(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!!)
[ It's a nameless researcher that takes him aside after a grueling assessment. His name covered by fabric that folds into itself when he squats to eye level, arms hanging over his knees. It's casual. It's calm. His lips are moving, but none of it registers over the earsplitting headache pounding in his ears, the hum of computers next to them. He nods all the same, feeling like a dog getting coaxed from a cage. He's probably introducing himself. Akechi can read his nametag later. If he's asking something, Akechi will agree - it doesn't matter what it is.
The researcher claps his hands together, delighted by whatever Akechi's nod signified. Today, tomorrow - he doesn't give a shit when it starts. He only wants a minute to rest in a dark room, deal with the brutal pain in his chest from a psyche tearing itself apart. Even Wakaba provides that much. He's sure this no-name sycophant will do the same.
It's later - he catches that much. Tonight, maybe. This evening. Akechi has nowhere to go but a place he's told is home, so he opts he lay in one of the testing rooms. It's not like anyone else is using it while Wakaba does something. She's a weird woman. Akechi can't say he likes her. Erratic, bizarre, excitable - she cares about results, data and a dream that's unfathomable. A daughter to help. Maybe she's talking to her in the other room - her voice is softer than usual, near inaudible through the wall. It's a voice reserved for people outside of this pristine laboratory and-
It's an alarm's drone that lulls him to sleep and-
A crackle startles him awake, though his eyes must've been open for some time. He's in front of a takoyaki stand, the nameless man beside rambling away, asking something - waiting for a response that doesn't come and laughing it off as he places two orders. He can't see a nametag over his tan jacket and-
He should get gloves. The thought occurs to him as he sits on a bench next to the nameless man, the takoyaki burning his palms through the thin paper bowl. It's not unpleasant. It was his mom or a television PSA that told him it takes 68 degrees to blister skin. He doesn't think it's that hot.
His chest hurts. He's starving. Most of all- ]
You can just tell me what you want. There's no need to bribe me - I'm compensated in other ways.
Maybe it's been too much. Maybe it was too much from the beginning. He hadn't exactly been delighted by the idea of it when it was revealed to him in hushed tones in a secure room, pages and pages of nondisclosures signed and threats lingering in the air. After all, his own research at the university stalled because it was too dangerous, too unethical to experiment with cognitive psience on individuals, even willing ones.
How willing can a young teenager be?
It pushes and pulls in his mind. He does see the other side of it – of course he does. This is important, incredible, groundbreaking research, and it can only go so far while it remains theoretical. Measurable results, practical applications – they're all necessary for the pursuit of further knowledge. But every time he starts to come around on it, he witnesses another assessment that leaves a boy weak and shaking, pained and ill, and his mind jerks violently in the other direction. It isn't right. It's too much, it's too much–
He's not in his right mind when he agrees to meet Maruki after the laboratory has closed for the night. He's still not in his right mind when they do find each other outside the gates, when they ride in silence on the subway, when they walk through the street vendors in Maruki's own neighborhood.
It's a relief when he snaps out of it, color flooding back into his features. Maruki smiles over at him, leans back against the bench as his own takoyaki cools. ]
If you were so easy to bribe that it only took some takoyaki, we'd have another problem on our hands!
[ He pokes one of them, brings it up to blow on. A cautious bite, and it sears his lips instantly; Maruki exhales a soft hot hot hot! as he sets it back down into the paper bowl. ]
Today seemed difficult. I just wanted to make sure you're eating well and getting enough rest. It's easy to let those things fall by the wayside, huh?
[ The sight of Maruki fighting against hot takoyaki -
It shows how much work he needs to do to kill the childish parts of him. He's tried to replace to cartoons with news, online articles about toys with reports on world affairs. He doesn't understand any of it. Much of it. He tries anyway - makes conversation with adults that praise him for being so mature for his age.
But when he hears that hot hot hot, all he can recall is Red Hawk trying to down boiling hot snacks to impress Pink Argus.
He doesn't watch Featherman anymore though. Only once a week. Once a month. Under his covers where he's sure no one can see, even though he lives alone. He deletes the browsing history for those waning checks from Shido's men. He's mature. He's an adult. Featherman won't earn any accolades.
