(you can pm me here or on plurk if you'd like to beforehand, but also if you'd just like to drop something at my doorstep with no preamble please do!!)
Still not enough to make him let go. Nothing will ever be enough to make him do that. But there's no words for the horror filling his mouth worse than blood, the inexplicable grief that twists up his chest when he thinks about how Maruki hasn't called him that in practically a year.]
Why are you calling me that? [It spills out of him like a torrent, like animal instinct.] It's been so long since you've...
[Akira is afraid when he runs away.
Akira is afraid when someone sees all of his vulnerable parts spilling out.
But this is somehow worse than any of it.
They've never forgotten each other since Jeritza's attack; not like this. Even when they completely lose themselves in the roles, the sight of each other is always what brings them back. This, something that's more partial - that's a lot more terrifying. It's like what Akira's witnessed in others, forgetting whole chunks of their lives, outside of the Amplitheater but in a far more permanent fashion.
He doesn't know what to think now. This could be a world layered over the city; there's no way for him to pick it apart, and that means the entire playing field is different. But if they've weathered each other forgetting before...
Akira has to center himself.]
I'm fine. [He doesn't sound fine, but arguably he sounds a little steadier.] Just a plant, I think. There's nothing actually there. [Letting go of Maruki with even one hand is like a physical pain, but he forces himself to just in case- No, just a small bit of blood. Insignificant. Irrelevant. It doesn't even hurt. It's a waste of time when all of it is precious right now, so Akira dismisses it entirely.] You know my name. Do you remember who I am?
[ In those seconds before Akira recalibrates and tries to right himself, Maruki sees him like he never has before. Cornered, horrified, speaking without thinking. It's enough to widen his own eyes, and as he reaches for his erstwhile friend again–
Those walls come back up, if only partially. A mask replaced, if askew.
No. Something isn't right. ]
I could never forget you.
[ To the Akira he left behind on Christmas Eve, those words would hold more weight than he could possibly know. But Maruki has been here long enough to know that even people from the same reality can come from disparate times. It's possible that from Akira's perspective, they've known one another longer – it's been so long since you've... – and perhaps Maruki's been more honest with him. Perhaps this Akira knows at least some of the pain that lies beneath the desperation edging at his voice. ]
I could never forget you, even though every sign points to that he has.
But those words still remain true. That unspoken promise has not been broken. Everything is wrong, maybe more wrong than it's ever been - but Maruki Takuto still recognizes him, no matter the life he's lived.
There's one last question he can ask. One last nail to put in the coffin.
Akira is a realist. He faces what's right in front of him, no matter how dire or bleak. But his heart holds onto hope nearly as hard as it ever holds onto promises.]
I believe you. [He does. He does, even though he still-] But there's still something I have to ask you.
[He has to know.
Is he the same person that he swore to get home and save?
Or is he who he used to know, distortion still trapping his heart in a cage, impossible for Akira's human hands to undo?]
[ The lack of reaction should tell Akira all he needs to know.
For one, two, three seconds, Maruki's expression is entirely blank as the words sink in. City of 7– the way Akira says it, it's clearly something that Maruki should recognize, but nothing gets called to mind at all.
His brows draw down, finally – concerned, confused, curious all at once. ]
I can't say I'm familiar, but I can tell that you are. Why don't you tell me about it?
[ It's not outside the realm of possibility that new arrivals are having their cognitions manipulated, after all. If that's the case, Maruki will help him shake it off. Bring him somewhere safe, make him a coffee, tell him about this reality and what other sorts of terrors they can expect.
He'll carry Akira through this. It's the very least he can do. ]
[It's subtle, but his ears ring. A numbness is pervading his entire body, spiraling out from his chest.
Idly, he wonders if his own is still there as his free hand reaches for one of Maruki's. A specific one.]
...You don't know it.
[He tilts Maruki's hand so he can see the back of it, even though he can already sense what he'll find. As if he believes until the last moment, a corpse will have new life breathed back into it.
His gaze finds nothing but bare skin. No green. No mark.
Not a single tie to who they were, together.]
Of course you don't. [Akira smiles, suddenly, and there isn't a single trace of joy in it. No one but Morgana has ever seen such potent defeat on his face until now.] Not because you forgot. It's because you never had the memories to begin with.
[I couldn't save you.
Saying the words aloud is akin to bursting open a dam.
I killed you.
