stealhearted | after me comes the flood;

...Yeah. It'd -- be nice to have something to come back to. [ It isn't that he doesn't have that already -- the rest of the Phantom Thieves, or whatever they are in this world -- but he's always wanted Akechi. He's always wanted Akechi, and this Akechi is so -- warm, and content, and easy.

It feels wrong, but Akira wants to drown in it a little longer. He moves his hand, slightly, lets his fingertips fall into Akechi's palm. ]

Something to keep me going if I do have to go home.

[His fingers curl around Akira's immediately, and he sits forward to lean into his line of sight.] ...I don't know if I'll still be in Tokyo, I-- really can't be that picky about universities. I just need prestige and a good program, preferably with as many scholarships as I can manage... [He squeezes Akira's fingers.] I don't even know what I want to do, Akira. You can't plot your future around me.

I don't know what I want to do, either. [ Akira says it a little too heavily, a little too rushed -- Akechi can think it's about his future with probation, or his record, or his parents, so long as Akechi doesn't realize it's about the current delusion everyone but Akira seems to be under the influence of.

It's all truer than he wants it to be. But Akira also knows without a shadow of a doubt, because he's already talked with Maruki --]

You could get into Todai, if you wanted to. You're smart enough -- I don't think scholarships will be a problem for you. Not really. You could go into -- [ Not law enforcement, not detective work, not television; Akira's mind stumbles briefly. ] -- medicine, or law, or... I don't know, spaceship engineering.

I just want to run a coffee shop.

[His expression shifts, and he leans a little further into Akira's vision.]

...Akira, what is this really about? You're not usually so pressed about these things.

[ Akechi is the same in all the worst ways, it seems like. Akira inhales, then exhales; steadies himself. He doesn't want to be having any of these conversations. He wants to be texting Akechi at 2am knowing that Akechi is still awake and getting an acerbic response because Akechi can never seem to just let him stay on read even when they should both be sleeping. He wants to hear the croaked out scream of Loki behind him and know that it's because Akechi is watching his back instead of trying to stab it. He wants to confess that he thinks he's in love with that Akechi, that he flung himself forward and nearly got them both killed because he couldn't handle the idea of Akechi dying.

But he's here, and that Akechi isn't. ]

I'm not sure you'd believe me if I told you. [ Akira offers Akechi a small smile that isn't anything comforting at all. ]

I'll think of a way to say it. I just need some time.

[He wonders, for a moment, if Akira is anxious about confessing how he feels. He's... relatively aware, and reasonably certain he returns the feelings, but it's been a tangled, messy thing that hasn't quite ever come to being spoken.]

[He squeezes Akira's fingers, rubbing his thumb against the backs of his knuckles.] Don't let something fester for my sake, okay? You're so wretched about talking when you need to, sometimes it scares me. I'm terrible with a lot of the more delicate topics, but I do care about you, I just hope you know you can talk to me. [This is a little above your head here, Akechi.]

...I know. And I'm grateful. [ Akira can't imagine having this conversation under normal circumstances. There'd be a lot more insults if he ever went to Akechi for support -- though he thinks Akechi would still support him, even if he acted like it was the hardest thing in the world to do.

This Akechi feels so stripped down and bare, all that anger and hatred removed. It makes Akira's chest twist to think that he could have been this person all along. ]

I think I'm just overwhelmed trying to make sure I don't make the wrong decision for the future.

You don't need to be grateful. Just so long as you understand I'll support you.

[It's sad to consider that it could have been so easy. That if his mother hadn't taken her life, if he'd been able to stay with her, he could have grown up into an openly kinder person. His childhood still hadn't been perfect-- his mother hadn't met Muhen until he was nearly fifteen, and for years they struggled, but they made do. They had love, the most important and integral part missing from Akechi's life prior, so he had grown up softer and sweeter where he was normally barbed and acidic.]

[He'll be furious, and briefly utterly destroyed to realize what he could have been. To be smacked so thoroughly in the face with proof that having support had never been a weakness, but a strength. He knew that, deep down, and always had, but having it so plainly displayed would be impossible for him to swallow.]

[His expression stays neutral, eyes searching Akira's for anything to worry further about, but he knew when to let him slip out of a conversation. Pushing him wouldn't get him anywhere. He squeezes his fingers again.] ...it's hard, but as long as you know you don't have to shoulder the world on your own, I'll let it go for today.

[ Akira wants to laugh, but he thinks the sound would get strangled before he managed to get it out, so he doesn't. The weight of the world is all he has, right now. If Akechi doesn't wake up -- if none of them wake up -- Akira really doesn't know if he'll have the strength to make the decision for them.

