stealhearted | after me comes the flood;

I always thought Robin Hood was who you wanted to be. Or who you might have been, if the circumstances were different. [ Akechi may not say it, but Akira will. He likes this Akechi, the real Akechi, whether he's tired or angry or absolutely defeated, but Akira won't admit even to himself how much he'd like to be swept off his feet sometimes by a heroic figure in white who could chase away his problems with a laser sword. It's a nice thought. When he was a kid, he'd had those thoughts too; the idea of being spirited away to a place where he was valued and loved and could make a difference to someone, a place where people held him when he was scared and were there to help him with his homework. It's entirely too easy to fit Akechi's detective prince persona into that framework. ]

That there was still a part of you that... was some sort of hero. [ Akira regards Akechi very carefully; quietly, knowing he's treading on dangerous ground. ]

I'm sure to you it was paying off a debt, or ensuring a means to an end, but you almost died for all of us. That's pretty heroic, I think. And now you're helping save the whole world for the second time. [ You're helping save me, Akira does not say, because he's afraid Akechi will have second thoughts if he does. That Akira will scare him away with the sheer volume of how much Akira needs him right now, with his steady hands and his predictable anger and the scoff he makes in the back of his throat to deflect surface compliments he doesn't want to hear. ]

[Akechi focuses on watching the onions in the pan to avoid looking at Akira, but he does listen. He always listens, even when he knows the words aren't things he wants to hear. Aren't things he's prepared to hear. He licks his lips absently, shifting his weight back to both feet so he isn't touching Akira, outside of their hands which are still loosely tangled.]

I wanted to be. [A hero. He admits to it, because he figures especially to Akira, it's obvious. Nearly all of them had seen him for what he was by the time he was declaring himself in the engine room, and if Sakamoto Ryuji could figure him out, there was no way Akira hadn't. He lets that be all he says for a long time, trying to not hate the taste it leaves in his mouth too much, and he finally looks up to meet Akira's eyes, if only briefly.] ...I didn't plan for it to be "almost". You misunderstand me-- I wanted to repay a debt, yes, and I knew I could entrust handling Shido to you, but... [He shakes his head slowly.] I don't know that I wanted to die, specifically, but I was so completely and utterly exhausted. I just wanted everything to stop.

[ Akira laughs; it's a quiet, suspiciously wet sound that he doesn't bother to keep the pretense of for more than a few seconds. Akira wants to rest. Akira wants to rest for a few hundred years, at this point; the thought of forcing one foot in front of the other to continue about his day is almost overwhelming if he thinks about it for too long. ]

I've always just... reacted. I make decisions when I have to, when the situation forces me to. Whenever I try to get ahead of things, it seems like it doesn't work out. [ Saving that woman that Shido was terrorizing. Saving Akechi, even if he doesn't really regret that. Saving the world, even if the entire experience was really weird. ]

But I'm really good at keeping going no matter what, I guess. [ He doesn't really sound like he's complimenting himself. It's just an observation: he has been wholly unable to give up even when he should have, probably. ]

We're alike in that way, except that my motivations were always selfish.

[He levels him with a tired, if curious frown.] You're so busy saving everyone all the time, who's going to save you?

Would you kick me out if I said I wanted it to be you? [ It's dangerous, because Akechi doesn't believe he can take care of anything without breaking it. It's dangerous because maybe Akechi can't take care of anything without breaking it. It's too much responsibility and too much heroism for Akechi and too much selfishness for Akira, but he doesn't have the energy to pretend there's any other answer right now.

He wants it to be Akechi. He wants Akechi to need him; he wants to need Akechi; he wants to be able to write away all of their myriad debts to each other in one fell swoop of reciprocity. It doesn't matter if they're needy if they both need the same thing. ]

It's one of those things. People don't notice I need help unless they want to, but everyone wants to have faith that I can manage anything.

But you -- you wanted to beat me, so it was okay if I failed. [ Akira puts the lid on the curry to let it simmer in its own juices a little.

