stealhearted | after me comes the flood;

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after me comes the flood;

[ It starts like this: Akira dreaming that he's in his high school, following a butterfly and feeling the strange tell-tale feeling of the metaverse shifting around him despite the fact that the metaverse should be gone. Akira follows along as best he can when it feels like his body is moving through air denser than ice, and he wakes up with a start to the weirdest day he's ever had in his life -- which is saying something.

So, after some consideration, having talked to his friends and seen how happy they are with what Akira can only assume is some sort of fake reality, Akira settles on the one person that probably can't be fooled either. Akira can't be the only one, right? Akechi could use multiple persona, Akechi was like Akira, so --

He texts him. ]

Hey. Has your day been weird at all?

[ Which Akechi will probably respond to with the most acerbic possible text, Akira assumes, because he can't -- he can't imagine anything else. Even though Akira phrased it like Akechi might not remember, just in case. ]

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[ Akira doesn't quite relax, but he does loosen up a little. It's easy to turn his face into Akechi's thigh and just -- breathe, to let everything fall away for a minute. This is unfamiliar, but it's real in a way that the other reality wasn't, and the strangeness of it is oddly grounding. ]

I'm thanking you for being here. [ Akira says it softly; quietly. He knows this kind of thing makes Akechi uncomfortable, but at the same time, he needs Akechi to know how much it means to him. How valuable it is that Akechi is still here, even despite the past few hours -- weeks -- the entirety of their tumultuous relationship. ]

When all this is over, I'm going to be around so much you're going to be even more sick of me.

I assure you, I am already sick of you. [Such a statement is almost comically put-upon when he's slowly carding his hand through Akira's hair, stroking in as best of a soothing gesture as someone of his disposition can manage.]

I'm not here for your benefit, just so you don't get the wrong idea. [But he doesn't mind having Akira to keep him focused.]

[ Akira rolls over. It's not enough to dislodge Akechi's hand, but it's enough that Akira can look up at him through his lashes. His eyes are still a little red and a little wet, but he's as annoyingly attractive a crier as he is anything else, apparently. He reaches up to touch the tips of his fingers to Akechi's jawline, a faint smile on his face. It's genuine, at least. Fond; a little exasperated. ]

You haven't let me lie to myself, so I'm not going to let you lie to yourself, either. [ Because Akira knows a lie from Akechi when he sees one. He drops his hand to Akechi's shoulder, turning his face back into Akechi's shirt. ]

But it can't wait until we've fixed reality. [ They should maybe not add even more breakdowns onto their list. ]

I didn't ask you to save me, from myself or otherwise, you know.

[Which-- is another lie, really. He did, he thinks, just not verbally. His hand threads back into Akira's hair and he combs it with his fingers, trying to not be extremely annoyed by how pretty he is even crying. Trying, especially, to ignore how soft his fucking lips look.]

I want to. [ Akira closes his eyes and exhales, slowly; it's a little easier to relax, like this. It's a little easier, because Akechi is there, and because the contact is reassuring, and because this is something that Akira hasn't completely destroyed. ]

You might think it's trite, but I think at this point we're entwined in each other another enough that to do one, you have to do the other. [ To be save, you have to save; for either of them to help the other, they have to help themselves. It's circular, but it's weirdly stabilizing. ]

We are pretty entwined, [He offers mildly, twisting his fingers in Akira's hair. He doesn't pull it, just tugs gently, and shakes his head slowly.] I don't know that it's smart for me to linger, once we're through with Maruki.

Because of the conspiracy?

Or because of us? [ Whatever "us" is. Akira isn't really sure. He's not even really sure what he wants it to be, at the moment -- just continued contact with Akechi. Support, maybe. Some caustic comments about his chess skills.

Something approaching a normalcy they never had in the first place. ]

Mostly because of me. [He spits it, closing his eyes and curling his free arm tightly around his ribs.] The conspiracy is overall a non-issue, they can't do any worse than I've already been dealt. I don't want to perpetuate your concept of there being an "us" to cause an issue.

[He says it all in one breath, and when he's done he wheezes softly, swallowing and laying his palm over Akira's eyes.] I haven't allowed myself closeness to others since I was very young. I can't be a part of an "us". [The hand over Akira's eyes becomes important because his eyes absolutely mist over.]

Edited 2021-07-30 21:40 (UTC)

It's just you and me. [ Akira reaches out, drops his hand over Akechi's where it's across Akira's face. It feels like hiding, almost, but Akira isn't sure which of them is hiding. Both of them, maybe. ]

I don't know what "us" means. It doesn't have to mean anything. [ Akira presses down on Akechi's hand, lightly, just enough to give a steady reassuring pressure. It makes Akira's darkened vision light up gold. ]

But I know I want to stay with you.

[He's silent in a way that is telling, because he knows better than to try and talk. His voice would waver, and Akira would worry, and he can't-- won't handle it. He's had enough near-misses, he's coasting on Akira having the knowledge he isn't okay but never quite expressing it fully. He hasn't relied on anyone since his mother, and he won't start now. He draws in a careful breath, holds it, exhales, and repeats the action a few times.]

[It's still obvious how close he came to crying outright because of how obnoxiously blotchy his skin gets, and he's not wearing foundation, but it's fine. It's fine because it's Akira, and his priority is staying, and calling him out on it or otherwise acknowledging his weakness would be the fastest way to be kicked out. He's a clever bastard, even if he isn't always smart.]

I can't promise staying is on the long-term agenda. [He speaks quietly, but evenly.]

