, after all, that ignited Maruki's need to rebel.
But there will never be a world where he answers that question with a "no". Not about this, nor anything else.]
Please. Whatever it is, no matter how painful... I'd still like to know.
cw murder..... ptsd...... here we go.............
[ Any familiarity with retreading this conversation with Akira all over again is offset by just how many ways things are so very different now. A new office, where they sit side by side as equals, allies, true friends rather than across from one another as counselor and student. He isn't pasting more half-truths over a previously told falsehood this time; his only lies have been by omission, and the story he tells now will be nothing but the honest truth.
Even if Akira hates him for it. ]
Rumi's family lived far out in the countryside. We were visiting them for her birthday, and so we could announce our engagement... I was so anxious about it, and she was as carefree as ever. That was one of her best qualities. She never got lost in her own head like I do.
[ His thumb rubs over the ridge of his knuckles, bump-bump-bump-bump, back and forth, not as soothing as it usually is. Maruki clears his throat, presses on. ]
While we were there, someone broke into their home. It was just... one of those completely random things. There was no reason to target them, no reason for any of it. But the robbery attempt went south, and... [ He shakes his head, messy fringe flopping across his glasses as his eyes stay trained on the floor. ] We saw what happened to them. The burglar attacked Rumi on his way out as well, and we were lucky her physical injuries weren't more severe, but...
[ His shoulders ache from how he's slowly hunched over through the story, and his spine cracks as he forces himself to sit up straight before leaning back against the couch and looking over at Akira.
One year and a whole reality ago, he guarded his expression, excised his own pain that he'd so deftly ignored and run from for so long. Here and now, though, there's no hiding the sorrow in his eyes. ]
She never recovered from that. What would you do if the person you love became a shell of themselves, Kurusu? What would you do if their mind trapped them in the worst day of their life?
put me and this whole thread out to pasture
It's a story that would move him into action, under normal circumstances. An injustice like that can't go unpunished. It's no wonder Maruki experienced an Awakening. But even if Akira did something, moved, acted - he's powerless to undo the pain that's already been caused. For all of the work that he had done to help Ohya, he was still powerless to undo the damage that had already been done to Murakami Kayo. His hands can't undo a mental shutdown, just as much as they're incapable of undoing the worst sort of trauma.
His entire stomach lurches as he thinks about it. Haru or Chihaya. Akechi or Maruki. Any of the people he holds in his heart, imprisoned in the confines of their own mind. What would Akira do, other than shatter apart entirely?]
...For all of the power I've been given, there are some things I can't undo. [His eyes squeeze shut.] Wounds that are too deep for me to ever heal. I'd stay at their side, even if I knew it would never be enough. But at the same time... just as I've been powerless to heal those types of pain, I've been given chances to change everything.
[ This is a place where hope shines through the bars of the cage.
His eyes reopen.]
Was that the sort of chance you were given?
cw brainwashing..................................... sigh
That's the thing, though–
Akira's eyes open, train on his again, and Maruki nods. ]
It was, but... I didn't grasp the full scope of what I was doing.
[ Something that still stings in a particular way to admit, even now. If he'd known the cost, would he still have done it?
Maruki can't imagine any reality where the answer to that is no.
He inhales, deep, and tries to reason. ]
You have to understand... I was already deep into my research on cognitive psience. I had the hypothesis that it was possible to directly interact with a person's cognition, but I had no proof of that. No way of figuring out how.
[ An old, familiar pain radiates at the base of his skull, stretches up into his temples, down to wrap around his jaw. ]
I'd been getting terrible migraines all throughout my research. They came on again as Rumi was suffering in that hospital room, and when she told me she wanted to forget...
