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fabrications2020-04-26 01:37 pm(no subject)
It starts off with a pair of gloves.
Or rather, it starts off with a singular glove, one missing its mate. Mid June finds Akechi in the middle of moving, packing up his meager belongings in order to move out of his current apartment and into a a significant upgrade, an apartment closer to his university and one where he can more easily separate is sleeping and work spaces. It turns out that freelance work, while rarely as interesting as assisting Sae and the police, is a lot more lucrative even without the regular stream of interviews and appearance fees to keep him afloat.
It also turns out that most of what he has to pack is clothing, and it's in the middle of shuffling through the closet that he finds the lonely glove. He goes looking for the other one for a moment before he remembers, oh yeah. He gave it to (threw it at) Akira, who never got a chance to give it back.
If thoughts can be derailed then surely they can also collide, and a veritable train wreck occurs in the wake of that realization. Akira 'never got a chance' to give it back? No, that doesn't make sense. Akira 'had chosen not' to give it back. Right?
Right...?
It doesn't feel right. Akechi picks up the glove and wanders away from his task, turning the glove over in his hands and his thoughts over in his head. Half of him is going over the many logical reasons Akira still had the other glove. The challenge had never been settled, not really. Even if they're dating now it's not over yet, and likely never real be. It was a symbol, a promise, a reminder, and Akechi expected Akira to hold on to it for the rest of his life.
But the other half of him just can't get past his earlier assumption. 'Never had a chance'.
Even once Akechi returns to the mundane task of packing the thought sticks with him, bouncing around his head until he feels nearly sick with it. It's small, but it's all it takes, and he thinks he must be going insane as his reality starts to fall to pieces around him. He ends up cancelling his date with Akira that night, claiming he feels unwell. It's not a lie, though rather than any sort of physical illness he's only exhausted from piecing together the scraps of memory that are finally starting to come back.
It's harder than it used to be to lie to Akira and the rest of the (former) Phantom Thieves over the next couple of weeks, especially when each new memory he manages to claw out of the fog surrounding him brings a fresh wave of anger. He thinks he does okay but he's certain that Akira, at least, can tell that something is off. He's preoccupied and moody and he's spending less time with his friends (they're not his friends, he ends up viciously reminding himself one day) beyond what can be explained away with a mere preoccupation with work.
He still feels like he's missing big chunks of his memory - his real memory - when he finally goes digging through his things for the lockbox where he stores his handgun. A 'gift' from Shido that he'd never gotten rid of, even once keeping it was pointless. Was that caution, he wonders, or his subconscious reminding him of who and what he really was?
It doesn't matter. He has the gun, he has the silencer, and he has more than enough bullets to take care of some stupid therapist, should the need arise. Part of him, a big part, really hopes it does.
It's pouring down rain the day Akechi decides to break into Maruki's apartment, and he ends up having to take a few extra minutes to make sure his umbrella is properly wrapped and his shoes are completely dry before he enters the building. Getting the front door open is easy (thanks Akira), and finding a spot where Maruki won't see him until he's passed it and turned around doesn't take much time either. Remembering to not take off his shoes upon entering is harder.
But the hardest part is waiting - and convincing himself to not just shoot Maruki the second he sees him. He should at least ask a couple of questions, first.
Or rather, it starts off with a singular glove, one missing its mate. Mid June finds Akechi in the middle of moving, packing up his meager belongings in order to move out of his current apartment and into a a significant upgrade, an apartment closer to his university and one where he can more easily separate is sleeping and work spaces. It turns out that freelance work, while rarely as interesting as assisting Sae and the police, is a lot more lucrative even without the regular stream of interviews and appearance fees to keep him afloat.
It also turns out that most of what he has to pack is clothing, and it's in the middle of shuffling through the closet that he finds the lonely glove. He goes looking for the other one for a moment before he remembers, oh yeah. He gave it to (threw it at) Akira, who never got a chance to give it back.
If thoughts can be derailed then surely they can also collide, and a veritable train wreck occurs in the wake of that realization. Akira 'never got a chance' to give it back? No, that doesn't make sense. Akira 'had chosen not' to give it back. Right?
Right...?
It doesn't feel right. Akechi picks up the glove and wanders away from his task, turning the glove over in his hands and his thoughts over in his head. Half of him is going over the many logical reasons Akira still had the other glove. The challenge had never been settled, not really. Even if they're dating now it's not over yet, and likely never real be. It was a symbol, a promise, a reminder, and Akechi expected Akira to hold on to it for the rest of his life.
