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[It's a surprise, a touch, touch from someone not his own age, an old instinct kicks in his chest-
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.]
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.]
[ One of many things Maruki hopes to bring back to the true reality is this: Sincere effort put into spending more time with Akira outside of a counseling office. Chatting, getting to know one another, simply enjoying the company. Sometimes they read or journal more than they speak, content in the silence together.
It took forming a bond that wasn't built on Maruki's own distorted heart for a deep friendship to bloom. Even a guiding light doesn't begin to touch upon what they've found here. His own Akira means so much more to him now, and has never felt farther away.
Maybe this is something they can only have here. This is a place where hope shines through the bars of the cage, after all. But god, he'll try to pay it forward when he returns to where he belongs.
He idly rolls his iced Americano between his hands, condensation from the glass coating his palms as they chatter on. ]
I was hoping to get your input on that, if you don't mind. Admittedly, I'm still not sure if I can continue on with cognitive psience back home, but if I can, I'd like to look int–
[ The words don't trail off so much as die instantly on his tongue. His eyes roved away from Akira as he spoke, up to the ceiling of the little cafe in Stellari that they've come to favor, then over to glance out the window–
And that's where they stay. Widening behind the thick lenses of his glasses, pupils contracting, heart hammering up into his dry throat.
It's unmistakable. He would know her anywhere. Tall and graceful, close-cropped red hair shining in the early spring sun–
Eyes bright with recognition when they land on his.
Maruki says nothing. Only stares with an expression that begins to creep into horror as the woman in the bustling crowd of the city starts to approach the window. ]
It took forming a bond that wasn't built on Maruki's own distorted heart for a deep friendship to bloom. Even a guiding light doesn't begin to touch upon what they've found here. His own Akira means so much more to him now, and has never felt farther away.
Maybe this is something they can only have here. This is a place where hope shines through the bars of the cage, after all. But god, he'll try to pay it forward when he returns to where he belongs.
He idly rolls his iced Americano between his hands, condensation from the glass coating his palms as they chatter on. ]
I was hoping to get your input on that, if you don't mind. Admittedly, I'm still not sure if I can continue on with cognitive psience back home, but if I can, I'd like to look int–
[ The words don't trail off so much as die instantly on his tongue. His eyes roved away from Akira as he spoke, up to the ceiling of the little cafe in Stellari that they've come to favor, then over to glance out the window–
And that's where they stay. Widening behind the thick lenses of his glasses, pupils contracting, heart hammering up into his dry throat.
It's unmistakable. He would know her anywhere. Tall and graceful, close-cropped red hair shining in the early spring sun–
Eyes bright with recognition when they land on his.
Maruki says nothing. Only stares with an expression that begins to creep into horror as the woman in the bustling crowd of the city starts to approach the window. ]
[ They've met in many places by now.
There's the cafe. Dazai had set up a chessboard for them there with such regularity now that it was barely moved. It was their table, and if it was disrupted then he always had some replacement, but it was theirs. That's how their lessons went. Opening strategies. The middle. The endgame. Dazai was as perfect as a hypothetical opponent as a real one. The latter was far more occasional, barely even on request, just every now and again, just that one little reminder of what the upper limit is.
His chess matches are perfect. There's no winning against him.
But Dazai, as his senpai, states only that chess is won and loss based on mistakes. If played perfectly on both sides, it will always end in a draw.
He wants a draw.
But none of that is here today. He's sitting on the stump of a tree, checking his fingernails with a bored expression. Their lessons aren't forgotten. They're there in his mind, and Dazai frowns as he thinks on this and that, and how he wants to offer further instruction. Akira is as sharp as he thought him to be.
All of that, and none of it, because he's forgetting so much of importance. He knows that. He thinks it as he checks the back of his fingernails, as he stretches out his arm and inspects them with his fingers splayed out. There's something more to this. There's someone else that he should be meeting here.
But there's not. There is. There's not. It doesn't matter if there is or not, because he knows that he doesn't want what comes of this to leak out. It's something that should be kept between them, carried by the faint breeze and whispered amongst the shivering leaves and branches of the trees, lost long before it can reach human ears.
