(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!!)
[That fucking meme makes him ALMOST shut off his phone for the night, after his youtube video finishes. Only two hours left of Black Condor's struggle against humanity, but-
[And he's tempted to do just that - not say a goddamn word. His original intent to purchase and avoid any further conversation on it.
A stash revealed, Akechi doesn't rob him blind for it despite his annoyance. He takes enough for three mysterious items - their reveal coming to Maruki about two hours later.
Attachment one - two bowls of instant noodles, Featherman themed. Limited edition. A code for something on the wrapper.
Attachment two - a once 8000 yen fountain pen Maruki had seen through the window of the Otaku Goods Store months ago. They never spoke about it, but Maruki's eyes lingered too long on the glass. The unaffordable item a pipe dream for two people scraping together coins for convenience store meals.]
They had a flash sale. The pen went down to 2000 yen.
[ Maruki genuinely doesn't expect to find out what the money was spent on until he either checks his online banking later, or gets delivered a mysterious package in a few days, or gets beaned with some healing item he didn't know they had, didn't even know existed next time they're trawling Mementos.
The first attachment makes him huff an exasperated, fond little laugh alone in his office. He fucking knew it had to do with Featherman.
[ The first time Maruki made him genuinely laugh, sudden and unexpected and shocking to both of them, and the floodgates it opened for jokes and taunts.
Akechi's birthday, a quiet affair in the apartment, the best takeaway sushi they could afford and back to back horror movies that scared the shit out of Maruki and delighted Akechi.
Weekend mornings when they still haven't slept from the night before, walking back to the shoebox apartment near sunrise with all of their Metaverse wounds healed. The strange mix of utter exhaustion and searing adrenaline that makes it impossible to go straight to bed, so they sit out on the cramped balcony, two cups of coffee and very little conversation, watching the city come to life.
Late nights spent in the laundromat, leaning back on the shitty folding chairs with their feet kicked up on the machines, reading or napping or showing each other stupid posts from the Phansite or Reddit or 2chan on their phones.
The one time Akechi pushed himself to the brink of too far, slivered himself down to the very last of his health in the throes of chaos and took an unexpectedly brutal hit. Maruki had hauled him out of that fight, through the winding halls of that labyrinth of a palace, shoved him into a safe room to heal him to the best of Azathoth's ability. Sat with him as he regained his strength, silently furious and beyond terrified to have seen his partner fall like that. They never talked about it, but the next day Akechi bought him lunch, and it was their last close call. Over a year ago.
February 3rd, twice now, the one day they don't focus at all on their work. He told Akechi early on, the broad strokes of what drives him, and then many months later in a bath house, the full details. Last year, waking up to an empty apartment and a text from Akechi: My apologies, I forgot to inform you of my class trip today. I won't be back until very late this evening. I invite you to take the day to rest before our next infiltration. And this year, just a few months ago, an insistent invitation to Jazz Jin – unnecessary, given how often they end up there without discussion anyway – and a quietly shared story about his own driving loss.
Countless meals, games of darts or billiards or chess, research binges, philosophical discussions, subway rides, shared silent looks over news of the Phantom Thieves' latest exploits, crosswords, theories exchanged and tested and reworked, movies argued through, wounds tended, idle thoughts shared. ]
[ And now this, the same as everything else: An uncomplicated act of kindness, from someone who hasn't received enough of those in his life to another. ]
[Their first meeting had been so fortuitous and well-timed, Akechi still hesitates to believe it was an accident. An act of nature. Of god. Of a cognitive plane they had yet to reach. A Metaverse overlap with a newly awakened man in a world Akechi had found solace in for years. It was brief. A meeting that ended in a random, dingy alleyway with a warning about the dangers of that world. They split. Maruki went back, he knows now, to that shitty shoebox apartment with no room to live. Akechi wandered to a group home too crowded to breathe.
Air was in a one bedroom apartment a subway ride away. He knows that now. Didn't then.
Discussions spurned to life without preamble the second time they met in the depths of Mementos. Maruki's strength grew in such a short span of time that Akechi couldn't help but wonder how, as they ripped a vicious and cruel victory by the skin of their teeth. They spoke, afterwards, mindless small talk turned to intents and goals as they were caught in dead ends and turns. Both pushing forward, unrelenting.
And it continued - time after time. Numbers exchanged, meetups coordinated, discussions turned into playful rivalries, experiments with items and cognitive manipulation.