It smells good, at least. ]

And if I failed with you, it made me want to keep trying. [ There's a weight to it there, because Akira feels like he has failed -- quantifiably, objectively, sincerely. But Akechi is here, and Akechi is still going, and it's --

It's one of the only things that's making Akira keep going. ]

[He expected-- maybe not exactly this, but something close to it. He expected at least for Akira to hope Akechi would be the one to catch him when he fell. Akechi only hates the hope and the request because he knows he'd try, and he knows he'd hold it against everyone who didn't try just as hard. It's a possessive thought-- no one sees Akira for what he is the way he does. No one realizes he isn't perfect, realizes he's falling apart without standing on the success and happiness of all his friends.]

[He supposes it takes one actor to see another.]

[He turns his head away and watches the curry until Akira puts the lid over it, humming thoughtfully.] I can at least recognize being a driving force behind your continued action. I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you, though-- I'm hardly stable enough to support myself, so I won't be saving you.

[ Akira removes his hand from the lid before the rattling gives away the way his hands are shaking. It's not... entirely a rejection. Arguably, it's moving forward, for them both to admit that they're complete wrecks and that they need help at all.

It just feels like they still have an insurmountable task ahead of them. ]

You already are. [ Akira squeezes Akechi's hand, almost like an afterthought, almost like he'd gotten so used to their hands being connected that he'd forgotten until it was at risk of being removed. ]

[It may well be the squeeze to his hand that makes him withdraw, pulling his hand free of Akira's and moving past him to exit the kitchen.]

Then you must not really need saving-- unless you mean the me Maruki dreamed up for you was saving you. In which case, by all means, it seems my interest in dying aligns with your interest in being needed, and it's not like I'd know any better after a while, if you let him fully take over. It's hardly even my choice to make, at this point.

...I wouldn't do that to you. [ But it's quiet; it's soft, because Akira almost did. Akira almost let that happen. He wanted so badly to live in that world with that happy Akechi and for it to be enough for the both of them.

It wasn't. He doesn't know what's worse: the fact that he apparently can't be satisfied or the fact that Akechi won't let himself be happy for even a moment. ]

Whatever choice you make, I want you to be able to make them, at least. [ It's Akira's turn to wish he could just Stop. ]

Because that's gone so well, until now.

[There isn't an overt amount of malice in his tone, but the words are harsh enough on their own. He glances over his shoulder with a bland expression, not quite looking at Akira so much as just angling himself toward the kitchen.] Don't decide I'm saving you when I'm clearly not. It's no better than Maruki forcing my hand to be a longtime friend of yours whose biggest point of stress is college entrance exams.

[ Is it that bad? For a moment, Akira looks like he's been struck -- and then he manages to recover, letting his gaze shutter away his feelings as he turns the stovetop entirely off. He gazes unseeingly at the pot for a long moment, and then finally, vaguely: ]

It's ready whenever the rice is done. [ And then he steps away to go to the bathroom, because it feels like there's fire lancing through his skin until he can't breathe through the pain of it. He waits until the door is closed to rock back against the wall and press the heel of his hand into his eyes while he tries to get control over himself.

It's fine. It's fine. It's fine. He just has to do what he always does. He's fucked everything up and maybe it's beyond repair, now, maybe he's lost the only chance at having the first thing he's ever really wanted, and maybe that's his fault for taking so long to decide he wanted it.

It's fine. It's fine. Make a plan; stick to the steps. Don't cause trouble, don't make any demands for yourself --

It takes him longer than he'd like, but eventually, he wraps up all of his feelings and manages to shove them into a lockbox inside of himself. It's fine. He has things to do.

He knows better than to lean on anyone else. ]

[Akechi stays still, not watching Akira but listening to his footfalls until he gets to the bathroom. He knows the layout of his condo, knows the sounds each door makes and where they are spatially within the dwelling. Akira isn't as covert as he would like to be in the way he puts his back to the door-- it creaks, just barely, in its frame.]

[When he comes back out, Akechi has packed two neat portions of rice onto two plates and turns slightly in his direction.] ...come help me with this, I don't know how much you want.

[ Akira keeps almost all of the feelings off his face; his neutral look is back, content and curious instead of anything else. He'd perfected the specific look that made him look unthreatening and casual while he was back in his hometown, and it's easy to fall back on it now, even if it hadn't done so well his first few months at Shujin.

The last thing Akira wants to do right now is eat, but he's still a teenage boy, so he knows he can stack it away. ]

I usually just fill the plate a little. [ Akira demonstrates. A healthy appetite, ignoring that he has no appetite. ]

Edited 2021-07-27 22:22 (UTC)

[Akechi watches, calculating, and reaches out to set his fingers against the back of Akira's hand.] What I said before was uncalled for. [He doesn't apologize, not exactly. But this strangely robotic Akira is unsettling.]

