[ He's barely been sleeping. Only in fits and starts, an hour here or there– but every night, he lies awake and watches 2 AM come and go, the gouged out hollow in his chest only growing deeper.
He's barely been sleeping, but when he has– when he has, more often than not, it comes on as he stands in Akechi's room, looking over his belongings, silently counting them to make sure none have disappeared. Any sort of tangible tether keeping a fragment of his soul to this reality. Anything to cling to.
He doesn't touch anything, even when dust begins to settle over the books piled at the edge of the bed. Not a thing will be out of place if– when– if Akechi returns.
But he does curl up on the bed, close his eyes, try to remember how to breathe, try to feel a hand between his shoulders that only a child ever felt.
In a dream, his phone buzzes where it lays on the pillow next to his head. In a dream, he picks it up, opens dry, bleary eyes to see Akechi's name lighting up the screen. In a dream–
He sits up too fast, the room reeling around him, stomach flipping and heart rocketing up into his throat.
The phone in his hands is heavy, warm. Real. Too real to be a dream.
He has to be sure. He has to dig nails into his own arm, feel a bloom of pain that will be only a fraction of what Akechi doles out of him if he's real. He has to– ]
At a shrine in Somnius. I'm sure you can manage from that.
[ There's a warning ringing - its persistent shriek enough to drown out the celebratory chatter. Maruki is an enemy. Someone to kill. Someone to harm. Someone to deal with and nothing more.
It's not a new sensation, and it is. Akechi has felt that way since day one. It's only hundreds of days later that he's put on edge from it.
It's not fear - far from it. He's scared of nothing, least of all an adult man with a large ego and a penchant for abusing power. That's not new. It's what he's dealt with every goddamn day.
But he forgot. Maruki forgot. They forgot.
It's the pointless meaning behind reaching out now that makes tension pull his shoulders, back, body taut until it might snap. There's no point.
There's no point to their interaction, their relationship. It only makes sense to take advantage and kill him on the spot when he arrives. Akira might be here. May not be. It doesn't matter to him a promise made and-
That's what Maruki wanted, isn't it? That's what he asked in those pitiful, blinding texts. Akira can't see that. Maybe he can. Akechi sees it. Has always seen it. Will always see it.
But Maruki won't die. Even if Akechi digs his fingers into a beating heart, rips at flesh with his teeth, pulls him apart limb by limb. He won't die in a reality that Akira lives to save him and Akechi won't die because there are puppet masters and gods and worlds that see them as toys.
It's so stupid. He wants to puke. ]
I won't wait much longer.
[ It's stupid - this place isn't reality. A child dozing off in his arms, a man soothing a sobbing child, a hand held down a cliffside, a battle won side by side- ]
I have better things to do.
[ He needs to assess. Needs to leave. Needs to work out this place with a new perspective at the forefront.
All that time wasted being petulant, stroking his own ego- ]
Maruki has to dig blunt nails into his arm again. If it's a dream, it's a stupid one. He can't imagine Akechi would linger there, unless he was angling to see if he could attack Yuraia...
Half-moon welts blossom on his skin as he switches to that tracking app, finally functional once more. It's not a dream. It's not.
He stands up too fast for how his heart is pounding, head dizzy and mind already scattered to the wind. ]
I'm on my way. Don't move.
[ A burst of soft gray feathers lands on Akechi's bed as Maruki takes flight out the window, barely able to think beyond get there fast, get there now.
He does at least have the sense to transform back into himself away from the sight of the church, stumbling to the ground and breaking out into a run the last bit of the way there–
Until he can see him, and he freezes on the spot, stitched-together heart choking up into his throat. ]
Because he doesn't know how to feel about a different captor, a child's savior, the betrayal of an ally, confidant, something akin to-
Not a friend. Not family. Maruki is nothing to him - more than ever, he means nothing to him. It doesn't matter that another reality, another version, was the one behind the events that took place. It was him.
It was him. Could have been him.
So he waits in the uncomfortable, stifling atmosphere of a woman he hopes to kill someday. Waits until the plod of footsteps hits his ears, echoing across the old stone monuments, pounding on the few wooden floorboards and bridges around them.
And it's when he sets his eyes on Maruki Takuto - tired, worn, lost that he's-
Angry. So angry. It crosses his features before that blinding rage can turn into a thought. His jaw tightens, teeth grind together. There's nothing that forms as he stares into the eyes of someone-
That saved him, time and time again. Took care of him. Held him up and pushed him down, far down, completely down, but it's what Akechi wanted and-
Held him up. Kept him up. Akechi didn't want that. He pulled Akechi Goro up from the ashes and gave him a second chance, a second life.