[ He trails off, throat constricting. He has to look away from Akira for a moment, gather himself up before tying the rotten bow on this story. ]
I heard Azathoth's voice in my head for the first time. [ I shall echo your blasphemous fury with reality so that we may change the world. ] I begged it to help me heal Rumi, and– it did. [ A beat. ] I did. [ Azathoth is strong because you are strong. Azathoth can rewrite a person's mind because Maruki can. ] She forgot anything terrible ever happened to her parents. She was free.
[ The smile he offers up to Akira is water thin, eyes a bit too telltale bright behind thick lenses. ]
Unfortunately... she also forgot me. Our life together. I lost her, just like that. [ Is he still smiling? Everything's gone numb. He can't feel his face, can't tell. The hands in his lap have unwound, clenched into tight fists in the fabric of his pants, and Maruki's not aware at all. ] She's not dead. I know I speak about her as if she is, but she's not. She's happy now. That's what matters. Isn't it?
[ It's a genuine question, plaintive and searching. Isn't it? ]
somebody make Me forget this thread
The guilt. The certainty about destroying Rumi's copy. The way he could only speak of this to Akira.
It should be a terrible thing to find out. Maybe it is. Maybe that's why his gut twists so terribly as he stares at Maruki's face, but if he were to really weigh it in his hands...
The sorrow on Maruki's face is deep and unending, no matter how much he's smiled through every terrible word he said. It's harder for Akira to look at than for him to hear the things that would horrify his friends.
"If I agree to this, the ruined city will return to normal."
But there's one thing that's never really changed about Akira, no matter who he's around or who he's spoken to.
"However, the people will remain trapped, abandoning their ability to think for themselves..."
Humans are capable of terrible, terrible things. The most wretched acts and most irredeemable crimes. That has never influenced who he spends time with, who he will make himself useful to so he may utilize them in turn. Nor has it ever changed the types of people who genuinely worked their way into his heart and all of the things they've done.
Akira knows that every inch of Akechi's hands are drenched in blood and he knows he will never try to wash it off, just as much as he knows that he'll tear himself apart if that's what it takes to save his life.
Because Akira has always known that he isn't a good person. He's only met people that made him want to be a better one, and who he's made better choices for the sake of.]
...So that's what it was. Why you were sure about her. And why your pain was so vast.
[It's not a far distance from Maruki at all, only a few steps. Akira crosses it.]
I can't be the one to tell you if her happiness is the only thing that matters. If what you did was right or wrong. I won't absolve you of it, the same way I won't condemn you for it. But...
[Akira stops beside where he sits, and looks down.
Before him is Maruki Takuto, suffocating under the weight of his own sins.
Before him is Maruki Takuto, who leaves snacks out on the table for when he gets home from his late shift at Club Quartz, somehow always his favorite. Before him is Maruki Takuto, the only one Akira will allow in the kitchen beside him, flowing from one spot to another without either of them ever disrupting their work. Before him is Maruki Takuto, who lights up with the enthusiasm of a child when he speaks of the difference between physics in the natural world and the Metaverse.
The person who Akira cares about, who he's willing to die to save, has killed more than Akira has dared to ask.
The person who Akira cares about, who fate denied him the chance to meet, wiped clean the mind of the woman he loves.
A person who Akira cares about is in incalculable pain.
His hand reaches out
When I was first placed under arrest, I felt cornered in an impossible situation. I felt trapped. I felt betrayed. People I've known since I was a small child looked at me with fear and disdain. If I'd had to stay there, in that place that used to be my home... my will itself would've been crushed. It would've eroded away me. No matter how else any of it made me feel... going to Tokyo was an escape from all of that.
[He's never told anyone this. Maybe will never tell anyone this again.]
I think that, in some situations... an escape is your only way out of it. There's a difference between running away and finding escape from the situation that's entrapped you. I can't say whether or not it was the same for Rumi-san. But I think she was also being crushed under an impossible weight. Maybe what you did was right, and maybe what you did was wrong - but it doesn't change that you freed her from it.
[Maybe, even if Akira can't free him from that pain... maybe something in his words can ease it.]