Pain floods every inch of his body - crushing, tearing, incinerating. The potency of it feels as if it'll tear him in two. For just a second, Akira has to wonder if this is how it felt for Maruki, standing over a sparkling skyline and letting himself feel pain for the first time in years and years. He can feel the memory of that guttural scream reverberate through his chest cavity, agonized as if pain itself would crush him into dust.
I couldn't save you, so I must've killed you.
For all of the pain he's in, Akira only barely flinches. Aside from the haunted look that's filled his eyes, he's done a decent job at not letting anymore of it show up on his features. His eyes lift from that hand and stare into the gaze that he's grown to know even better than he did before.
Concern. Confusion. Curiosity. All of it so terribly, achingly familiar.
I couldn't save you... and to face the "you" that knows none of it is the hell that's been chosen for me.]
You... don't need to worry about it. [He shakes his head, briefly. Tries to smile for real, even though it feels emptier than it's ever been. More hollow than wearing a mask.] I'm sorry. I must've said a lot of confusing and alarming things just now. [He tries to rip the familiarity, the warmth out of his voice, but it's impossible - not with him. Not with Maruki, who has been his ally for an entire year. It's lodged in his chest, a wound that will bleed out if he pulls the debris free.] But it's not anything you have to worry about. I promise.
[There's simply no point in it. If Maruki didn't experience 7, there's no telling what else he hasn't lived through. That part, at least, should become clearer with every answer Akira receives.
To dump all of that on him is nothing but pointless cruelty, and Akira has no interest in failing a second Maruki Takuto.]
Why don't you tell me about... wherever this is? [He pats the back of his hand once, like that's all he'd grabbed it for, before gently releasing it to fall wherever Maruki wishes for it to go. Everything hurts now, so even that miniscule separation can't bother him anymore.] It's not Japan, I think. Did something bring us here?
[Maybe it's a group, like the ones that called them to the Amplitheater. Maybe it's a single being, something with the strength of Yaldabaoth. It doesn't matter. Whatever it may be, before this is over, while there's still rebellion burning a hole through him - Akira will make sure he drags his broken body to it so he can slit its throat.]
[ Maruki's hand doesn't fall. It hangs there in the air, reaching for the warmth that's been retracted, heart thundering miserably in his chest.
It's because you never had the memories to begin with.
Something is missing. Suddenly, some part of him that should by all rights be here to greet Akira is gone, a shard of his soul wrenched out and tossed away. Akira tries to paper over that desolate look in his eyes with confusing and alarming and not anything you have to worry about, and Maruki finds himself adrift at sea, a fear he didn't even know he needed to have suddenly making itself right at home in his heart. ]
No.
[ It bursts out of him too quick, too sharp, hand still hovering there between them.
His brows pull together as he catches himself, awkwardly pulls it back and tries to save face. ]
I mean... yes, something did bring us here, there ought to be a contract in that bag you woke up with, but– no, I am worried.
[ Panicked, almost. Desperation rises in his voice in a way the Akira back home, the one he expected to see here, never would have witnessed before.
But maybe this Akira has. ]
What memories am I missing? Tell me, please, I–
[ I don't want you to ever feel the way I did with Rumi. I can't be the one to do that to you.
His mouth snaps shut, lips pressing into a thin line, eyes wide and pleading on Akira's. ]
[It almost makes Akira break, makes him bend - there's never been a time, even before the City of 7, that Akira wasn't moved to action by Maruki sounding anything remotely like this. He's always had that effect on him, and now is no different.
And he's always listened. Every time Akira exposed a weak, fragile piece of his heart, Maruki accepted it and met him on the same ground, never thinking less of him for it. Always bearing all of the weight that Akira put on him.
They put so much weight on each other, in 7. Maybe the way it all turned out was Akira's karma.
He almost does it, even if it would be wrong. He knows Maruki would accept it. He knows that Maruki would welcome all of his pain into himself.
But Akira tries so, so hard now to be a good person. For more than anyone else, now, he wants to be a good person for Maruki Takuto.]
That weight... That burden... It wouldn't be right, to put any of that on you.
[He doesn't even know how much Maruki knows of the time they shared back home. Even back in 7, their timelines didn't align.
He has to do- something. He has to bring him off of this path, that only leads to pain. It risks bringing on more questions... but maybe the only thing he can really do is offer some of it. A lie is more believable if it's baked into the truth.]
Before I woke up here... In that place, we were under attack. That's why I was asking you things so urgently. But if it's safe here, then... I'll figure out a way back somehow and handle it. You don't have to worry about it, really.