But the other half of him just can't get past his earlier assumption. 'Never had a chance'.
Even once Akechi returns to the mundane task of packing the thought sticks with him, bouncing around his head until he feels nearly sick with it. It's small, but it's all it takes, and he thinks he must be going insane as his reality starts to fall to pieces around him. He ends up cancelling his date with Akira that night, claiming he feels unwell. It's not a lie, though rather than any sort of physical illness he's only exhausted from piecing together the scraps of memory that are finally starting to come back.
It's harder than it used to be to lie to Akira and the rest of the (former) Phantom Thieves over the next couple of weeks, especially when each new memory he manages to claw out of the fog surrounding him brings a fresh wave of anger. He thinks he does okay but he's certain that Akira, at least, can tell that something is off. He's preoccupied and moody and he's spending less time with his friends (they're not his friends, he ends up viciously reminding himself one day) beyond what can be explained away with a mere preoccupation with work.
He still feels like he's missing big chunks of his memory - his real memory - when he finally goes digging through his things for the lockbox where he stores his handgun. A 'gift' from Shido that he'd never gotten rid of, even once keeping it was pointless. Was that caution, he wonders, or his subconscious reminding him of who and what he really was?
It doesn't matter. He has the gun, he has the silencer, and he has more than enough bullets to take care of some stupid therapist, should the need arise. Part of him, a big part, really hopes it does.
It's pouring down rain the day Akechi decides to break into Maruki's apartment, and he ends up having to take a few extra minutes to make sure his umbrella is properly wrapped and his shoes are completely dry before he enters the building. Getting the front door open is easy (thanks Akira), and finding a spot where Maruki won't see him until he's passed it and turned around doesn't take much time either. Remembering to not take off his shoes upon entering is harder.
But the hardest part is waiting - and convincing himself to not just shoot Maruki the second he sees him. He should at least ask a couple of questions, first.
fabrications2019-12-30 12:31 am(no subject)
If this is the afterlife, it sure is a shitty one.
But this isn't the afterlife - of that much he's nearly certain. When he'd lost consciousness back in Shido's Palace, headed for an early but deserved grave, numbness had overtaken him just before blackness. When he woke up again with an unfamiliar ceiling above him the pain had come screaming back, leaving him stunned and gasping for breath the moment he tried to sit up. The wound had somehow been closed up, but for a while his body wouldn't be convinced they weren't still dying.
The 'somehow' of everything - his survival, his wound, his arrival, his new tattoo, his new ears and tail - is eventually explained. He'd taken the news about other worlds better than his peers. He'd taken the news that was a 'Fighter', bound to a 'Sacrifice', and that he was to remain in this school until he could prove himself a suitable partner about as poorly as everyone else. Yet when the shouting and quickly quashed attempts to fight back start he's among those that stand aside, his calm, solemn expression betrayed only by his lashing tail and his ear pressing all the way back against his hair. No matter the front he puts up, Akechi feels his peers' rage keenly.
Even so, he doesn't try to escape. He lets someone else make that mistake first, so that he can take note of their shortcomings and the subsequent fallout. After the third such attempt he sets aside the idea of joining in. If he's going to escape it won't be from here and won't be any time soon. He'll need to wait for his partner, whoever that is. Akechi doesn't have much faith in them, not when they're nothing more than a vague feeling of 'someone over there' and the occasional flicker of emotion, but he suspects he'll have better chances when only one person is monitoring him.
Akechi is nothing if not patient, so he settles readily into the waiting game and even makes a few 'friends' once he puts his old charming persona back on, even once they're turned into opponents for one another. He throws himself into his 'studies', quickly mastering the basics of this strange new form of magic and earning himself a rank near the top of his 'class'. The kindness treatment it gets him is a comment from an instructor that Limitless seems to be an apt name, but Akechi had learned a long time ago how to work around neglect from authority figures. While he doesn't have the context necessary to gauge his own progress, he thinks he's adjusting well.
Despite that, he feels terribly unprepared be jolted awake and (almost literally) dragged out of his bed, barely given the chance to change out of his pajamas and back into his uniform before he's shoved out of his room and into the hall. A moment later, the school's intercom crackles to life with an unfamiliar voice.
"Locate your partner and proceed to the front gate. Failure will not be tolerated."