Since she's forgotten you, have you spoken to her?
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The hand on his shoulder is the anchoring weight that tells him this this hasn't all been some sort of dream. Because what else could it be, when he's finally admitted the worst truth of all to Akira and received not only acceptance and understanding, but a peek into the depths of his own heart as well?
It would've eroded away me, and all at once, Maruki has so many questions that may never be answered. Akira speaks so little about himself, and somehow even less about the circumstances that he came from. He's always thought that the beginning of his time in Tokyo must have been so painful, so isolating, and maybe it was, but–
It was an escape. A necessary one, to keep from slipping away from this world, to become the person he was meant to be.
Had Akira not escaped, they never would have met. That goes for the Akira in his own reality, and the one who stands before him now.
And–
for the first time in his life–
Maruki wonders if he hasn't been crushed under an impossible weight for all these years too.
Just like that, with nothing more than his own story relayed and a comforting grip on one shoulder, Akira shifts something that's been stubbornly stuck inside his heart. Some twist of the knotted, gnarled distortion that still lives in there begins to unwind. If his own pain is real, if it goes beyond the all-consuming grief of losing Rumi, if he's been drowning himself in this guilt and loneliness–
Who will set him free?
No one can do that but Maruki and the person standing before him.
Somewhere above them, stretching so high into the sky that it reaches another time in another reality entirely, there is– was– will be a staircase, and a battle, and a hand wrapped around his wrist.
Here and now, Akira's palm is warm over the tense, tired muscle of his shoulder, and Maruki finds himself reaching up to cover it with his own hand. ]
No.
[ There's so much more he needs to say, to all of that, but first– ]
No, I haven't. I can't. I haven't even seen her. Today was the first day I've ever– but it wasn't her, of course.
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[Akira nods, agreeing, as if Maruki needs to hear it, or maybe he simply needs to say it for himself.]
If it was me... If it was your Akira, too- I think in any reality, I would tell you it's better not to do what I'm about to say. But right or wrong, forgiven or condemned... There's only one person in any world who can give you the answer you're looking for, and it isn't me. [His voice is even gentler now. Maybe gentler than it's ever been, around Maruki.] Maybe you know that. Maybe you don't. But only Rumi-san can tell you if her happiness is what matters.
[Underneath Maruki's hand, Akira's squeezes at his shoulder.]
But I'm not saying that's an answer you have to seek out, now or ever. [He smiles then, and it's a crooked thing.] Someone would probably condemn me, for saying that to you.
[Maruki didn't do a good thing, regardless of whether or not it was necessary. It's simply that something like that has never gotten in the way of Akira caring for someone.]
I can't tell you to go to her or stay away for the rest of your life. I can't tell you how to choose to move on, either. [His other hand comes up, resting upon where Maruki holds his own.] All I can do is stand by your side, as your friend and your ally. All we can do is fight alongside each other, in this world and our own, and protect each other so neither of us ever feels desperate enough to make a choice like that ever again.
[He can't change what Maruki's done. Akira can't change what he's done himself, either.
But they can still do everything thing they can, to guard against doing anything they'd regret.]
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All we can do is fight alongside each other, in this world and our own, and protect each other so neither of us ever feels desperate enough to make a choice like that ever again.
I know how dangerous this is. How dangerous I am. I can't change what I've done, and I never would. I can only change what I do going forward.
–and for the first time, Maruki dares to believe that the story will go on.
It's so easy for him to develop tunnel vision. Too easy, really. It happened with his studies, with cognitive psience, with his research, with the prospect of healing all pains – and lately, it's been happening with what awaits him after his time in this reality is finally through.
But for all the possibilities he's conjured up, all the contingencies he's planned for–
Maruki's never considered what his future holds.
Whether they're able to change Akechi's fate or not, whether he's able to change his own fate or not– life still goes on after, and not once has he spared a single second for what he might want to do with his life. He pictures it now, as Akira talks about moving on, and it's so foreign, so jarring – a great, vast expanse of blank white space and the daunting task of holding the pen to begin filling it.