That's what it is. But he is prepared all the same. There's a box on his lap, which his hands are folded over. A box which contains all the pieces for chess. And pressed above that, held tight, a deck of cards, and his expression is so dead and empty that one might think he were a corpse sitting upon this place. Dazai isn't always emotional, but this is different even so - his slight smile is fixed in place, but his eyes are dark, a pair of black holes that sucks in and consumes even the slightest hint of life.
They'll move somewhere else. This is just a meeting spot. But it's their meeting spot. It's where he's chosen today, on some whim, and he stares ahead without any interest at all.
Dead. Vacant. Empty. All consuming. Watching. His fingers drum against the stack of cards, and there's a little hum, and that gaze seems darker and deader still.
Such as it goes. ]
There's the cafe. Dazai had set up a chessboard for them there with such regularity now that it was barely moved. It was their table, and if it was disrupted then he always had some replacement, but it was theirs. That's how their lessons went. Opening strategies. The middle. The endgame. Dazai was as perfect as a hypothetical opponent as a real one. The latter was far more occasional, barely even on request, just every now and again, just that one little reminder of what the upper limit is.
His chess matches are perfect. There's no winning against him.
But Dazai, as his senpai, states only that chess is won and loss based on mistakes. If played perfectly on both sides, it will always end in a draw.
He wants a draw.
But none of that is here today. He's sitting on the stump of a tree, checking his fingernails with a bored expression. Their lessons aren't forgotten. They're there in his mind, and Dazai frowns as he thinks on this and that, and how he wants to offer further instruction. Akira is as sharp as he thought him to be.
All of that, and none of it, because he's forgetting so much of importance. He knows that. He thinks it as he checks the back of his fingernails, as he stretches out his arm and inspects them with his fingers splayed out. There's something more to this. There's someone else that he should be meeting here.
But there's not. There is. There's not. It doesn't matter if there is or not, because he knows that he doesn't want what comes of this to leak out. It's something that should be kept between them, carried by the faint breeze and whispered amongst the shivering leaves and branches of the trees, lost long before it can reach human ears.
That's what it is. But he is prepared all the same. There's a box on his lap, which his hands are folded over. A box which contains all the pieces for chess. And pressed above that, held tight, a deck of cards, and his expression is so dead and empty that one might think he were a corpse sitting upon this place. Dazai isn't always emotional, but this is different even so - his slight smile is fixed in place, but his eyes are dark, a pair of black holes that sucks in and consumes even the slightest hint of life.
They'll move somewhere else. This is just a meeting spot. But it's their meeting spot. It's where he's chosen today, on some whim, and he stares ahead without any interest at all.
Dead. Vacant. Empty. All consuming. Watching. His fingers drum against the stack of cards, and there's a little hum, and that gaze seems darker and deader still.
Such as it goes. ]
Edited 2025-04-14 10:07 (UTC)
[To be able to sit with Maruki and speak to him like this... no matter how many times he does it, it's a gift. It's a privilege. For both of them, it's a good thing; Akira is able to answer questions that Maruki has had unanswered for far too long, and he can speak freely of the Metaverse things that have stagnantly sat in his mind. If they can help each other even a little... that makes him happy, too.
An answer is at his lips. Something he must choose carefully. The Conspiracy will never look kindly on someone continuing to poke around in cognitive psience, and he doesn't know what sort of support Maruki will have. Maybe Akechi, because Akira's already resolved to not let things end in this world. Surely Akira, because he can't imagine any version of himself that would simply leave any version of Maruki to fend for himself against them... But he also wouldn't have the power to stop himself from being forced back to Hitachi...
Maruki stops mid-sentence. An abrupt cutoff. It's his first indication that something is wrong, even if Akira doesn't recognize it as such at first.]
Sensei...?
[Akira almost looks at whatever Maruki is staring at, but the undeniable sign that something is wrong is swifter.
He's seen it enough on others' faces to know what it is, but he's never seen it on Maruki's like this. Once, almost, in a hazy, bloody memory - but even then, it wasn't like this.
Akira's heart clenches before it picks up speed.
He looks afraid.]
Maruki-sensei. [Akira is already standing, not wasting any time. A threat. Something he needs to protect him from. He can already feel Joker's mantle sliding over him before he even turns to see.] Let's get somewhere safe. You can tell me what's happening after-
[Akira looks.