Akechi straightens his back, upright, and plucks it with a toothpick to hold up to his lips. Inhale, exhale - in a few minutes they'll cool down enough to put in his grumbling stomach. ]
I am. There's a checklist I'm supposed to be abide by. You have access to it, don't you? I maintain perfect marks every day.
[ Eight hours of sleep, three nutritious meals, plenty of water, no medication beyond what's handed to him in the lab. Every day he checks it off, no matter how restless his night was, apple slices and konbini onigiri are meals and he drinks water as he remembers. There's always a bottle in his bag.
But maybe Akechi's slipped. Maybe he's trying to coax mistakes out and pull him from the program entirely. Replace him.
Shido wouldn't allow it - there's no way he would allow it.
He might. He could. Maybe he isn't moving as fast as needed-
His fingertips burn red from the takoyaki skin touching it. It's not 68 degrees either. It won't blister. ]
If you're trying to replace me, it won't work. I'm following every protocol.
OH MY GOD LET HIM WATCH FEATHERMAN HE'S JUST A KIDDDDDDD
[ That's a horrifying thought all on its own, and despite the surprised skepticism that colors Maruki's tone, it's a possibility he's considered before. If Akechi is pushed so far that he breaks, or if Shido deems him not useful enough– would they replace him? Where would they find another? For that matter, where did they find Akechi in the first place?
He shakes his head, tongue still tingling painfully. ]
That's not it at all. Although, I guess I'm flattered you think I have that much power...
[ He's easily second to Wakaba, and even she likely couldn't make that call. That could only come from Shido himself. ]
No, I really just wanted to make sure you were alright after that. Does your head still hurt?
As he plucks the boiling hot takoyaki from toothpick and finger to taste - one little bite. The bonito flakes melt in his mouth and he chews on the small piece of octopus he managed to gnaw off.
It's with that surge of energy that he recalls how weird this nobody is. The others pool over computer screens and reports, decipher data and numbers, and leave him to deal with the aftereffects. It's preferable, frankly. They check if he's alive, give him medication sometimes and then-
They're gone.
But this one lingers. Akechi always sees a shadow that he now realizes is this man. The shadow places a hand on his shoulder, his back and helps him up, if needed. Guides him to a bed, a chair, if needed. Rubs his back while he empties his stomach into a toilet, if needed.
He's weird. ]
No, it's always short lived. [ It aches less with every bite he's managing and the fresh air filling his lungs. ] It's been over for some time. [ He fills his mouth with mayo, another small piece of gnawed off octopus - it's hot as hell. Keeps him awake. He needs to think how to word this next question. Make it polite. Inoffensive. Feign that he's concerned about his place in this trial and- ] It's odd of you to worry so much for no reason. You can go on and tell me what really troubles you. I'm a good listener, or so I've been told.
Funny. Really funny, actually. Akechi has no way of knowing just how funny it is, not with how little he knows about Maruki, but–
It wasn't too long ago that he and Shibusawa met for dinner and drinks. His friend's concern for how he had to talk around the specifics of his job melded with memories from their college days, schemes and scams Maruki would have fallen into face first if not for the level heads of those closest to him. A gentle suggestion to give research a rest for a while, maybe try something that still utilizes his skill set without getting him caught up in big money and bigger shadows. Counseling, maybe. He's always liked to listen to people's troubles, hasn't he?
A smile flickers across Maruki's face, because it's funny. ]
Are you? [ He doesn't think Akechi is. He listens to their directions, because he's good at the role they've forced him into, but beyond that? Maruki doesn't look at him and see a kind, empathetic listening ear. ] I'm not so sure you want to listen to the troubles of a middle-aged man. It would bore us both.
[ He stops to bite another takoyaki in half, puffing his breath around it to cool it off before popping the whole thing into his mouth. Chew, swallow, breathe, think. How to approach this... ]
How do you think people find their limits, Akechi-kun?
[ That's a surprising question. One he takes time to mull over.
Matters like this - existence, values, happiness, the pursuit of goals and knowledge. He enjoys it. Gradual searches on different topics and forums have led him to books that go over his head and make him flip through the different teachings of those long dead. This question follows that line of thought and he treats it like another forum query.