[It isn't an excuse for the yawning pain in his eyes. Undoubtedly, Maruki will have questions.
But he can protect this Maruki from his own failings. He's not so conceited to think of this as a second chance, but rather than that... Akira owes it, to this Maruki, to do well by him.
It's the only thing he has left.]
sobs we can wrap this one up as well i think......
[ Maruki repeats it softly beneath his breath, beneath Akira's further explanation. It must be a world much like this one, then. They've certainly been under attack before. But if it wasn't something Akira's might and his own couldn't overcome together, if Akira was so panicked upon seeing him...
No, the reality Akira came from must be even more dangerous and painful than he could imagine.
Maruki's brow creases as he considers it. What happened to the Maruki Takuto who was under siege with him, then? Is he still there, or was he thrown into his own world? Is his own heart breaking as he looks at a Kurusu Akira who doesn't remember a whole life they lived with one another?
It's an impossible situation, and that calls for an impossible solution.
Maruki draws a deep breath, steadying enough for both himself and hopefully Akira as well, as one hand reaches out to rest over his shoulder. ]
Kurusu-kun... you don't have to tell me more right now, or even soon. But over time, please... tell me as much as you can about that reality.
[ His smile is warm, reassuring, even as he says something he knows he has no control over. ]
The more I know, the more I can help you to get back to where you ought to be. Right? I will. I promise.
The more I know, the more I can help you to get back to where you ought to be.
I understand that I have to earn that, and I will.
He answers because there's something within him that will always rise to answer.]
Alright.
[There will always be twenty-three strings of fate, no matter how much one of them is worn and fraying by Akira's own failure.]
It's a deal, then.
[As helpless as he is to the words that come from his own mouth, he's helpless to the hand that raises to rest on the one holding his shoulder.]
I'll tell you. [Not everything.] Not- Not today. But I'll tell you what I learned. [If I have my way, you'll never know about your blood on my hands.] If there's more than one thing dragging us into different realities... we should compare what we know. There might be a lot we can figure out, if we put our heads together.
[And maybe, maybe one day-
Maybe even if he can never atone for what he's done-
-maybe he'll still find a way to be worthy of walking at this Maruki Takuto's side.]
...We should get out of here, for now. You can catch me up to speed on whatever you feel comfortable sharing as we go.
[And no matter how fast, no matter how slow Maruki walks-
Akira will always be just behind him like a ghost or bit of smoke right out of an urban legend, haunting him alive.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
not anymore i'm not
Still not enough to make him let go. Nothing will ever be enough to make him do that. But there's no words for the horror filling his mouth worse than blood, the inexplicable grief that twists up his chest when he thinks about how Maruki hasn't called him that in practically a year.]
Why are you calling me that? [It spills out of him like a torrent, like animal instinct.] It's been so long since you've...
[Akira is afraid when he runs away.
Akira is afraid when someone sees all of his vulnerable parts spilling out.
But this is somehow worse than any of it.
They've never forgotten each other since Jeritza's attack; not like this. Even when they completely lose themselves in the roles, the sight of each other is always what brings them back. This, something that's more partial - that's a lot more terrifying. It's like what Akira's witnessed in others, forgetting whole chunks of their lives, outside of the Amplitheater but in a far more permanent fashion.
He doesn't know what to think now. This could be a world layered over the city; there's no way for him to pick it apart, and that means the entire playing field is different. But if they've weathered each other forgetting before...
Akira has to center himself.]
I'm fine. [He doesn't sound fine, but arguably he sounds a little steadier.] Just a plant, I think. There's nothing actually there. [Letting go of Maruki with even one hand is like a physical pain, but he forces himself to just in case- No, just a small bit of blood. Insignificant. Irrelevant. It doesn't even hurt. It's a waste of time when all of it is precious right now, so Akira dismisses it entirely.] You know my name. Do you remember who I am?
Do you remember our promise?]no subject
Those walls come back up, if only partially. A mask replaced, if askew.
No. Something isn't right. ]
I could never forget you.
[ To the Akira he left behind on Christmas Eve, those words would hold more weight than he could possibly know. But Maruki has been here long enough to know that even people from the same reality can come from disparate times. It's possible that from Akira's perspective, they've known one another longer – it's been so long since you've... – and perhaps Maruki's been more honest with him. Perhaps this Akira knows at least some of the pain that lies beneath the desperation edging at his voice. ]
Of course I remember you. Why wouldn't I?
no subject
I could never forget you, and it cuts.