If he remembers what really was forever... ]

...Thanks. I'll support you, too. [ Akira always has, other than the murder, he thinks. ]

...This is a little weird, but I've been having some odd dreams lately. [ Akira says it delicately, broaching the subject without broaching it, because if Akechi doesn't want to remember then it's fine. It's fine. ]

So if I text you at 3AM, feel free to ignore it.

[It's more than Akira usually gives him, when he's tangled up like this, he thinks. His whole memory of the boy seems suddenly clouded, and he's not sure if he's remembering things properly, but he takes the notion that he's been having odd dreams and pulls it close, absorbing it and quirking a smile.]

I'll look forward to it, as long as you don't wake me up if I have an exam.

[ What does it say about the two of them that the idea of dating Akira isn't something that remotely wakes Akechi up? Akira doesn't know what to do with that, either, and he adds it to the mental list of "things he has no idea how to cope with".

The list is getting longer and longer, these days. ]

I'll do my best. [ Akira hesitates, and then: ] I can't stay too long, but I did bring you coffee.

[It's rattled his brain, but even in a false reality that paints him happy and adjusted, he's good at hiding things. Something feels wrong, like he's forgotten something important, but Akira being stressed doesn't strike him as odd, only tiring. It's the fact that he's bending to being asked that makes his tongue feel too broad for his mouth.]

Don't waste your time bringing me coffee if you have things to do. [He reaches for the thermos anyway.]

Maybe making you coffee is one of those things. [ It's nicer, at least, than his other options: telling Morgana he's not a human, telling Haru her father should be dead, trying desperately not to meet Wakaba's gaze because she shouldn't even be alive. He'll have to go deal with all of that once he leaves the warmth of Akechi's apartment, and he... doesn't like that.

Doesn't want to, even though he knows he'll make himself. ]

Don't stay up too late with it.

[He sighs, shaking his head with a smile.] I'll be better once I'm more sure of my university pool. You don't have to take care of me in the meantime.

I like taking care of people. [ Which is kind of what's getting them deeper into this whole mess -- Akira wants to take care of Akechi; Akira wants Akechi to be happy; Akira can't work up the nerve to break his reality down and remind him that his mother is dead, that he's a murderer, that he managed to destroy his entire life and hasn't yet managed to pick up the pieces.

Really, Akira wonders at the fact that the real Akechi hasn't turned to anything even more self destructive, now that the murder isn't an option. ]

Especially the ones important to me.

That, I have noticed.

[He claims his offered thermos of coffee, holding it between his hands as if he can feel the warmth through the heat protective walls of the thing, and the smile on his face is startlingly fond.] Don't forget to take care of yourself, too, okay? You're important to people as well.

...Yeah. I will. [ Akira stands up to leave, because he suddenly feels like if he stays any longer he's going to combust. It's -- it's too much. It's too much for him to deal with.

An Akechi that likes him -- an Akechi that's happy -- in a world where no one else needs him. Where Sojiro wants him to stay; where his parents have already moved on; where people are alive when they shouldn't be and everyone is happy.

Akira wonders what it says about him that Maruki couldn't change anything for him. That he's still so aware of everything, that he has to see it and know that it's wrong.

It's wrong. Isn't it? Isn't it? Akira has never felt quite so rotten inside as he does whenever he thinks of turning it back at the cost of the happiness of everyone he cares for. ]

Just text me if you need anything.

The same goes for you. I know you prefer to text than talk.

[That is an invitation to talk to him via text instead of in person, because he wants to know what the fuck your damage is because you are obviously damaged, sir. He is worried. He doesn't even know the half of what he's about to get into.]

I'll keep it in mind. [ Akira doesn't mind texting or talking, so long as it's with someone who doesn't mind carrying the conversation -- but he engages a lot more with Akechi as a general rule, so he's had to get used to talking more.

Which was fine, until his entire world got changed into a bizarre alternate dimension and now he barely knows how to talk to Futaba, much less anyone else. Which becomes rapidly apparent when he goes home and completely fails to function, just a little -- enough for Sojiro to tell him to head to bed early; enough for Morgana to offer to take the couch.

Which. Akira's still not used to the fact that even Morgana's voice is different. He tries bringing up the fact that Morgana should be a cat, and watches the way Morgana gets a vague, distant look in his eyes before laughing it off.

Akira doesn't push the subject. But he does stay awake far later than he should, that night and most other nights, playing around on his phone and reading through an endless amount of news articles, trying to right himself in a world that seems drastically upside down, trying to find what's the same and what isn't.