He thinks and chews, and chews, and chews until half of his container is empty and the cardboard doesn't burn his palms. ]
By pushing themselves, of course. Mind, body - all of it forced to the brink. I assume most have a goal in mind, whether it's going past that limit for their ego alone or something else entirely.
[ Everyone is different and they mean nothing. ]
What do you think? I imagine your perspective is a unique one, given your position.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
G U N
The researcher claps his hands together, delighted by whatever Akechi's nod signified. Today, tomorrow - he doesn't give a shit when it starts. He only wants a minute to rest in a dark room, deal with the brutal pain in his chest from a psyche tearing itself apart. Even Wakaba provides that much. He's sure this no-name sycophant will do the same.
It's later - he catches that much. Tonight, maybe. This evening. Akechi has nowhere to go but a place he's told is home, so he opts he lay in one of the testing rooms. It's not like anyone else is using it while Wakaba does something. She's a weird woman. Akechi can't say he likes her. Erratic, bizarre, excitable - she cares about results, data and a dream that's unfathomable. A daughter to help. Maybe she's talking to her in the other room - her voice is softer than usual, near inaudible through the wall. It's a voice reserved for people outside of this pristine laboratory and-
It's an alarm's drone that lulls him to sleep and-
A crackle startles him awake, though his eyes must've been open for some time. He's in front of a takoyaki stand, the nameless man beside rambling away, asking something - waiting for a response that doesn't come and laughing it off as he places two orders. He can't see a nametag over his tan jacket and-
He should get gloves. The thought occurs to him as he sits on a bench next to the nameless man, the takoyaki burning his palms through the thin paper bowl. It's not unpleasant. It was his mom or a television PSA that told him it takes 68 degrees to blister skin. He doesn't think it's that hot.
His chest hurts. He's starving. Most of all- ]
You can just tell me what you want. There's no need to bribe me - I'm compensated in other ways.
oh how i hate you
Maybe it's been too much. Maybe it was too much from the beginning. He hadn't exactly been delighted by the idea of it when it was revealed to him in hushed tones in a secure room, pages and pages of nondisclosures signed and threats lingering in the air. After all, his own research at the university stalled because it was too dangerous, too unethical to experiment with cognitive psience on individuals, even willing ones.
How willing can a young teenager be?
It pushes and pulls in his mind. He does see the other side of it – of course he does. This is important, incredible, groundbreaking research, and it can only go so far while it remains theoretical. Measurable results, practical applications – they're all necessary for the pursuit of further knowledge. But every time he starts to come around on it, he witnesses another assessment that leaves a boy weak and shaking, pained and ill, and his mind jerks violently in the other direction. It isn't right. It's too much, it's too much–
He's not in his right mind when he agrees to meet Maruki after the laboratory has closed for the night. He's still not in his right mind when they do find each other outside the gates, when they ride in silence on the subway, when they walk through the street vendors in Maruki's own neighborhood.
It's a relief when he snaps out of it, color flooding back into his features. Maruki smiles over at him, leans back against the bench as his own takoyaki cools. ]
If you were so easy to bribe that it only took some takoyaki, we'd have another problem on our hands!
[ He pokes one of them, brings it up to blow on. A cautious bite, and it sears his lips instantly; Maruki exhales a soft hot hot hot! as he sets it back down into the paper bowl. ]
Today seemed difficult. I just wanted to make sure you're eating well and getting enough rest. It's easy to let those things fall by the wayside, huh?
? yama's fault
It shows how much work he needs to do to kill the childish parts of him. He's tried to replace to cartoons with news, online articles about toys with reports on world affairs. He doesn't understand any of it. Much of it. He tries anyway - makes conversation with adults that praise him for being so mature for his age.
But when he hears that hot hot hot, all he can recall is Red Hawk trying to down boiling hot snacks to impress Pink Argus.
He doesn't watch Featherman anymore though. Only once a week. Once a month. Under his covers where he's sure no one can see, even though he lives alone. He deletes the browsing history for those waning checks from Shido's men. He's mature. He's an adult. Featherman won't earn any accolades.
Akechi straightens his back, upright, and plucks it with a toothpick to hold up to his lips. Inhale, exhale - in a few minutes they'll cool down enough to put in his grumbling stomach. ]
I am. There's a checklist I'm supposed to be abide by. You have access to it, don't you? I maintain perfect marks every day.
