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[ There was a time when Maruki visited the Enchanted Garden fairly frequently. Curiosity about new arrivals drove him – a desire to help, to be the one to gentle them into a new reality. Even if none appeared, it still was time well spent. He and Akechi had theorized early on in their partnership that areas of particularly concentrated cognitive manipulation, such as the garden, ought to be watched carefully. Maruki has spent countless days there, whiling away the afternoon, taking notes and seeing what he could see.
That habit dropped off a couple months ago. Settling into life in Somnius has meant getting close to people, spending time with them, and his hours of solitude dwindled as a result. Then there were the time rifts, and the closure of his office, and being flung into the war-torn future, and Eren's return – sustained, ever-shifting chaos followed by a period of rest that could only be classified as extremely necessary.
Subaru's return changes things.
It shakes Maruki. He's glad for the return of someone who was becoming a friend. Glad Subaru remembers all his time in Somnius as clearly as if he'd never left. Glad he and Eren have been reunited.
But he'd never expected it. People return, yes, but rarely. He knew Eren would return, yes, because he's Eren. Anyone else–
He has to wonder if there's something happening. Some wavering weakness in the cognition that created this world to hold them all in captivity. He has to wonder if next he'll see Adam, or Vash, or Mikasa.
It isn't hope that brings him back to the Enchanted Garden again, day after day. It isn't curiosity, either. It's only cautious dread.
And for a few days, it yields nothing. He shows up to find the garden empty, sticks around for a few hours and witnesses nothing for enough days in a row that it begins to feel like a sense of security. He's ready to write his gut feeling off as paranoia, free up his afternoons again, but something compels him to keep it up just a bit longer. A week, minimally, just to be sure.
It's there, seated amongst the flowers with his journals and his phones, that he looks up to see a figure so familiar, he could be forgiven for thinking his own cognition has finally broken cleanly in half and spilled out every buried distorted desire, every repressed pain in the shape of the person he's missed most.
His heart thrashes in his chest like birdwings against the bars of a cage. An instant wave of relief that crashes over him and leaves him so dizzy that it feels like nausea instead.
Tall, even with his shoulders slightly hunched. Messy hair, perfectly clean glasses. Missing a bag over his shoulder with a cat, but undeniably, inexplicably, blessedly: ]
Kurusu-kun.
[ He hasn't called that name in half a year.
Maruki feels himself standing before he's realized he's going to. The journals tumble out of his lap, the phones, both landing softly in the grass. His hands at his sides feel numb, and he reaches one out before him as he takes a step forward. ]
You're...
[ It could be a manipulation. A trick Somnius is playing on him for letting his guard down.
If it is, it's one he falls for without hesitation. His expression shifts from blank shock to a smile so wide that it aches, eyes crinkling up with warm delight, a soft and disbelieving laugh escaping. ]
It's really you.
[ My guiding light. ]
That habit dropped off a couple months ago. Settling into life in Somnius has meant getting close to people, spending time with them, and his hours of solitude dwindled as a result. Then there were the time rifts, and the closure of his office, and being flung into the war-torn future, and Eren's return – sustained, ever-shifting chaos followed by a period of rest that could only be classified as extremely necessary.
Subaru's return changes things.
It shakes Maruki. He's glad for the return of someone who was becoming a friend. Glad Subaru remembers all his time in Somnius as clearly as if he'd never left. Glad he and Eren have been reunited.
But he'd never expected it. People return, yes, but rarely. He knew Eren would return, yes, because he's Eren. Anyone else–
He has to wonder if there's something happening. Some wavering weakness in the cognition that created this world to hold them all in captivity. He has to wonder if next he'll see Adam, or Vash, or Mikasa.
It isn't hope that brings him back to the Enchanted Garden again, day after day. It isn't curiosity, either. It's only cautious dread.
And for a few days, it yields nothing. He shows up to find the garden empty, sticks around for a few hours and witnesses nothing for enough days in a row that it begins to feel like a sense of security. He's ready to write his gut feeling off as paranoia, free up his afternoons again, but something compels him to keep it up just a bit longer. A week, minimally, just to be sure.