Where would he begin?
How would he even start to move on?
Akira can't tell him how, but he doesn't have to. The first day they met, he told him the only thing Maruki has ever needed to know:
No matter how he chooses to do it, he will move on. No matter how impossible it seems with his heart still so mired in that tangled, distorted sorrow, he will move on. He will, because he has Akira at his side – in this reality, in the true reality, in so many others.
He will.
Maruki has felt the bone-deep catharsis of being able to share this pain and feel even a sliver of his grief several times over in this world. He's phenomenally lucky to have met a few people who he trusts with the very depths of his soul, and they've all given him more acceptance and comfort than he ever could have dreamed of–
But Akira's presence, here and now, heralds the first time Maruki has ever shared his terrible story and felt a swell of hope.
Their hands are stacked, one of his sandwiched between both of Akira's. It's silly, but he reaches up with the one free hand remaining and adds it to the pile, and the smile that blooms across his face is warm even as it wavers. ]
You truly are my guiding light.
[ Maruki stands, then, dislodging his hands so he can instead press them onto Akira's shoulders instead. For a moment, he only holds him at arm's length there, overwhelmed with such profound gratitude that he doesn't know what else to say.
A deep, trembling inhale, and– ]
I feel like I never know how to thank you. And I know you'll tell me it's not necessary, and you'll mean it when you do– but there has to be something, Kurusu. There has to be some way I can show you even... even just a bit of the light you've shown me.
[ His hands squeeze, desperate to pull him in for a hug, but staying still for now. That's only happened while they were in the throes of the flower illness; this isn't nearly so dire, no matter how close Maruki felt to death as he stared that doppelganger down. ]
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When Akira talks to Maruki, he doesn't think he sees the other him. Not anymore, at least. He sees him, except for the places where he inevitably can't; Akira doesn't hold that against him, because he knows that whatever circumstances are at work, he and Maruki's Akira must mostly be the same person. He knows Maruki sees him, and it doesn't eat away at him the way it used to.
And even so, Akira hears those words and feels like he's stolen away something important and precious.
Once more, he closes his eyes.
When you see him again, he thinks at a person he will never, ever meet, never take him for granted.
He reopens them almost as fast, blinking away the ties over his heart. If nothing else... this, at least, has an easy answer.]
You already know that way, though.
[Voice soft, but stronger than before. Surer.]
Stay with me. [His eyes flicker bright with a promise already made.] Help me save him. Help me save you. And at the end of it all...
[When he smiles this time, it's a wistful thing. Spoken words united with careful, neat writing on a small card.]
Remember me. As much as you can, even if whatever power rules this world tries to take it away... Even if your mind forgets, I'll forgive you. But remember me in your soul. Remember me, whenever you see Kurusu Akira.
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He's already made this promise. He's already sworn this down to his bones, branded it onto his heart. He'll do it again and again, as many times as it takes to remind both Akira and himself that this is not the first time they've met, nor is it the last, and in every life, in every reality, their souls will remember what their minds might not.
Is it really that easy to show Akira the gratitude that threatens to consume him whole? Could it be true that all he has to do to repay Akira is the only thing he wants to do at all – stay.
There has to be more, Maruki thinks, that can't possibly be it, but–
The same words were on the tip of his tongue before Akira spoke. Please. Stay in the office. Stay here with me until I can face the rest of the world, and then stay by my side as I do.
Perhaps it really is the greatest thing they can do for one another.
Maruki's smile is water-thin, tight, wavering as he bows his head, eyes squeezing shut against the heat that keeps threatening to rise up. He nods, a soft exhale of a laugh escaping, then picks himself back up so he can look Akira in the eye. Like a flower bending toward any ray of sunlight to be found in the dead of winter, always, always. ]
Of course. Of course I will, Kurusu. Staying, remembering... you might as well be asking me to breathe.