And then the fighting starts.
Akechi doesn't hesitate to distance himself from the chaos the dorm hallway dissolves into, the instincts he honed in the Metaverse serving him well as he slinks through darkened hallways. The assignment is hardly fair - their assailants seem to be seasoned professionals and he's been allowed access to so little of the school he doesn't even know where the front gate is - but rather than fear or anger it's intent undercut with excitement that thrums in his veins. The link between he and his partner seems stronger tonight than it did before, though he's not sure if that's the reality of the situation or just his adrenaline talking. Whatever the case it's suddenly quite easy to follow, a steady thread of guidance that he can nearly see.
Akechi takes a roundabout route through the school, chasing after the sensation of 'someone over there' until it's narrowed down to 'someone right here'. Or rather, 'someone on the other side of this door'. He'd like to take his time and be cautious about entering, but the sound of approaching voices robs him of the opportunity. He yanks open the door, slips inside, and quickly but quietly eases it shut behind him. Even while he does that, he casts his gaze around the room (a library, he realizes), looking for any sign of this new partner of his.
But this isn't the afterlife - of that much he's nearly certain. When he'd lost consciousness back in Shido's Palace, headed for an early but deserved grave, numbness had overtaken him just before blackness. When he woke up again with an unfamiliar ceiling above him the pain had come screaming back, leaving him stunned and gasping for breath the moment he tried to sit up. The wound had somehow been closed up, but for a while his body wouldn't be convinced they weren't still dying.
The 'somehow' of everything - his survival, his wound, his arrival, his new tattoo, his new ears and tail - is eventually explained. He'd taken the news about other worlds better than his peers. He'd taken the news that was a 'Fighter', bound to a 'Sacrifice', and that he was to remain in this school until he could prove himself a suitable partner about as poorly as everyone else. Yet when the shouting and quickly quashed attempts to fight back start he's among those that stand aside, his calm, solemn expression betrayed only by his lashing tail and his ear pressing all the way back against his hair. No matter the front he puts up, Akechi feels his peers' rage keenly.
Even so, he doesn't try to escape. He lets someone else make that mistake first, so that he can take note of their shortcomings and the subsequent fallout. After the third such attempt he sets aside the idea of joining in. If he's going to escape it won't be from here and won't be any time soon. He'll need to wait for his partner, whoever that is. Akechi doesn't have much faith in them, not when they're nothing more than a vague feeling of 'someone over there' and the occasional flicker of emotion, but he suspects he'll have better chances when only one person is monitoring him.
Akechi is nothing if not patient, so he settles readily into the waiting game and even makes a few 'friends' once he puts his old charming persona back on, even once they're turned into opponents for one another. He throws himself into his 'studies', quickly mastering the basics of this strange new form of magic and earning himself a rank near the top of his 'class'. The kindness treatment it gets him is a comment from an instructor that Limitless seems to be an apt name, but Akechi had learned a long time ago how to work around neglect from authority figures. While he doesn't have the context necessary to gauge his own progress, he thinks he's adjusting well.
Despite that, he feels terribly unprepared be jolted awake and (almost literally) dragged out of his bed, barely given the chance to change out of his pajamas and back into his uniform before he's shoved out of his room and into the hall. A moment later, the school's intercom crackles to life with an unfamiliar voice.
"Locate your partner and proceed to the front gate. Failure will not be tolerated."
And then the fighting starts.
Akechi doesn't hesitate to distance himself from the chaos the dorm hallway dissolves into, the instincts he honed in the Metaverse serving him well as he slinks through darkened hallways. The assignment is hardly fair - their assailants seem to be seasoned professionals and he's been allowed access to so little of the school he doesn't even know where the front gate is - but rather than fear or anger it's intent undercut with excitement that thrums in his veins. The link between he and his partner seems stronger tonight than it did before, though he's not sure if that's the reality of the situation or just his adrenaline talking. Whatever the case it's suddenly quite easy to follow, a steady thread of guidance that he can nearly see.
Akechi takes a roundabout route through the school, chasing after the sensation of 'someone over there' until it's narrowed down to 'someone right here'. Or rather, 'someone on the other side of this door'. He'd like to take his time and be cautious about entering, but the sound of approaching voices robs him of the opportunity. He yanks open the door, slips inside, and quickly but quietly eases it shut behind him. Even while he does that, he casts his gaze around the room (a library, he realizes), looking for any sign of this new partner of his.