Akechi told him about the foster home out the blue - unprompted - in one of their first palace runs. Faded edges in a safe room ebbing his own boundaries down. A choice weighing down his soul. A politician reached out after years of Akechi provoking a meeting. Emancipation imminent if he chose to follow through on that talk. Freedom and vengeance a taste away at the cost of much more and-
It sputtered out, like it weighed on his heart for years and a vice grip had forced it out of his chest. An eruption. Stories about being passed around until he was never picked again, living in a dormlike room stifling and cruel, and-
That was it. No plans were offered. Akechi didn't speak of Shido and vengeance. There was an acknowledgement of his words and life, then they moved on. A move appreciated because why it had spilled out, he wasn't sure. It was embarrassing. Pathetic. Forgettable. They moved through he halls with Descartes and different conflicting principles of happiness on the tips of their tongues.
Then another choice appeared on a blistering hot day. An emancipation occurring without a single word being sent back to Shido, the draft acceptance of a new life a button press away on his shitty phone. Akechi never pressed it. Salvation came anyway.
Maruki didn't offer his home. Didn't ask for a thing. A throwaway kid offered unconditional freedom.
A life given back under a tree shading unbelievable heat, though Akechi remembers how his palms felt coated in ice and-
For the first time, Akechi believed in Maruki's dream. He doesn't know how life was placed back into his own hands. Never asked. Never gave it a second thought and instead-
Akechi got a room - his own, for the first time in his life. Maruki moved to the couch. Food on the table - homecooked and store-bought. Arguments over whether Triple 7 or Double 5 had the better onigiri. A plan to stay for a few days turned weeks. Months to years. Ire makes him claim he's going to move out once a month, Maruki wishes him luck and sends a shitty meme about his future roach infested motel room. It always makes him laugh - it's so goddamn stupid.
And sometimes -
He doesn't know how to repay debts without conditions. It took a year for him to realize Maruki wasn't going to hold anything over his head - that there were no terms. No insane asks, only simple routines settled into.
Akechi wonders what price Shido would have wanted for freedom.
He doesn't worry about it, anymore and-
Tempura Udon discount days noted on a cheap calendar, tagging @ doc0203 when his instagram feed updates with iced coffee freebies - stores near shujin the only ones akechi follows on this alt account, cognitive psience takes shared from reddit, taking out the trash before school, quiet birthdays spent with Akechi's own small fund treating Maruki to meals at trendy restaurants, on off hours, so it's just them and-
A fountain pen. A mini-cactus. Akechi's eyes still on a 4D puzzle that caught Maruki's eye because the man offers less than he claims and lies through his teeth at every turn. He watches for flickers of excitement in that expression.
It's a life he wouldn't trade for anything, no matter how many 'shitty roach memes' he ends up saving to his phone. Maruki's photoshop skills are getting worse over time. Akechi's tempted to max out the final card on skillshare graphic design classes for this idiot. It's a good lesson for two reasons.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Not a joke. Have at it.
Then tell me what you bought.
1/2
He reads. Checks the book. Yen in hand.]
I'm not obligated to tell you anything.
no subject
A stash revealed, Akechi doesn't rob him blind for it despite his annoyance. He takes enough for three mysterious items - their reveal coming to Maruki about two hours later.
Attachment one - two bowls of instant noodles, Featherman themed. Limited edition. A code for something on the wrapper.
Attachment two - a once 8000 yen fountain pen Maruki had seen through the window of the Otaku Goods Store months ago. They never spoke about it, but Maruki's eyes lingered too long on the glass. The unaffordable item a pipe dream for two people scraping together coins for convenience store meals.]
They had a flash sale. The pen went down to 2000 yen.
I put the change in your book.
1/3 fuck you
The first attachment makes him huff an exasperated, fond little laugh alone in his office. He fucking knew it had to do with Featherman.
The second, and then its accompanying message– ]
no subject
Akechi's birthday, a quiet affair in the apartment, the best takeaway sushi they could afford and back to back horror movies that scared the shit out of Maruki and delighted Akechi.
Weekend mornings when they still haven't slept from the night before, walking back to the shoebox apartment near sunrise with all of their Metaverse wounds healed. The strange mix of utter exhaustion and searing adrenaline that makes it impossible to go straight to bed, so they sit out on the cramped balcony, two cups of coffee and very little conversation, watching the city come to life.
Late nights spent in the laundromat, leaning back on the shitty folding chairs with their feet kicked up on the machines, reading or napping or showing each other stupid posts from the Phansite or Reddit or 2chan on their phones.
The one time Akechi pushed himself to the brink of too far, slivered himself down to the very last of his health in the throes of chaos and took an unexpectedly brutal hit. Maruki had hauled him out of that fight, through the winding halls of that labyrinth of a palace, shoved him into a safe room to heal him to the best of Azathoth's ability. Sat with him as he regained his strength, silently furious and beyond terrified to have seen his partner fall like that. They never talked about it, but the next day Akechi bought him lunch, and it was their last close call. Over a year ago.
