[ The world, or at least this small pocket of it, stills.
The bathhouse is so quiet. It's one of his favorite things about it. The gelfling and goblin inhabitants of Somnius don't work here or visit here; none of the other dreamers seem too interested in it. It's somehow cleanly maintained, yet almost always empty. Silent. Lapping hot water, their own voices, stillness.
It's all he can hear: Akechi's voice and his own heartbeat alongside it, aching with every word.
No pity, no apology, no counseling. With anyone else, it would be an impossibly huge ask. With Akechi– ]
From what little I saw in that lake, it looked as if she did the best that she could for you, despite the cruel and unfair circumstances of our society and how much pain she was in.
[ They hadn't seemed happy, exactly – the strain of their life was present even in the rippling recollection – but the love was there. He could see it plain as day. For what little time Akechi had with her, he would have been loved. That's not nothing.
Maruki observes him for a moment, weighs what he's heard against what he's been told before, and then again against the suspicions he's had since Akechi began to reveal parts of himself outside of his celebrity image.
A day later.
I was too young to recognize what I saw that day.
The prime of his life – he's stuck to that theory on their memories ever since Lioriley revealed to him the function of the Spring back in their reality. The day before discovering his own mother's suicide. How everything in his life must have been colored by that, even if he was too young to understand it– and having seen him, Maruki doesn't think that he was.
A clear delineation between a life before and a life after, wherein nothing will ever be the same or even close. Maruki understands that well. Akechi experiencing that at such a formative age–
Sometimes, there are bits of him around the edges that don't get taped up quite so quickly, or quite so wholly. Maruki would never draw attention to them – not only as a liar recognizing another liar at work, but as a friend. However, he's always wondered. Now they start to make sense.
As do so many other things. ]
You don't have to answer this. I don't take lightly the trust that you've put in me to tell me what you have so far, and if that's where it ends, I won't speak of it again.
[ His voice is quiet. Not in the soft, gentle tones of a counselor, or even a sympathetic friendly ear outside of that. Not cloying in the way that he sometimes uses to pry for information. Not overly grave, as if whatever he hears next will shake his bleeding heart even harder.
Simply quiet. Kind but serious. Unwavering. ]
Where did you go to live after that?
[ A father is clearly not in the picture. Grandparents might be the next logical conclusion, but it doesn't sound as if they had any outside familial support at their disposal. An aunt, an uncle, a well meaning family friend – out of the question for someone in her profession.
He knows how their society works. He can guess the answer. But if Akechi will allow it, he wants to hear it confirmed. ]
cw suicide talk
The bathhouse is so quiet. It's one of his favorite things about it. The gelfling and goblin inhabitants of Somnius don't work here or visit here; none of the other dreamers seem too interested in it. It's somehow cleanly maintained, yet almost always empty. Silent. Lapping hot water, their own voices, stillness.
It's all he can hear: Akechi's voice and his own heartbeat alongside it, aching with every word.
No pity, no apology, no counseling. With anyone else, it would be an impossibly huge ask. With Akechi– ]
From what little I saw in that lake, it looked as if she did the best that she could for you, despite the cruel and unfair circumstances of our society and how much pain she was in.
[ They hadn't seemed happy, exactly – the strain of their life was present even in the rippling recollection – but the love was there. He could see it plain as day. For what little time Akechi had with her, he would have been loved. That's not nothing.
Maruki observes him for a moment, weighs what he's heard against what he's been told before, and then again against the suspicions he's had since Akechi began to reveal parts of himself outside of his celebrity image.
A day later.
I was too young to recognize what I saw that day.
The prime of his life – he's stuck to that theory on their memories ever since Lioriley revealed to him the function of the Spring back in their reality. The day before discovering his own mother's suicide. How everything in his life must have been colored by that, even if he was too young to understand it– and having seen him, Maruki doesn't think that he was.
A clear delineation between a life before and a life after, wherein nothing will ever be the same or even close. Maruki understands that well. Akechi experiencing that at such a formative age–
Sometimes, there are bits of him around the edges that don't get taped up quite so quickly, or quite so wholly. Maruki would never draw attention to them – not only as a liar recognizing another liar at work, but as a friend. However, he's always wondered. Now they start to make sense.
As do so many other things. ]
You don't have to answer this. I don't take lightly the trust that you've put in me to tell me what you have so far, and if that's where it ends, I won't speak of it again.
[ His voice is quiet. Not in the soft, gentle tones of a counselor, or even a sympathetic friendly ear outside of that. Not cloying in the way that he sometimes uses to pry for information. Not overly grave, as if whatever he hears next will shake his bleeding heart even harder.
Simply quiet. Kind but serious. Unwavering. ]
Where did you go to live after that?
[ A father is clearly not in the picture. Grandparents might be the next logical conclusion, but it doesn't sound as if they had any outside familial support at their disposal. An aunt, an uncle, a well meaning family friend – out of the question for someone in her profession.
He knows how their society works. He can guess the answer. But if Akechi will allow it, he wants to hear it confirmed. ]