That didn't just happen in the true reality he left. It happened here. Akechi can't stand him. Every finger in his hand might snap by how tightly they're clenched, tucked into his palms.
He's furious and that wrath sharpens his tongue until all that comes out is- ]
I don't need to say it, I suppose.
[ Bitter - so bitter. His tone no different than the day they left, their last conversation, and-
It's not Maruki, not really. It's his ego that makes him think there's any control, but Akechi can't help to dig, and dig, and dig. ]
[ The snap of fury that crosses Akechi's expression the moment they lock eyes is familiar – from this reality, from their own.
It isn't accompanied by licks of blue flame, though. Maruki tenses, hands in the pockets of his coat curling into fists. He can feel his own pulse in his palms, hear it in his ears.
He said he wouldn't apologize for wanting Akechi back, and he won't.
They've both left now. They've both seen what their futures hold.
The next time they leave, it will be together. One would not be able to do it without the other. Akechi has to be here, whether he likes it or not. ]
I told you. I'll take responsibility for it.
[ If that means a bullet lodged between his eyes, so be it. Azathoth is quiet at the back of his skull. He's ready to take whatever is doled out to him; it'll be the very least of what he deserves.
He looks Akechi over slowly, carefully. It's funny, really. Even though Maruki's known the true Akechi Goro since shortly after his arrival–
What he sees now is still different. The set of his shoulders, the narrowing of dim eyes. The way he holds himself, a weight wrenched off his shoulders by a force Maruki had nothing to do with.
In death, there is freedom. Akechi's never been free before.
Maruki will need to learn him all over again. He can only hope he'll be afforded the opportunity to do so. ]
[ Eden, a disgusting perfect world, Maruki at the helm behind a woman's image. An idol ruined him. Power ruined him. He turned out to be exactly the man Akechi expected.
I'll take responsbility for it - as if that changes anything. Akechi doesn't want it. Didn't want it. Didn't spend those final seconds in perpetual darkness awaiting his decision, his choice, his few seconds of control manifest into a moment that culminated a short, vile life. He was dead.
And now he's here, with someone who would take responsbility. Who thinks he can take responsbility. As if he's the one tying and looping string around every appendage, even his own.
What a joke. Akechi bites the inside of his cheek, his tongue. ]
I did. Every disgusting choice you made - I saw it.
[ The rise and fall of Maruki Takuto in a way Akechi had never thought he would witness.
In hindsight-
It's satisfying. He can see the tired lines under Maruki's eyes for what they are. He paid for it all. Lost it all. Lost everyone.
Or so Akechi hopes. He wasn't able to see the aftermath.
He stays in his corner of this hideous shrine - tense, angry, but-
Not attacking. Akira is here. He promised, and it's a part of their deal. Even this one would understand he had to let Akechi Goro die and-
He will abide by those rules made in another world until it's proven otherwise and -
He's strong. He's powerful. He's still Maruki Takuto, full of divine power. He's useful. Still useful. He can be useful. Akechi will use him. ]
I'll be blunt. Whether you feel guilty or have second thoughts, I don't give a shit about any of it. You made your choice, as I made mine.
[ Anything less would be unacceptable. Akechi couldn't stand to look at him if he regretted any part of what he did. He acted, he conquered, he fell. Akechi lived, conquered and perished in the soul of someone he hated most. ]
[ It isn't regret, not really. Maruki feels a tremendous amount of guilt, and perhaps he always will, no matter how far he manages to walk on his changed heart's new path–
But he doesn't regret it. His dream, his promise to Rumi, his desire to help– he could never regret that.
This is just one more way in which he must atone. To regret would be to turn away from his own pain and the pain he caused others, and he can't do that. Not now, not ever again.
A deep, steady breath. His hands relax in his pockets, shoulders dropping down from where they'd tensed up around his ears. ]
Whatever it takes to return home, for good this time.
[ In truth, he'll do everything in his power to not see this reality torn apart at the seams when they leave–
But that's neither here nor there. ]
Akechi...
[ It catches in his throat. An apology Akechi doesn't want to hear. He doesn't give a shit about Maruki's remorse, he just said it himself.
He swallows it back. Approaches it sideways instead. ]
You didn't remember anything while you were there either, did you?
[ It's an ear piercing that starts to hum over static and the few pieces of Maruki's voice that work through -
Rage. Anger. He wants to slaughter him on the steps of a divine, holy place and-
Maruki is here, fulfilling a promise, waiting at the steps of a shrine in another world. Akechi knows no matter what happens he will arrive there on New Years day - alone. Maybe he'll remember why. Maybe he won't. He'll be alone in a place where a promise was made under every false pretense imaginable.