[ That smile gains strength, as does his grip over Akira's shoulders, one final squeeze before he forces himself to drop his hands. They feel too empty hanging at his sides, but– ]
You forgot one thing, though.
[ Help me save him. Help me save you. ]
I'll save you, too.
[ Even if it doesn't involve rewiring reality to Akira's exact specifications, even if he doesn't know how yet, even if it takes every day of the rest of his life in this world to figure it out, even if Akira tries to fight it, or doesn't want to help him with it, or thinks he isn't worth it– ]
We'll save each other. I've never been more certain.
dear God i hope this is the wrap or u wrap after this or it'll kill me
Akira is the boy who stretched out a hand to someone in need and had it returned with words that sentenced him away. Kurusu Akira is the high school student on probation, the one who scares everyone away in the library, who makes himself useful to all, but especially to those who might be of use to him too. Joker is the leader of the Phantom Thieves, the one who strikes down owners of distorted hearts who abuse their power over those who are weaker.
He always stretches out his hand.
Over
and over
and over
Time and time again, he has saved who he can. He has done everything to be strong, the one who can hold everyone up. But in reality
You truly are my guiding light-
-and it's what Akira has stolen away from its rightful owner.
You truly are my guiding light-
-and it's what Akira has waited and hoped to be for someone, for so, so long.
Akira has healed so much. He's grown so much, compared to the boy who saved people but hesitated to form connections of his own, after everything that happened to him. These are things he's rehashed and sorted and found the path to walk on, time and time again. They're things that he always thinks he's gotten over, before he figures out there's another step to learn.
But this time... it feels like something far deeper is being mended.]
You already have.
[It's soft, half to himself. Wondering and a little awed. As close as he is to Maruki, it's impossible not to be heard.
But then - louder, firmer, with shoulders that finally relax all the way:]
You have. You are. [Akira smiles, and it feels like the smile he's let himself wear around Maruki when they're in the place that's been made into a home.] And we will.
[He is a Phantom Thief, through and through. As it turns out, stealing a light isn't impossible for him after all.
And when the time comes for him to pass this bond on to who it belongs to... Akira trusts that Joker will steal back what's rightfully his.]
RANK 8
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. ]
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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.]
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It seems to him that somebody had cracked open his ribcage and removed the organs protected by it; removed them, replaced them, sewn him back up before he ever knew it happened. They gave him electric shock, fried his memories and all that went with them, changing him.
This has happened before. It's of no consequence, and this too will pass, but all of that does little for him now. Dazai feels as he feels, and he feels nothing at all. There's a hole that's left behind, a void that was filled by an undefinable something - something old, and patient, mean, and above all else insatiable. Inhuman.
But he doesn't notice any of that, having always lived in this way.
He shakes his head. ]
No, nothing... Well, plenty has, but it's nothing I need to tell you of.
[ Doppelgangers and changelings and all that. And he's removed himself from all that because - ]
It's quieter about here.
group text @personyaa and @akechi
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I don't understand why we're all searching for this. One of us would have sufficed.
[ The potato falls to the ground. Sadge. ]
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I think I finally got away from the frog legs, though, so things are probably looking up.
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Frog legs? I can't say I've ever cooked those before...
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Most of the ones I saw were pre-cooked, but they had some... interesting flavors. The honey and rhubarb mix seemed like it was selling well.
[Does it taste good? Who knows. But it's weird, so that's enough to make Akira's eyes light up.]
In any case, I did make it to some more normal food. A little more normal than I was expecting, actually.
[Even if there's... a lot of it...]
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Maruki stares at his phone, baffled, and his question is entirely sincere. ]
Is there soup?
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[That's the good news!]
But all of it contains frog legs.
[That's the bad news!]
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I found something similar. It's the body part of some kind of animal.