February 3rd, twice now, the one day they don't focus at all on their work. He told Akechi early on, the broad strokes of what drives him, and then many months later in a bath house, the full details. Last year, waking up to an empty apartment and a text from Akechi: My apologies, I forgot to inform you of my class trip today. I won't be back until very late this evening. I invite you to take the day to rest before our next infiltration. And this year, just a few months ago, an insistent invitation to Jazz Jin – unnecessary, given how often they end up there without discussion anyway – and a quietly shared story about his own driving loss.
Countless meals, games of darts or billiards or chess, research binges, philosophical discussions, subway rides, shared silent looks over news of the Phantom Thieves' latest exploits, crosswords, theories exchanged and tested and reworked, movies argued through, wounds tended, idle thoughts shared. ]
no subject
Thank you.
You're an important part of my life too.
1/2
Air was in a one bedroom apartment a subway ride away. He knows that now. Didn't then.
Discussions spurned to life without preamble the second time they met in the depths of Mementos. Maruki's strength grew in such a short span of time that Akechi couldn't help but wonder how, as they ripped a vicious and cruel victory by the skin of their teeth. They spoke, afterwards, mindless small talk turned to intents and goals as they were caught in dead ends and turns. Both pushing forward, unrelenting.
And it continued - time after time. Numbers exchanged, meetups coordinated, discussions turned into playful rivalries, experiments with items and cognitive manipulation.
Akechi told him about the foster home out the blue - unprompted - in one of their first palace runs. Faded edges in a safe room ebbing his own boundaries down. A choice weighing down his soul. A politician reached out after years of Akechi provoking a meeting. Emancipation imminent if he chose to follow through on that talk. Freedom and vengeance a taste away at the cost of much more and-
It sputtered out, like it weighed on his heart for years and a vice grip had forced it out of his chest. An eruption. Stories about being passed around until he was never picked again, living in a dormlike room stifling and cruel, and-
That was it. No plans were offered. Akechi didn't speak of Shido and vengeance. There was an acknowledgement of his words and life, then they moved on. A move appreciated because why it had spilled out, he wasn't sure. It was embarrassing. Pathetic. Forgettable. They moved through he halls with Descartes and different conflicting principles of happiness on the tips of their tongues.
Then another choice appeared on a blistering hot day. An emancipation occurring without a single word being sent back to Shido, the draft acceptance of a new life a button press away on his shitty phone. Akechi never pressed it. Salvation came anyway.
Maruki didn't offer his home. Didn't ask for a thing. A throwaway kid offered unconditional freedom.
A life given back under a tree shading unbelievable heat, though Akechi remembers how his palms felt coated in ice and-
For the first time, Akechi believed in Maruki's dream. He doesn't know how life was placed back into his own hands. Never asked. Never gave it a second thought and instead-
Akechi got a room - his own, for the first time in his life. Maruki moved to the couch. Food on the table - homecooked and store-bought. Arguments over whether Triple 7 or Double 5 had the better onigiri. A plan to stay for a few days turned weeks. Months to years. Ire makes him claim he's going to move out once a month, Maruki wishes him luck and sends a shitty meme about his future roach infested motel room. It always makes him laugh - it's so goddamn stupid.
And sometimes -
He doesn't know how to repay debts without conditions. It took a year for him to realize Maruki wasn't going to hold anything over his head - that there were no terms. No insane asks, only simple routines settled into.
Akechi wonders what price Shido would have wanted for freedom.
He doesn't worry about it, anymore and-
Tempura Udon discount days noted on a cheap calendar, tagging @ doc0203 when his instagram feed updates with iced coffee freebies - stores near shujin the only ones akechi follows on this alt account, cognitive psience takes shared from reddit, taking out the trash before school, quiet birthdays spent with Akechi's own small fund treating Maruki to meals at trendy restaurants, on off hours, so it's just them and-
A fountain pen. A mini-cactus. Akechi's eyes still on a 4D puzzle that caught Maruki's eye because the man offers less than he claims and lies through his teeth at every turn. He watches for flickers of excitement in that expression.
It's a life he wouldn't trade for anything, no matter how many 'shitty roach memes' he ends up saving to his phone. Maruki's photoshop skills are getting worse over time. Akechi's tempted to max out the final card on skillshare graphic design classes for this idiot. It's a good lesson for two reasons.]
die
You're thinking too deeply about it.
You gave me a new notebook last week. I'm returning the favor.
I'll see you tonight.