I could never forget you, even though every sign points to that he has.
But those words still remain true. That unspoken promise has not been broken. Everything is wrong, maybe more wrong than it's ever been - but Maruki Takuto still recognizes him, no matter the life he's lived.
There's one last question he can ask. One last nail to put in the coffin.
Akira is a realist. He faces what's right in front of him, no matter how dire or bleak. But his heart holds onto hope nearly as hard as it ever holds onto promises.]
I believe you. [He does. He does, even though he still-] But there's still something I have to ask you.
[He has to know.
Is he the same person that he swore to get home and save?
Or is he who he used to know, distortion still trapping his heart in a cage, impossible for Akira's human hands to undo?]
Do you know the City of 7?
wish you hadn't come back to this one king!
For one, two, three seconds, Maruki's expression is entirely blank as the words sink in. City of 7– the way Akira says it, it's clearly something that Maruki should recognize, but nothing gets called to mind at all.
His brows draw down, finally – concerned, confused, curious all at once. ]
I can't say I'm familiar, but I can tell that you are. Why don't you tell me about it?
[ It's not outside the realm of possibility that new arrivals are having their cognitions manipulated, after all. If that's the case, Maruki will help him shake it off. Bring him somewhere safe, make him a coffee, tell him about this reality and what other sorts of terrors they can expect.
He'll carry Akira through this. It's the very least he can do. ]
well. i have bed news for everyone.
Idly, he wonders if his own is still there as his free hand reaches for one of Maruki's. A specific one.]
...You don't know it.
[He tilts Maruki's hand so he can see the back of it, even though he can already sense what he'll find. As if he believes until the last moment, a corpse will have new life breathed back into it.
His gaze finds nothing but bare skin. No green. No mark.
Not a single tie to who they were, together.]
Of course you don't. [Akira smiles, suddenly, and there isn't a single trace of joy in it. No one but Morgana has ever seen such potent defeat on his face until now.] Not because you forgot. It's because you never had the memories to begin with.
[I couldn't save you.
Saying the words aloud is akin to bursting open a dam.
I killed you.
Pain floods every inch of his body - crushing, tearing, incinerating. The potency of it feels as if it'll tear him in two. For just a second, Akira has to wonder if this is how it felt for Maruki, standing over a sparkling skyline and letting himself feel pain for the first time in years and years. He can feel the memory of that guttural scream reverberate through his chest cavity, agonized as if pain itself would crush him into dust.
I couldn't save you, so I must've killed you.
For all of the pain he's in, Akira only barely flinches. Aside from the haunted look that's filled his eyes, he's done a decent job at not letting anymore of it show up on his features. His eyes lift from that hand and stare into the gaze that he's grown to know even better than he did before.
Concern. Confusion. Curiosity. All of it so terribly, achingly familiar.
I couldn't save you... and to face the "you" that knows none of it is the hell that's been chosen for me.]
You... don't need to worry about it. [He shakes his head, briefly. Tries to smile for real, even though it feels emptier than it's ever been. More hollow than wearing a mask.] I'm sorry. I must've said a lot of confusing and alarming things just now. [He tries to rip the familiarity, the warmth out of his voice, but it's impossible - not with him. Not with Maruki, who has been his ally for an entire year. It's lodged in his chest, a wound that will bleed out if he pulls the debris free.] But it's not anything you have to worry about. I promise.
[There's simply no point in it. If Maruki didn't experience 7, there's no telling what else he hasn't lived through. That part, at least, should become clearer with every answer Akira receives.
To dump all of that on him is nothing but pointless cruelty, and Akira has no interest in failing a second Maruki Takuto.]
Why don't you tell me about... wherever this is? [He pats the back of his hand once, like that's all he'd grabbed it for, before gently releasing it to fall wherever Maruki wishes for it to go. Everything hurts now, so even that miniscule separation can't bother him anymore.] It's not Japan, I think. Did something bring us here?
[Maybe it's a group, like the ones that called them to the Amplitheater. Maybe it's a single being, something with the strength of Yaldabaoth. It doesn't matter. Whatever it may be, before this is over, while there's still rebellion burning a hole through him - Akira will make sure he drags his broken body to it so he can slit its throat.]
no subject
Something is missing. Suddenly, some part of him that should by all rights be here to greet Akira is gone, a shard of his soul wrenched out and tossed away. Akira tries to paper over that desolate look in his eyes with confusing and alarming and not anything you have to worry about, and Maruki finds himself adrift at sea, a fear he didn't even know he needed to have suddenly making itself right at home in his heart. ]
No.