But he came now, despite the danger. He'll come later, despite-
It can't be grief. They don't have that relationship. Even when Maruki rubbed his back, chest, hair smoothed and body soothed at all ages-
No, it's not grief, because Akechi would not grieve him. He's worse than anyone. He's scum. He won't be upset, but he'll show up.
He'll show up. He shows up.
And the audacity of a man who-
Akechi realizes, now, never truly explained what happened. He acted on his urges. Power, ego - there were so many reasons.
Somehow, a loss of memory was the last explanation for it. Akechi isn't sure why he held that level of faith in him and-
He can't speak. He didn't remember either and maybe that's why his fingers dig so deep into his palms that he's sure he can feel blood through his gloves.
It's blinding. His eyes burn. He can't bring himself to blink. ]
If you must know, I didn't.
[ There's no reason to lie. Maruki wasn't important enough to recall. He hopes that stings too.
It stings. It stings. His eyes sting and burn and- ]
It looks like we were both fools, but I suppose it's hardly relevant now. Our outcomes are clear. Our path is obvious.
[ Maruki will ensure this world's destruction as penance. Akechi will get his revenge for once, once, for once in his life he will get his revenge against an unjust world and- ]
But in saying that, I'm not unconvinced there isn't a way to keep these memories. It's not a priority though. The goal is end this madness. That's all.
[ It should sting. By all rights, nothing should hurt Maruki worse than this, the admission that someone so vital to him lost every memory of their strange, volatile, precious time together. There's little that can bring him to his knees as quickly as that, and it has happened time and time again in this reality.
It should sting. The pain should show clearly on his expressive face, give Akechi the satisfaction of having landed the intended blow.
Instead–
For the first time today, for the first time since his disappearance fully sunk in–
Maruki feels the corners of his lips lifting, unused muscles sore beneath the weight of his smile. ]
You're right. We were both fools.
[ It would have been worse if one of them remembered the other. The betrayal and guilt would have seared hotter than the sun's blinding rays that first morning after the coldest day of the year.
If they both forgot, then–
The space between them is evened out. They stand on level ground, facing one another as their whole selves, plucked from the end of the roads they were always destined to walk and set forth on a new path–
Together. ]
I suppose we can look at it as a learning experience now that we're both here again.
[ Carve something new with him, hand in hand with the past. ]
Come on. [ Maruki jerks his head back toward the way he came, the long meandering walk through Somnius and the surrounding woods, all the way back to the machiya. ] Walk with me. There's something else I want to ask you.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ohhHHHHHHH I HATE YOU
He's barely been sleeping, but when he has– when he has, more often than not, it comes on as he stands in Akechi's room, looking over his belongings, silently counting them to make sure none have disappeared. Any sort of tangible tether keeping a fragment of his soul to this reality. Anything to cling to.
He doesn't touch anything, even when dust begins to settle over the books piled at the edge of the bed. Not a thing will be out of place if– when– if Akechi returns.
But he does curl up on the bed, close his eyes, try to remember how to breathe, try to feel a hand between his shoulders that only a child ever felt.
In a dream, his phone buzzes where it lays on the pillow next to his head. In a dream, he picks it up, opens dry, bleary eyes to see Akechi's name lighting up the screen. In a dream–
He sits up too fast, the room reeling around him, stomach flipping and heart rocketing up into his throat.
The phone in his hands is heavy, warm. Real. Too real to be a dream.
He has to be sure. He has to dig nails into his own arm, feel a bloom of pain that will be only a fraction of what Akechi doles out of him if he's real. He has to– ]
Akechi?
[ The message goes through.
It can't be a dream, can it? ]
Where are you?
? DONT BE HATEFUL ITS 2026
[ There's a warning ringing - its persistent shriek enough to drown out the celebratory chatter. Maruki is an enemy. Someone to kill. Someone to harm. Someone to deal with and nothing more.
It's not a new sensation, and it is. Akechi has felt that way since day one. It's only hundreds of days later that he's put on edge from it.
It's not fear - far from it. He's scared of nothing, least of all an adult man with a large ego and a penchant for abusing power. That's not new. It's what he's dealt with every goddamn day.
But he forgot. Maruki forgot. They forgot.
It's the pointless meaning behind reaching out now that makes tension pull his shoulders, back, body taut until it might snap. There's no point.
There's no point to their interaction, their relationship. It only makes sense to take advantage and kill him on the spot when he arrives. Akira might be here. May not be. It doesn't matter to him a promise made and-
That's what Maruki wanted, isn't it? That's what he asked in those pitiful, blinding texts. Akira can't see that. Maybe he can. Akechi sees it. Has always seen it. Will always see it.