[ Eight hours of sleep, three nutritious meals, plenty of water, no medication beyond what's handed to him in the lab. Every day he checks it off, no matter how restless his night was, apple slices and konbini onigiri are meals and he drinks water as he remembers. There's always a bottle in his bag.
But maybe Akechi's slipped. Maybe he's trying to coax mistakes out and pull him from the program entirely. Replace him.
Shido wouldn't allow it - there's no way he would allow it.
He might. He could. Maybe he isn't moving as fast as needed-
His fingertips burn red from the takoyaki skin touching it. It's not 68 degrees either. It won't blister. ]
If you're trying to replace me, it won't work. I'm following every protocol.
OH MY GOD LET HIM WATCH FEATHERMAN HE'S JUST A KIDDDDDDD
[ That's a horrifying thought all on its own, and despite the surprised skepticism that colors Maruki's tone, it's a possibility he's considered before. If Akechi is pushed so far that he breaks, or if Shido deems him not useful enough– would they replace him? Where would they find another? For that matter, where did they find Akechi in the first place?
He shakes his head, tongue still tingling painfully. ]
That's not it at all. Although, I guess I'm flattered you think I have that much power...
[ He's easily second to Wakaba, and even she likely couldn't make that call. That could only come from Shido himself. ]
No, I really just wanted to make sure you were alright after that. Does your head still hurt?
? he's watching da news
As he plucks the boiling hot takoyaki from toothpick and finger to taste - one little bite. The bonito flakes melt in his mouth and he chews on the small piece of octopus he managed to gnaw off.
It's with that surge of energy that he recalls how weird this nobody is. The others pool over computer screens and reports, decipher data and numbers, and leave him to deal with the aftereffects. It's preferable, frankly. They check if he's alive, give him medication sometimes and then-
They're gone.
But this one lingers. Akechi always sees a shadow that he now realizes is this man. The shadow places a hand on his shoulder, his back and helps him up, if needed. Guides him to a bed, a chair, if needed. Rubs his back while he empties his stomach into a toilet, if needed.
He's weird. ]
No, it's always short lived. [ It aches less with every bite he's managing and the fresh air filling his lungs. ] It's been over for some time. [ He fills his mouth with mayo, another small piece of gnawed off octopus - it's hot as hell. Keeps him awake. He needs to think how to word this next question. Make it polite. Inoffensive. Feign that he's concerned about his place in this trial and- ] It's odd of you to worry so much for no reason. You can go on and tell me what really troubles you. I'm a good listener, or so I've been told.
no subject
Funny. Really funny, actually. Akechi has no way of knowing just how funny it is, not with how little he knows about Maruki, but–
It wasn't too long ago that he and Shibusawa met for dinner and drinks. His friend's concern for how he had to talk around the specifics of his job melded with memories from their college days, schemes and scams Maruki would have fallen into face first if not for the level heads of those closest to him. A gentle suggestion to give research a rest for a while, maybe try something that still utilizes his skill set without getting him caught up in big money and bigger shadows. Counseling, maybe. He's always liked to listen to people's troubles, hasn't he?
A smile flickers across Maruki's face, because it's funny. ]
Are you? [ He doesn't think Akechi is. He listens to their directions, because he's good at the role they've forced him into, but beyond that? Maruki doesn't look at him and see a kind, empathetic listening ear. ] I'm not so sure you want to listen to the troubles of a middle-aged man. It would bore us both.
[ He stops to bite another takoyaki in half, puffing his breath around it to cool it off before popping the whole thing into his mouth. Chew, swallow, breathe, think. How to approach this... ]
How do you think people find their limits, Akechi-kun?
no subject
Matters like this - existence, values, happiness, the pursuit of goals and knowledge. He enjoys it. Gradual searches on different topics and forums have led him to books that go over his head and make him flip through the different teachings of those long dead. This question follows that line of thought and he treats it like another forum query.
He thinks and chews, and chews, and chews until half of his container is empty and the cardboard doesn't burn his palms. ]
By pushing themselves, of course. Mind, body - all of it forced to the brink. I assume most have a goal in mind, whether it's going past that limit for their ego alone or something else entirely.
[ Everyone is different and they mean nothing. ]
What do you think? I imagine your perspective is a unique one, given your position.