[attachment one]
We need to adjust our expectations for this world. I suggest we look for instant meals instead of soup ingredients. Surely they've figured out how to make instant noodles somewhere.
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[ Are you fucking kidding him right now. ]
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I'd try it. Let us know what kind of animal it is if you find out.
[okay freak]
Has anyone tried going into a different aisle yet?
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Hold on, let me try reasoning with the gelflings. There's a whole section of the store dreamers still aren't allowed in...
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Depraved is a strong word.
More importantly, just infiltrate it. Akechi's taught you by now, right?
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AKECHI HASN'T TAUGHT HIM SHIT ABOUT INFILTRATION?
Whatever. He's not here. He's arguing with gelflings. Is that Dan? Oooooh that's Dan... He's going to stay so normal and not get heated... ]
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Wouldn't the illustrious leader of the Phantom Thieves be better suited for infiltration training? I'll leave that to you - should you find it necessary to show him, that is.
Maruki - barter with your extensive funds. Shards talk, so speak with them.
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[Tones that can be heard through text.]
Maruki-sensei, if there's anything you're unsure of, feel free to ask me.
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No, you know what? OKAY. ]
On second thought, perhaps you're right.
Leaving a job half done isn't in my nature - I won't start now.
No, I'll teach him how to infiltrate the way I always have. He'll learn to accept the collateral damage from such methods.
[ Is what he does any different than Akira? Not really. Does he want to put the fear of Yaldy in him anyway? Yeah. ]
Maruki, we'll start soon. I'm certain you'll pick up on it quickly and there are plenty of targets to choose from, so to speak.
[ They're GONNA KILL A GELFLING. j/k...unless? ]
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[Alright, well. That can't be good. That's been a while now, with nothing but a blurry picture of... soup? That has to be soup. Also not good, probably.]
Are you okay?
Did you eat any frog legs?
[?????????? there are no frog legs in the PICTURE]
Akechi, you should've told me you didn't train him sooner. He could get ambushed, you know.
I'M WRAPPIN FOR ME SO WE CAN DO NEW THINGS
I met an old foe and was evicted from the store before I could secure an infiltration route. Or any soup.
I'm sorry.
slaps the side of it one last time. if only they had fit some soup in here.
Let's count our losses and regroup. We'll take some time to prepare and approach it again another day.
[It seems it's time to prepare some lessons for Maruki, anyway...]
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Read @ xx:xx. He's surrounded by idiots. ]
text; un: doc0203 - 5/13
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?
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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.
YAY
Did you ever talk to anyone about how hard it was?
[ Or is that another thing Akira suffered in silence? ]
shutting my eyes so tight: Y. YAY.
I think Morgana picked up on it, just because we spent so much time together. Maybe that's why he watched over me as closely as he did. But I've told you more about it now than I did anyone back then.
[It doesn't really bother him anymore. Didn't really bother him as much as it could've when it was happening, either. Eventually, he found a home for himself, pressed between those bustling streets... so it doesn't really matter if it was hard at first, does it?]
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You never breathed a word about it to me back in my reality, either.
I'm glad you've told me now. I just wish there's more I could have done to help you back then.
That's not why I wanted to ask, though...
[ Maruki mulls it over for a few moments longer before– ]
What was it like when you returned back home after all of that?
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Maybe not so much of one. There's a lot that other Kurusu Akira hasn't said, even though he has here, it seems. Maybe because they're allies in this reality, something far beyond the level he shared with his Confidants in Tokyo. Maybe because Akira has seen what lies beyond Christmas Eve, while that Kurusu Akira hasn't.
Or for a reason that's a lot more simple. After all, he's thinking of a way to say as little as possible right now, isn't he?]
It doesn't feel like home anymore.
If I called it isolating, that would be ironic, wouldn't it?
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It sounds like it might have been a fairly isolating place even before your unjust arrest, if you don't mind me saying so.
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I spent a lot of time on my own, back then.