It's there, seated amongst the flowers with his journals and his phones, that he looks up to see a figure so familiar, he could be forgiven for thinking his own cognition has finally broken cleanly in half and spilled out every buried distorted desire, every repressed pain in the shape of the person he's missed most.
His heart thrashes in his chest like birdwings against the bars of a cage. An instant wave of relief that crashes over him and leaves him so dizzy that it feels like nausea instead.
Tall, even with his shoulders slightly hunched. Messy hair, perfectly clean glasses. Missing a bag over his shoulder with a cat, but undeniably, inexplicably, blessedly: ]
Kurusu-kun.
[ He hasn't called that name in half a year.
Maruki feels himself standing before he's realized he's going to. The journals tumble out of his lap, the phones, both landing softly in the grass. His hands at his sides feel numb, and he reaches one out before him as he takes a step forward. ]
You're...
[ It could be a manipulation. A trick Somnius is playing on him for letting his guard down.
If it is, it's one he falls for without hesitation. His expression shifts from blank shock to a smile so wide that it aches, eyes crinkling up with warm delight, a soft and disbelieving laugh escaping. ]
It's really you.
[ My guiding light. ]
["I wish I could see him, one last time... The person I failed the most."
It spirals out from his mind to his fingertips to his lips, from an owl to clouds, from waking to dreaming, and into a garden that's impossibly beautiful. Not just the beauty itself is impossible; he's almost certain that he's never seen flowers like these before, but maybe Haru...
...
This... isn't the train heading back home. This isn't where he fell asleep, and at his shoulder-
Morgana? Akira doesn't say it out loud, just barely, but his hands grasp desperately for a bag that isn't there. But there isn't even time for any panic to set in, because someone is-
Kurusu-kun.
A voice full of recognition. A voice full of affection. A voice full of joy. A voice, that in another life, would've struck a bowstring in a heart that would sing too many emotions to name.
In this one, it matches a face that Kurusu Akira does not know.
Middle-aged adult, someone that knows his family name. Akira's hackles raise, his shoulders stiffen, even as his voice is carefully forced into Shujin-politeness.]
...Have we met before?
[That should be safe enough, at least until he figures out who this is.]
It spirals out from his mind to his fingertips to his lips, from an owl to clouds, from waking to dreaming, and into a garden that's impossibly beautiful. Not just the beauty itself is impossible; he's almost certain that he's never seen flowers like these before, but maybe Haru...
...
This... isn't the train heading back home. This isn't where he fell asleep, and at his shoulder-
Morgana? Akira doesn't say it out loud, just barely, but his hands grasp desperately for a bag that isn't there. But there isn't even time for any panic to set in, because someone is-
Kurusu-kun.
A voice full of recognition. A voice full of affection. A voice full of joy. A voice, that in another life, would've struck a bowstring in a heart that would sing too many emotions to name.
In this one, it matches a face that Kurusu Akira does not know.
Middle-aged adult, someone that knows his family name. Akira's hackles raise, his shoulders stiffen, even as his voice is carefully forced into Shujin-politeness.]
...Have we met before?
[That should be safe enough, at least until he figures out who this is.]
Have we– what?
[ 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.
[ 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.]
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...
Kurusu, it's me.
Doctor Maruki. Don't you remember me?
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?
[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.]
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. ]
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.]
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?
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.]
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. ]
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.]
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.]
[ 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...
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...
I did...
[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.
[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 has to help.]
So let's try to understand, together.
[ 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.
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.]
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.
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.
Edited 2024-11-08 05:18 (UTC)
[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.]
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.
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)
[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.]
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.]
[ Maruki exhales.
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. ]
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. ]
You saw it, then.
[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.]
[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–
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...
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...
Edited 2024-11-08 11:02 (UTC)
[The world stops.
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."
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.
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.]
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."]
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.]
I hope so, Kurusu-kun.
[ 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.
[ 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.
Edited 2024-11-08 13:15 (UTC)
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