[ It's not the same as the fight for his ideal reality. Not at all.
The stakes may be lower, without the fate of the world hanging in balance, but the danger is much closer at hand, clear and present. If he doesn't take Akechi out, he will be brought to the brink of death, perhaps even pushed over it–
And it's fun.
It's fun, throwing both of them bodily to the ground, rolling onto his back and shielding his eyes as he watches that dome of light expand, explode.
It hadn't been fun before, had it? Desperately pleading with Akira, Akechi, the rest of the Phantom Thieves– no, the whole experience had been miserable, even when he thought he was winning. Especially when he thought he was winning. He never wanted to fight, only did so to back up his convictions. Hurting them brought him no joy; it sunk Azathoth's claws deep into his heart to rend it in two, every time they were wounded by his own power.
Had he forgotten what it was like to enjoy the fight?
Had he forgotten this reality? This Akechi?
No– no, Maruki knows he never forgot. He was deep in the throes of his own distorted cognition, and then thrown into a second chance at life he never thought he'd deserve. His mind was protecting him from the memories that were always there, burying them down deep so he could focus on what mattered.
And now that he's back–
What matters is crouching next to him, spitting blood onto the dirt.
Maruki sits up, entire body aching, Azathoth already long gone. ]
I had unfinished business here.
[ And then he reaches out to lightly smack Akechi's arm, unimpressed expression leveled straight at him. ]
There's a weight to those words, that smack - it acts as kindle to a dwindling flame. His chest warm - hot, hotter than ever. He can't stand it.
Coming back for Akechi. As if he made a distinct choice to throw away an opportunity to exist in their true world to come back for a man lost in a false one. As if he needs the goddamn help, the pity.
The mercy.
As if Akechi has ever needed him to succeed. Mind, chest, body burning-
It takes a second for him to shake the stupor and comprehend the full meaning of what he said. It takes less than one for him to push his aching body towards Maruki, lunging to get on top of him and pin him there with his own body acting as dead weight. Exhausted. Furious. Blinding rage consuming him from the inside out. He'll make sure Maruki burns with him. ]
[ Akechi's fingers curl into the damp fabric under him. Sweat. Blood. He hopes it's more of the latter.
I don't expect anything from you an irritating truth that makes this Maruki more real than ever. He presses a hand against his throat anyway - as if trying to shove those words back down his throat. Make him choke on them.
Staying upright is an issue. The hand on Maruki's throat lacks the force needed to break his neck - it ends up resting there, but he shifts, moves, tries to throw his weight there. It's annoying he can still feel the man breathe despite it. ]
I didn't believe it a week ago and I don't believe it now. [ It bothers him in the wake of an unacknowledged loss. He can't stand hearing it. It makes his stomach lurch. ] If you want to stay in my house, I suggest you keep that shit to yourself from now on. I don't want to hear you speak another word.
[ The attempt at a choke lacks any real force to make it so, though the conviction is there. Maruki grips his wrist to drag his hand away, glaring up at him, expression turning sour once more. ]
[ Maruki can drag away his hand, but he can't drag away homeownership.
Akechi smacks it back against his neck every time it's moved away. ]
It was transferred to me after your departure. You should be grateful, unless you were eager to see us cast to the streets. You're welcome to sleep on the road, if you plan to continue questioning my offer.
[ For a few long seconds, that fury persists, wordless and stormy–
And then Maruki laughs, reaching up with both hands to shove Akechi. Not hard enough to dislodge him, not violent – more playful than anything, and a bit exasperated. ]
Fine. You know what, Akechi? Fine. It's your house.
[ He's exhausted, and he still hasn't seen Akira, Adachi... ]
I hope you'll be gracious enough to let me back in tonight.
THIS ENDED UP DUMBER THAN EXPECTED. INCREDIBLE HONESTLY.
[ There's no response to that age old question - Maruki may or may not be allowed. Akechi isn't certain yet. Only knows he doesn't want to hear his goddamn voice. The benefit of having him there is worth more than a moral victory.