[Relationships didn't feel meaningful and lasting until Tokyo. There were peers in class that he considered friends, he supposes, but nothing that survived his probation.
His eyes were too "scary" for anyone to want to stick around, probably.]
It's quieter than the city. It's pretty. Easier to sleep, and you can see real stars. But I wished I was still in Tokyo as soon as I got back.
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Do you think you'll move back after you graduate?
It does sound like you'd be happier there...
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All of the people I love are there. I don't think there's much left for me in Hitachi anymore.
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Even if that's not possible, though... ]
I hope you're able to. If it's what you truly want, and you put your mind to it, I can't imagine anything that you'd let get in your way.
You deserve to grasp that happiness. I can't think of anyone who deserves it more.
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[He's joking, but there's something in it that's genuine as well. A fire of determination that's been lit.]
In all seriousness, though. Thank you. It's a decision I've been leaning towards, but it still means a lot to hear you say that.
[Does he "deserve" it? Akira doesn't know if he can say that. But still...
Selfishly, he wants to reach for it anyway.]
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[ It's a tease, but it's not a joke. ]
Can I ask something very selfish of you?
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It hums in his chest, a warm comfort. No, Maruki doesn't really need to say it at this point, but- it's a reminder. It's a reassurance.
He won in a world with him. He won in a world without him. When the time comes, he'll make it back to the place that has become his home, because of who's believing in him. No matter how far apart they may be.]
We'll see how selfish it is, but always. What is it?
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Whether you remember me or not, just keep an eye out.
I have a difficult time believing there can truly be a reality in which we never meet. Just because it didn't happen during your year at Shujin doesn't mean it won't ever happen.
In a city that huge with so many people, it's easy to be another anonymous face, so perhaps it's wishful thinking to imagine, but...
If there's anyone who can see me, I think it's you.
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Akira never met Maruki in his reality. Now, almost a year out from what Maruki knows, he recognizes that the Conspiracy is even bigger than he'd ever thought.
How hard would it be, really, to suppress someone digging too far into cognitive psience?
And yet, Akira must still bury that fear even deeper. He can't kill it off, no matter how much he's tried, but he must bury it even further. Because too much of him wants to believe. In himself, in Maruki, in the bond that they've formed together here in this world... He can no longer imagine any reality where they weren't meant to meet. So even if Akira is afraid...]
I should be saying that to you, you know. The day that I met you, that the other me met you... I'm sure the way you saw him shocked him as much as it did me when I realized how easily you can see past the masks I put up.
But I will. There are so many people in Tokyo, and yet I somehow landed in the one place that would bring me close to the people I would grow to love. No matter how low the odds may seem, an improbability doesn't mean it's impossible.
I'll find you. Even if I don't remember. Even if takes a long time. Wherever you may be, I'll find you. I swear it.
[I'll find you again. No matter what.
Even if the only thing left for me is to weep over your grave, without even knowing why... I'll find you.]
okay you demon let's WRAP THIS ONE ON UP. dear god
Perhaps he is dead. Would there even be a grave to find? It's not as if he had anyone around to handle affairs like that.
He has to believe, hope against all hope that there exists a Maruki Takuto out there in Tokyo, going about a much more normal life. Perhaps he even still has Rumi. There's no telling. ]
I ask for an inch, and you promise a mile. You really are the most incredible young man.
Thank you, Kurusu. I don't know what else to say.
text @ approx 2:03AM | un: garden05
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I'm up, but I'm surprised you are. Is everything okay?
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Yes, everything is fine! I'm sorry, did I worry you?
I simply can't sleep, is all.
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I'd be lying if I said I didn't worry at all. I'm glad you're okay, though.
What's keeping you up?
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... Akechi-kun is my roommate.
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All of a sudden, a lot more makes sense.