And feels his face twist in confusion.
Outside stands a woman with bright eyes and brighter red hair. She stares directly at Maruki, seeming entirely focused on him. She's not the enemy he's expecting, and even though he should know better than to drop his guard in this world- he does, a single perplexed word leaving him.]
Who...?
An answer is at his lips. Something he must choose carefully. The Conspiracy will never look kindly on someone continuing to poke around in cognitive psience, and he doesn't know what sort of support Maruki will have. Maybe Akechi, because Akira's already resolved to not let things end in this world. Surely Akira, because he can't imagine any version of himself that would simply leave any version of Maruki to fend for himself against them... But he also wouldn't have the power to stop himself from being forced back to Hitachi...
Maruki stops mid-sentence. An abrupt cutoff. It's his first indication that something is wrong, even if Akira doesn't recognize it as such at first.]
Sensei...?
[Akira almost looks at whatever Maruki is staring at, but the undeniable sign that something is wrong is swifter.
He's seen it enough on others' faces to know what it is, but he's never seen it on Maruki's like this. Once, almost, in a hazy, bloody memory - but even then, it wasn't like this.
Akira's heart clenches before it picks up speed.
He looks afraid.]
Maruki-sensei. [Akira is already standing, not wasting any time. A threat. Something he needs to protect him from. He can already feel Joker's mantle sliding over him before he even turns to see.] Let's get somewhere safe. You can tell me what's happening after-
[Akira looks.
And feels his face twist in confusion.
Outside stands a woman with bright eyes and brighter red hair. She stares directly at Maruki, seeming entirely focused on him. She's not the enemy he's expecting, and even though he should know better than to drop his guard in this world- he does, a single perplexed word leaving him.]
Who...?
[It's their spot.
It's not their only one, certainly, but Akira likes this one. There will always be something in him that can enjoy the quiet, even as enamored as Tokyo made him with bustle and noise. They go through different spots as easily as Akira goes through his masks, and it's never a bother to him; he's as happy to be caught up in the pull of Dazai's tide as he is with anything else that brings him joy.
There's no surprise during the times he is called, and there is no surprise in simply running into Dazai by chance. Whatever the occasion, Akira will always rise to meet it.
No, the surprise is only in seeing the look in Dazai's eyes. Something that was there is no longer. Akira feels a chill to recognize it, even if he can't quite recognize what feels like it's missing.]
...Dazai-senpai. [His eyes search him for any clues, anything familiar he can grasp. Many things have happened lately that are alarming, but this is...] Did something happen?
[It's such an obvious question that Akira almost hates asking it, but- he doesn't know what else to say. Not until he can collect more information. Not until he can figure out what's left him missing something.]
It's not their only one, certainly, but Akira likes this one. There will always be something in him that can enjoy the quiet, even as enamored as Tokyo made him with bustle and noise. They go through different spots as easily as Akira goes through his masks, and it's never a bother to him; he's as happy to be caught up in the pull of Dazai's tide as he is with anything else that brings him joy.
There's no surprise during the times he is called, and there is no surprise in simply running into Dazai by chance. Whatever the occasion, Akira will always rise to meet it.
No, the surprise is only in seeing the look in Dazai's eyes. Something that was there is no longer. Akira feels a chill to recognize it, even if he can't quite recognize what feels like it's missing.]
...Dazai-senpai. [His eyes search him for any clues, anything familiar he can grasp. Many things have happened lately that are alarming, but this is...] Did something happen?
[It's such an obvious question that Akira almost hates asking it, but- he doesn't know what else to say. Not until he can collect more information. Not until he can figure out what's left him missing something.]
[ 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. ]
Something's not right.
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.
Rumi-san?
[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.]
[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. ]
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. ]
[ Something did happen.
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.
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.
[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.]
It could be something like that, couldn't 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.]
It could be something like that, couldn't it?
[ Not the one you think she is, like I was.
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.
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.
[Joker does the unexpected.
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?]
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?]
We can chat over text, that's fine.
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... ]
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... ]
[I envy himWorthlessNo one will ever know me the way you do and-I'll know you better than anyone else.
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!
I envy him
So worthless.
You're right.
He'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.
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!
[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?
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?
[A year, huh? He'll just file that away for later.]
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...]
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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