But Maruki won't die. Even if Akechi digs his fingers into a beating heart, rips at flesh with his teeth, pulls him apart limb by limb. He won't die in a reality that Akira lives to save him and Akechi won't die because there are puppet masters and gods and worlds that see them as toys.
It's so stupid. He wants to puke. ]
I won't wait much longer.
[ It's stupid - this place isn't reality. A child dozing off in his arms, a man soothing a sobbing child, a hand held down a cliffside, a battle won side by side- ]
I have better things to do.
[ He needs to assess. Needs to leave. Needs to work out this place with a new perspective at the forefront.
All that time wasted being petulant, stroking his own ego- ]
Hurry up.
no subject
The church of the moon?
Maruki has to dig blunt nails into his arm again. If it's a dream, it's a stupid one. He can't imagine Akechi would linger there, unless he was angling to see if he could attack Yuraia...
Half-moon welts blossom on his skin as he switches to that tracking app, finally functional once more. It's not a dream. It's not.
He stands up too fast for how his heart is pounding, head dizzy and mind already scattered to the wind. ]
I'm on my way. Don't move.
[ A burst of soft gray feathers lands on Akechi's bed as Maruki takes flight out the window, barely able to think beyond get there fast, get there now.
He does at least have the sense to transform back into himself away from the sight of the church, stumbling to the ground and breaking out into a run the last bit of the way there–
Until he can see him, and he freezes on the spot, stitched-together heart choking up into his throat. ]
Akechi.
no subject
Because he doesn't know how to feel about a different captor, a child's savior, the betrayal of an ally, confidant, something akin to-
Not a friend. Not family. Maruki is nothing to him - more than ever, he means nothing to him. It doesn't matter that another reality, another version, was the one behind the events that took place. It was him.
It was him. Could have been him.
So he waits in the uncomfortable, stifling atmosphere of a woman he hopes to kill someday. Waits until the plod of footsteps hits his ears, echoing across the old stone monuments, pounding on the few wooden floorboards and bridges around them.
And it's when he sets his eyes on Maruki Takuto - tired, worn, lost that he's-
Angry. So angry. It crosses his features before that blinding rage can turn into a thought. His jaw tightens, teeth grind together. There's nothing that forms as he stares into the eyes of someone-
That saved him, time and time again. Took care of him. Held him up and pushed him down, far down, completely down, but it's what Akechi wanted and-
Held him up. Kept him up. Akechi didn't want that. He pulled Akechi Goro up from the ashes and gave him a second chance, a second life.
That didn't just happen in the true reality he left. It happened here. Akechi can't stand him. Every finger in his hand might snap by how tightly they're clenched, tucked into his palms.
He's furious and that wrath sharpens his tongue until all that comes out is- ]
I don't need to say it, I suppose.
[ Bitter - so bitter. His tone no different than the day they left, their last conversation, and-
It's not Maruki, not really. It's his ego that makes him think there's any control, but Akechi can't help to dig, and dig, and dig. ]
Congratulations on getting your wish.
no subject
It isn't accompanied by licks of blue flame, though. Maruki tenses, hands in the pockets of his coat curling into fists. He can feel his own pulse in his palms, hear it in his ears.
He said he wouldn't apologize for wanting Akechi back, and he won't.
They've both left now. They've both seen what their futures hold.
The next time they leave, it will be together. One would not be able to do it without the other. Akechi has to be here, whether he likes it or not. ]
I told you. I'll take responsibility for it.
[ If that means a bullet lodged between his eyes, so be it. Azathoth is quiet at the back of his skull. He's ready to take whatever is doled out to him; it'll be the very least of what he deserves.
He looks Akechi over slowly, carefully. It's funny, really. Even though Maruki's known the true Akechi Goro since shortly after his arrival–
What he sees now is still different. The set of his shoulders, the narrowing of dim eyes. The way he holds himself, a weight wrenched off his shoulders by a force Maruki had nothing to do with.
In death, there is freedom. Akechi's never been free before.
Maruki will need to learn him all over again. He can only hope he'll be afforded the opportunity to do so. ]
You saw it all, then?
no subject
I'll take responsbility for it - as if that changes anything. Akechi doesn't want it. Didn't want it. Didn't spend those final seconds in perpetual darkness awaiting his decision, his choice, his few seconds of control manifest into a moment that culminated a short, vile life. He was dead.
And now he's here, with someone who would take responsbility. Who thinks he can take responsbility. As if he's the one tying and looping string around every appendage, even his own.