He's shoved - Akechi doesn't move. Maruki's going to have to deal with him laying there awhile longer. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
looks away from this so hard my neck cracks
The stakes may be lower, without the fate of the world hanging in balance, but the danger is much closer at hand, clear and present. If he doesn't take Akechi out, he will be brought to the brink of death, perhaps even pushed over it–
And it's fun.
It's fun, throwing both of them bodily to the ground, rolling onto his back and shielding his eyes as he watches that dome of light expand, explode.
It hadn't been fun before, had it? Desperately pleading with Akira, Akechi, the rest of the Phantom Thieves– no, the whole experience had been miserable, even when he thought he was winning. Especially when he thought he was winning. He never wanted to fight, only did so to back up his convictions. Hurting them brought him no joy; it sunk Azathoth's claws deep into his heart to rend it in two, every time they were wounded by his own power.
Had he forgotten what it was like to enjoy the fight?
Had he forgotten this reality? This Akechi?
No– no, Maruki knows he never forgot. He was deep in the throes of his own distorted cognition, and then thrown into a second chance at life he never thought he'd deserve. His mind was protecting him from the memories that were always there, burying them down deep so he could focus on what mattered.
And now that he's back–
What matters is crouching next to him, spitting blood onto the dirt.
Maruki sits up, entire body aching, Azathoth already long gone. ]
I had unfinished business here.
[ And then he reaches out to lightly smack Akechi's arm, unimpressed expression leveled straight at him. ]
That's your new nickname. Unfinished Business.
GOD I CANT BELIEVE U WROTE THIS
There's a weight to those words, that smack - it acts as kindle to a dwindling flame. His chest warm - hot, hotter than ever. He can't stand it.
Coming back for Akechi. As if he made a distinct choice to throw away an opportunity to exist in their true world to come back for a man lost in a false one. As if he needs the goddamn help, the pity.
The mercy.
As if Akechi has ever needed him to succeed. Mind, chest, body burning-
It takes a second for him to shake the stupor and comprehend the full meaning of what he said. It takes less than one for him to push his aching body towards Maruki, lunging to get on top of him and pin him there with his own body acting as dead weight. Exhausted. Furious. Blinding rage consuming him from the inside out. He'll make sure Maruki burns with him. ]
Do you expect me to be grateful? I'm not.
no subject
He should feel frightened, pinned down and stared at by a madman who wants him dead, shouldn't he?
Instead, Maruki only looks up at him with curiosity, and warmth– and exhaustion. ]
I don't expect anything from you. Don't tell me you forgot that after a little more than a week.
no subject
I don't expect anything from you an irritating truth that makes this Maruki more real than ever. He presses a hand against his throat anyway - as if trying to shove those words back down his throat. Make him choke on them.
Staying upright is an issue. The hand on Maruki's throat lacks the force needed to break his neck - it ends up resting there, but he shifts, moves, tries to throw his weight there. It's annoying he can still feel the man breathe despite it. ]
I didn't believe it a week ago and I don't believe it now. [ It bothers him in the wake of an unacknowledged loss. He can't stand hearing it. It makes his stomach lurch. ] If you want to stay in my house, I suggest you keep that shit to yourself from now on. I don't want to hear you speak another word.
no subject
Your house?
no subject
[ Maruki can drag away his hand, but he can't drag away homeownership.
Akechi smacks it back against his neck every time it's moved away. ]
It was transferred to me after your departure. You should be grateful, unless you were eager to see us cast to the streets. You're welcome to sleep on the road, if you plan to continue questioning my offer.
SDGRHLKJ WE CAN WRAP UP... I HATE THIS
And then Maruki laughs, reaching up with both hands to shove Akechi. Not hard enough to dislodge him, not violent – more playful than anything, and a bit exasperated. ]
Fine. You know what, Akechi? Fine. It's your house.
[ He's exhausted, and he still hasn't seen Akira, Adachi... ]
I hope you'll be gracious enough to let me back in tonight.
THIS ENDED UP DUMBER THAN EXPECTED. INCREDIBLE HONESTLY.
He's shoved - Akechi doesn't move. Maruki's going to have to deal with him laying there awhile longer. ]