[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.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.
no subject
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.]