What a joke. Akechi bites the inside of his cheek, his tongue. ]
I did. Every disgusting choice you made - I saw it.
[ The rise and fall of Maruki Takuto in a way Akechi had never thought he would witness.
In hindsight-
It's satisfying. He can see the tired lines under Maruki's eyes for what they are. He paid for it all. Lost it all. Lost everyone.
Or so Akechi hopes. He wasn't able to see the aftermath.
He stays in his corner of this hideous shrine - tense, angry, but-
Not attacking. Akira is here. He promised, and it's a part of their deal. Even this one would understand he had to let Akechi Goro die and-
He will abide by those rules made in another world until it's proven otherwise and -
He's strong. He's powerful. He's still Maruki Takuto, full of divine power. He's useful. Still useful. He can be useful. Akechi will use him. ]
I'll be blunt. Whether you feel guilty or have second thoughts, I don't give a shit about any of it. You made your choice, as I made mine.
[ Anything less would be unacceptable. Akechi couldn't stand to look at him if he regretted any part of what he did. He acted, he conquered, he fell. Akechi lived, conquered and perished in the soul of someone he hated most. ]
We're destroying this world. Do you understand?
no subject
But he doesn't regret it. His dream, his promise to Rumi, his desire to help– he could never regret that.
This is just one more way in which he must atone. To regret would be to turn away from his own pain and the pain he caused others, and he can't do that. Not now, not ever again.
A deep, steady breath. His hands relax in his pockets, shoulders dropping down from where they'd tensed up around his ears. ]
Whatever it takes to return home, for good this time.
[ In truth, he'll do everything in his power to not see this reality torn apart at the seams when they leave–
But that's neither here nor there. ]
Akechi...
[ It catches in his throat. An apology Akechi doesn't want to hear. He doesn't give a shit about Maruki's remorse, he just said it himself.
He swallows it back. Approaches it sideways instead. ]
You didn't remember anything while you were there either, did you?
no subject
Rage. Anger. He wants to slaughter him on the steps of a divine, holy place and-
Maruki is here, fulfilling a promise, waiting at the steps of a shrine in another world. Akechi knows no matter what happens he will arrive there on New Years day - alone. Maybe he'll remember why. Maybe he won't. He'll be alone in a place where a promise was made under every false pretense imaginable.
But he came now, despite the danger. He'll come later, despite-
It can't be grief. They don't have that relationship. Even when Maruki rubbed his back, chest, hair smoothed and body soothed at all ages-
No, it's not grief, because Akechi would not grieve him. He's worse than anyone. He's scum. He won't be upset, but he'll show up.
He'll show up. He shows up.
And the audacity of a man who-
Akechi realizes, now, never truly explained what happened. He acted on his urges. Power, ego - there were so many reasons.
Somehow, a loss of memory was the last explanation for it. Akechi isn't sure why he held that level of faith in him and-
He can't speak. He didn't remember either and maybe that's why his fingers dig so deep into his palms that he's sure he can feel blood through his gloves.
It's blinding. His eyes burn. He can't bring himself to blink. ]
If you must know, I didn't.
[ There's no reason to lie. Maruki wasn't important enough to recall. He hopes that stings too.
It stings. It stings. His eyes sting and burn and- ]
It looks like we were both fools, but I suppose it's hardly relevant now. Our outcomes are clear. Our path is obvious.
[ Maruki will ensure this world's destruction as penance. Akechi will get his revenge for once, once, for once in his life he will get his revenge against an unjust world and- ]
But in saying that, I'm not unconvinced there isn't a way to keep these memories. It's not a priority though. The goal is end this madness. That's all.
no subject
It should sting. The pain should show clearly on his expressive face, give Akechi the satisfaction of having landed the intended blow.
Instead–
For the first time today, for the first time since his disappearance fully sunk in–
Maruki feels the corners of his lips lifting, unused muscles sore beneath the weight of his smile. ]
You're right. We were both fools.
[ It would have been worse if one of them remembered the other. The betrayal and guilt would have seared hotter than the sun's blinding rays that first morning after the coldest day of the year.
If they both forgot, then–
The space between them is evened out. They stand on level ground, facing one another as their whole selves, plucked from the end of the roads they were always destined to walk and set forth on a new path–
Together. ]
I suppose we can look at it as a learning experience now that we're both here again.
[ Carve something new with him, hand in hand with the past. ]
Come on. [ Maruki jerks his head back toward the way he came, the long meandering walk through Somnius and the surrounding woods, all the way back to the machiya. ] Walk with me. There's something else I want to ask you.