[ Akira looks at his hand for a moment and then offers Akechi a smile. It's -- calculated. It isn't exactly fake, but it isn't exactly a happy smile, either. It doesn't quite reach his eyes, because his eyes betray the fact that he's just exhausted. ]

No, you're right. It's not fair of me to keep trying to make you fit into roles you don't want. [ He'd wanted Akechi to want it, was the thing. He'd wanted Akechi to want him enough that they could at least be --

He doesn't let himself think about it. ]

It isn't, [He agrees, recoiling his hand and portioning himself a much smaller amount of curry onto his plate.] But I also don't need to be so caustic about it. If we're going to coexist, it's best I make an effort to be tolerable.

You're always caustic. [ It's mild; it's a little more genuine, this time, when Akira flashes him a smile. Akira'd always wanted to see that side of Akechi, hadn't he? Well. He should have been careful of what he wished for, he supposes. ]

It's not intolerable. Neither of us are at our best right now.

[He flashes Akira a sort of dangerous leer.]

Then why is it that you hid yourself in my bathroom just now, only to come out wearing a mask you haven't worn in months? Clearly, I'm less tolerable than before.

It isn't you. [ Akira says it very mildly; very calmly. He can't rise to the bait again. He can't let himself get sucked in when he feels like he'll drown if he isn't careful. ]

But you said it yourself. You're not in any condition to be trying to worry about me. So you don't have to.

[ It's so easy, for Akira to just discard himself like that. It's too easy. ]

[They are agonizingly similar. Akechi would much rather be the villain than for Akira to discard himself and demonize his own behavior. He scowls, turning back to the curry and moving away from him.]

Do as you will, then. [Stop making him want to save you, you obnoxious little shit.]

[ Akira... does. There's nothing else for him to do but keep going, now; he can't break down and he can't keep trying to make Akechi be the one to be responsible for him, so he just --

Well, the curry's good, at least. It's not his best work, but it's more than edible, and probably the most palatable thing made from scratch that this kitchen has seen since Akechi moved in. ]

The weapon store, the doctor, and the Velvet Room. Is there anything else we need?

[ If he just keeps going, it'll be okay. ]

[Akechi perches on the arm of the couch to eat his plate, slowly. It's good, but it does nothing to fill the hollow feeling he's creating in his stomach. He chews a moment longer than he needs to, lowering his plate to his thigh and turning to look Akira over seriously.]

...your friends. [It's a dull statement.] I can't be what you need right now, Akira. You need someone to help you in a more substantial way.

[ Akira doesn't want to talk about this, but he's ignoring everything else he wants in this situation. What's one more, at this point? ]

...I think they'll wake up. They're not as quick as you, but they've been noticing the problems for awhile, too. It's still worth making an infiltration on our own, I think, if only to force him into a deadline.

[He had the chance to keep Akira in a more open state, to slowly coax him into treating himself like a human being, and he fucking blew it. He slides off the arm of the couch and pulls a roll of cling wrap out of a drawer in the kitchen, covering his plate of food and setting it in the fridge. He pours himself a glass of water, drinks it slowly, and sets it in the sink.] I'll be ready whenever you finish your food.

Edited 2021-07-27 23:42 (UTC)

[ Akira lost his place in trying to help Akechi, didn't he? It's already gone. He watches him put his food in the fridge instead of eating it and feels the words on his tongue -- comfort or insisting that Akechi eat it or --

but that's not his place, and he can't keep forcing Akechi into roles anymore. Akechi can't be someone for Akira to take care of if he doesn't want to be.

Akira feels like he's made entirely out of broken glass. ]

Sure. [ And Akira does. Finish his food, that is. He finishes it and washes the plate and sets it by the sink to dry and does it all almost mechanically. He doesn't really taste it anymore. He isn't doing it because he wants to, and it sits in his stomach, sour and heavy.

But it's food, and he should eat.

He gets up afterwards and grabs his coat, because there's no point in wasting anymore time trying to play house with Akechi. ]

Iwai's in Shibuya, and Takemi's near Leblanc, so I'll probably go in that order for supplies.

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