He feels worry thread its way through his chest. Whether it's for Haru, or Akechi, or both of them... Akira can't really say. His fingers lock, frozen with the words that his chest aches to type. Do you want me to come stay somewhere nearby, or Would you like me to talk to him, tug him in each of their directions. But there's still a feeling that's stronger than anything else, presiding over all.]
I didn't realize. I can see why it would by hard to sleep.
[I trust you, Haru.
He trusts her, and she will be alright, and that's why Akira can do what he's always done.]
If you want to talk about him, I'm here to listen.
[He is meant to guide, to stand as a pillar.
He does not need to interfere, because Okumura Haru has always been strong enough to save herself.]
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She looks over at Akechi, who's busy on his phone, and maybe stares at him a little longer than she intends to. He might sense it, but she rips her gaze away from him to look back down at the words on her screen, face flushed in the dark. ]
He doesn't sleep much, does he? Even now, he's still on his phone. I kind of wonder what keeps him up so late.
[ But it keeps her up. She's not used to being a night owl and the sticky, wet heat of the hotel suite doesn't help. ]
It's... somewhat uncomfortable. Sharing a room with him. We already do not see eye-to-eye on the trial.
birthday bathhouse
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?
gnaws u in half
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.]
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A long time since Akechi had a good day. Not for lack of effort from himself. Not even due to others. It's an improbable, impossible sensation that was thrown out with a noose. He's chased it ever since and always -
Always -
It's his own mind, his own thoughts, his own desires that fuel an anger in his gut when something feels good for too long. Akechi Goro poisons. He doesn't particularly care.
It's inevitable. He welcomes the way it creeps into his mind in the dead of night, but right now-
It feels like a good day when his body is forced to relax in a bath full of liquid lava. Stays good, somehow, even when a hand brushes hair against his damp face.
He's in a good mood is all. Akechi should say something - would, probably, with anyone else. Make a remark about personal space, but -
His mouth stays shut, eyes on Akira as always. It's been far too long since they were last together like this. Well before a planned murder fully formed, though Akechi can't help to see red when sweat drip, drip, drips from Akira's chin, right into the water.
I see you're feeling bold dies on his lips. Good will go away on its own anyway. ]
It's fascinating to consider. If I suddenly believe I'm eighteen again, will I gradually go back to how I looked then? Fourteen? Ten? We should be grateful it doesn't seem to be that simple.
[ And it's quiet. Calm. Drops from a leaky faucet plop into the water. There's no grand gesture to make or confessions about a past Akechi never wanted to spill.
It's only them, laid out and bare. ]
It's not as if you haven't changed either.
[ In this world, in his last one. Kurusu Akira from the future is the same and yet - ]
That's what it means to be alive, I suppose. It's inevitable. Even this place can't stop such a thing.
> july 7
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?
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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?
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[ Maruki spent those weeks with tattoos rapidly appearing over every inch of visible skin and then some. The one at his nape is the only one he'll never account for, and he doesn't now, either. ]
I was granting more wishes than I was making. I can't imagine that surprises you.
[ He pauses their walk down the beach, turns to look out over the water, up at the stars. His eyes scan for Vega and Altair even though he knows they aren't there. ]
You really wouldn't change anything about today? Nothing at all?
the balancing board of "this isn't a direct quote Buuuuuuuuuut-"
I think it would be nice if you had just as many wishes for yourself.
Part of him almost says it. But he doesn't.]]
Maybe it sounds simple, but happy days like today... When I got to experience them back in Tokyo with my friends, those were some of the happiest days I've ever had.
[It's something endlessly precious. It's one of the things that made it so hard to go home, and there's nothing in the world that Akira would trade it for. And that's why now, today...]
Having a day like that with you, too... It's really everything I could want. [A soft laugh slips out of him.] Except for it to be longer, or to have more days like this, maybe.
[There's one thing, perhaps. Maybe even a few, and bigger. But those words rest on the best approximation of tanzaku he could make by his own hand, tucked away in the drawers in his room.]