[ It bursts out of him too quick, too sharp, hand still hovering there between them.
His brows pull together as he catches himself, awkwardly pulls it back and tries to save face. ]
I mean... yes, something did bring us here, there ought to be a contract in that bag you woke up with, but– no, I am worried.
[ Panicked, almost. Desperation rises in his voice in a way the Akira back home, the one he expected to see here, never would have witnessed before.
But maybe this Akira has. ]
What memories am I missing? Tell me, please, I–
[ I don't want you to ever feel the way I did with Rumi. I can't be the one to do that to you.
His mouth snaps shut, lips pressing into a thin line, eyes wide and pleading on Akira's. ]
Please.
no subject
And he's always listened. Every time Akira exposed a weak, fragile piece of his heart, Maruki accepted it and met him on the same ground, never thinking less of him for it. Always bearing all of the weight that Akira put on him.
They put so much weight on each other, in 7. Maybe the way it all turned out was Akira's karma.
He almost does it, even if it would be wrong. He knows Maruki would accept it. He knows that Maruki would welcome all of his pain into himself.
But Akira tries so, so hard now to be a good person. For more than anyone else, now, he wants to be a good person for Maruki Takuto.]
That weight... That burden... It wouldn't be right, to put any of that on you.
[He doesn't even know how much Maruki knows of the time they shared back home. Even back in 7, their timelines didn't align.
He has to do- something. He has to bring him off of this path, that only leads to pain. It risks bringing on more questions... but maybe the only thing he can really do is offer some of it. A lie is more believable if it's baked into the truth.]
Before I woke up here... In that place, we were under attack. That's why I was asking you things so urgently. But if it's safe here, then... I'll figure out a way back somehow and handle it. You don't have to worry about it, really.
[It isn't an excuse for the yawning pain in his eyes. Undoubtedly, Maruki will have questions.
But he can protect this Maruki from his own failings. He's not so conceited to think of this as a second chance, but rather than that... Akira owes it, to this Maruki, to do well by him.
It's the only thing he has left.]
sobs we can wrap this one up as well i think......
[ Maruki repeats it softly beneath his breath, beneath Akira's further explanation. It must be a world much like this one, then. They've certainly been under attack before. But if it wasn't something Akira's might and his own couldn't overcome together, if Akira was so panicked upon seeing him...
No, the reality Akira came from must be even more dangerous and painful than he could imagine.
Maruki's brow creases as he considers it. What happened to the Maruki Takuto who was under siege with him, then? Is he still there, or was he thrown into his own world? Is his own heart breaking as he looks at a Kurusu Akira who doesn't remember a whole life they lived with one another?
It's an impossible situation, and that calls for an impossible solution.
Maruki draws a deep breath, steadying enough for both himself and hopefully Akira as well, as one hand reaches out to rest over his shoulder. ]
Kurusu-kun... you don't have to tell me more right now, or even soon. But over time, please... tell me as much as you can about that reality.
[ His smile is warm, reassuring, even as he says something he knows he has no control over. ]
The more I know, the more I can help you to get back to where you ought to be. Right? I will. I promise.
alrighty... lemme put a lil wrap on it..........
The more I know, the more I can help you to get back to where you ought to be.
I understand that I have to earn that, and I will.
He answers because there's something within him that will always rise to answer.]
Alright.
[There will always be twenty-three strings of fate, no matter how much one of them is worn and fraying by Akira's own failure.]
It's a deal, then.
[As helpless as he is to the words that come from his own mouth, he's helpless to the hand that raises to rest on the one holding his shoulder.]
I'll tell you. [Not everything.] Not- Not today. But I'll tell you what I learned. [If I have my way, you'll never know about your blood on my hands.] If there's more than one thing dragging us into different realities... we should compare what we know. There might be a lot we can figure out, if we put our heads together.
[And maybe, maybe one day-
Maybe even if he can never atone for what he's done-
-maybe he'll still find a way to be worthy of walking at this Maruki Takuto's side.]
...We should get out of here, for now. You can catch me up to speed on whatever you feel comfortable sharing as we go.
[And no matter how fast, no matter how slow Maruki walks-
Akira will always be just behind him
like a ghost or bit of smoke right out of an urban legend, haunting him alive.]