He feels like there's a ticking clock making him decide on this reality. He should probably talk to Maruki again. He doesn't want to. ]

[He doesn't usually remember his dreams, if he has them.]

[So being nearly trapped in one was so many kinds of unsettling. Everything was strangely blurred at the edges, in a way that alerted him to it being a dream, but it still felt unbearably real. Unbearably so, to the point that when he felt himself point a strangely familiar gun between Wakaba Isshiki's eyebrows, with her staring up at him in something that wasn't quite defiance but wasn't fear, he was confused when he didn't jerk away from the gesture in alarm. That when he pulled the trigger the angle changed, and suddenly he was watching Wakaba abruptly "throw" herself in front of a moving vehicle from somewhere behind a horrified Futaba, he was confused he didn't lurch forward to try and pull her back.]

[He echoed the scream in his head that was Futaba's voice.]

[And then his mother was in his room, had him by the shoulders and was shaking him gently, even though he was sitting up and drenched in a cold sweat. She asked him things, was he all right, could she get him anything, you should really be getting more sleep and stop working yourself so hard, Goro, and her voice sounded strange. Tinny, like a recording in a phone. He didn't remember what her voice sounded like, anymore.]

[What?]

[He allowed himself to curl sideways into her shoulder, letting her voice filter back to sounding normal and only breathing properly again then, letting her hand stroke his hair, between his shoulders, down his spine. The amount of time it took for the sensations to feel like they were actually happening and not a strange, distant memory unsettled him more than he could verbalize. He let her make him tea, sipped it carefully, and urged her to go back to sleep, that he was all right now. He was sorry he woke her.]

[He was sorry he failed her.]

[The back of his tongue tasted sour when he picked up his phone.]

Sorry to text you so late
I

[...]

[...]

[...]

I think I had a nightmare about killing someone.

Edited 2021-06-29 01:51 (UTC)

[ Akira is only half asleep when the text comes in. His phone is still in his hand, so the buzzing wakes him up after the second text rolls in too quickly after the first. He waits, feeling the tell-tale feeling of his blood going too cold and then too hot, flushing through his body with worry and an anxiety he's not used to feeling at all.

Then Akechi admits what the dream was about, and Akira feels his stomach roll so alarmingly he sits up in bed and has to swallow several times before he trusts himself to not be sick.

He opens the messaging app and types and deletes several times --]

~~Who~~

~~Was it~~

~~Are you~~

~~Do you rem~~

Are you okay?

[ It's not enough -- it isn't enough in the slightest. But Akira doesn't know what else is safe to say right now. So -- concern. He shows concern. Because he is concerned. ]

Edited (html and i are feuding) 2021-06-29 02:05 (UTC)

Truthfully I'm not sure.
I don't idis;;u

[His fingers were in the wrong places. He tries again.]

Usually*, I'm sorry
I don't usually remember when I dream.

[He winds up pulled inward in his bed, setting his phone down to take several breaths to try and calm down, but it isn't working. His hands are shaking too much to keep texting without another stupid mistake like before.]

[It was just a slip of his finger, why was that stupid?]

[He swipes Akira's chat ID to the side and calls him.]

[ Akira doesn't answer immediately -- he slips out of bed and locks himself in the less than spacious Leblanc bathroom before he picks up on the third ring. He's pretty sure Futaba has the cafe bugged, and he doesn't want Morgana to hear anything from the couch, and so he's left to trace the patterns on the extremely ancient wallpaper. ]

Sometimes I have these dreams that I'm in prison. [ Akira offers, automatically, as soon as he picks up, like an anecdote can help calm down Akechi. It feels like it isn't enough, given that he knows Akechi is dreaming about real life instead of what-if's; he's dreaming about things he's actually done, hiding behind a thin veneer. ]

Like, fantasy prison. Everything's blue.

[He laughs, sort of-- it's a fragile sound, thick in his throat but there's still some degree of humor to it, and there's shifting as he lays on his side and curls around the phone, putting Akira on speaker.]

Isn't there an English pop song called Blue? Perhaps you should stop listening to strange streaming music.

I feel like that's the kind of thing that would inspire Yusuke. [ Akira knows why he dreams of prison, knows why it's blue -- he wonders if Akechi ever dreamed of the Velvet Room; wonders if it was different for him. Wonders if it would be different now.

Wonders if Akechi could even summon his persona at all, without that anger at an unjust world. ]

Ann said sometimes she dreams about eating food and then right before she bites down she wakes up, so it could be worse. [ It's a joke. He's joking. ]

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