Then I'll just have to convince you to let me go with you, huh? [ Akira threads his fingers through Akechi's enough that he can pull Akechi's hand down enough to let his lips skim over Akechi's knuckles. Akira doesn't open his eyes, though -- he'll let Akechi have that much. He understands the need to hide, sometimes. ]

I couldn't convince you of anything last year. [ Akira takes it as a failure, because even if he saved Akechi, it wasn't the way he wanted things to pan out. ]

I'll work extra hard this time, to bring you around.

You don't listen any better than you did last year, so I'm not sure why you're expecting a different result. [Except it's a lie-- he knows it's different now. Backseat though he was for the circumstances before he broke free of Maruki's reality, he can't deny it's something that would have made him happy. Akira makes him as close to happy as he's been in years, he feels almost normal around him. It's easy to spend time with him, to talk to him like he isn't a murderous byproduct of years of mistreatment and things no human being, let alone a child into his teenage years, should have to deal with. If he were to ever have a companion again, an honest one, it would be Akira.]

[His stomach turns, but he curls his fingers into Akira's. It's hypocritical, to say "no" while he behaves "yes", but he hasn't figured out how to be honest on more than an extremely infrequent basis yet. His eyes burn, so he closes them, dropping his head against the top of the back of the couch and sighing.] We've barely been up a few hours and I'm tired again. I've decided I'll blame you for this.

[ Akira can't help but laugh a little at that. It's not much more than a soft chuckle, but it doesn't have that distinctively wet sound that makes it sound like he's on the verge of tears anymore. Progress, he supposes. ]

We stayed up late and got up early. [ Because both of them are incapable of not going at 100% all the time, and they both seem have to chronic nightmares, and that's without tapping in on the psychic dreams that at least Akira has. He wonders if Akechi has anything like them.

He'll ask, sometime that isn't now. ]

We could take a nap. It's barely morning. [ They'd gotten up before most things were even open, after all. ]

[He considers the suggestion for a while, finally moving his hand back into Akira's hair.] We don't exactly have time in spades, right now.

No. But everything I need is open until evening, and Maruki isn't going anywhere. [ Akira offers Akechi a smile when he finally opens his eyes. They're a little red, but he looks a little less like he's on the precipice of a breakdown. ]

Given our current track record, we probably want to be as close to our best as possible when we go up against him.

[Idly, he rolls a bit of Akira's bangs between his fingers, similar to the nervous tic he does with them periodically.] Maybe he isn't going anywhere, but we should still make haste to at least determining his threat level.

[He's exhausted in new ways, but-- it's not like he's never been exhausted before.] Though, I suppose you're still justifiably the Leader, so it's your call.

I don't really want to show up looking like I just cried, so... [ Even in this perfect reality, he's pretty sure Iwai and Takemi would worry, and that's without touching on Maruki -- though at least he'd have a mask for that part. ]

Maybe just an hour.

[He slouches, just slightly, nodding.] Bed's all yours.

...can I just stay here? [ There's an implication there: that he wants to stay where he is, with the constant contact of Akechi. It isn't so much that he cares about the couch as it is that he doesn't want to get up and risk breaking the careful spell he's managed to put his emotions under.

Just in case Akechi has the idea that it's just the couch, Akira carefully entwines his hand in Akechi's shirt. It's -- vulnerable; it's a little more immature than Akira usually lets himself be, but.

Weird times. ]

[His attention moves to that hand, and he blinks, drawing in a slow breath and releasing it in a sigh.] Get up, we'll go to bed. [You are not napping on his couch tangled up in him like this, and neither is he.]

[ It's "we", not "you", so Akira relents a little, slowly sitting up so his blood pressure doesn't bottom out. He hasn't exactly been taking care of himself quite as much as he normally should; eating has been a little mechanical. Maybe he'll make parfaits later. ]

Okay. [ Akira waits, when he stands, for Akechi -- he isn't holding onto him, but he's not confident enough to move and trust that Akechi will follow. It isn't that he doesn't trust Akechi, he's just pretty sure Akechi doesn't trust Akechi not to bolt at the signs of affection.

He does stretch a little. Awkward crying positions hurt even lithe 17 year old bodies. ]

[Good call, because Akechi is simultaneously the only person he trusts, and the person he trusts the absolute least. Everything's oxymoronic, with him, just roll with it. He stands a moment after Akira, not looking specifically at him but waiting for him to lead the way-- he knows where the bedroom is.]

[ Akira does lead the way, after he finishes his stretch. He's a little too long to fit comfortably on Akechi's lap on a couch for too long, but he also doesn't regret it.

Well, he regrets having a breakdown, he supposes. He's pretty at peace with the fact that it got him some vague cuddles, even if only because Akechi was too tired to do anything else.

Akira's coat is still spread out over the bed, and he moves it out of the way. With the warmth of morning -- even in what is arguably one of the coldest months of the year -- Akira doesn't think they need to worry about that, even with Akechi's less than stellar blanket collection.

Also, Akira is a furnace, honestly, even without the added warmth of cat Morgana. ]

You want the side by the door, right? [ You know, because Akira doesn't mind being caged in and Akechi needs to have an escape route planned at all times. ]

[Stop seeing him, goddamn. Quiet, Akechi nods and sits on the side of the bed acquiesced to him, hands and legs over the edge of the mattress and shoulders bunched up near his ears. He stares, largely unseeing, at the floor between his feet for a long time, just... stuck there. He closes his eyes.]

Will you get up on your own, or should I set an alarm?

I'll wake up. I'm not that tired, I'm just... exhausted. [ There's a fine point of difference there, and Akira knows that the words technically mean the same thing -- but they don't. He's not actually suffering in terms of lack of sleep (even though he hasn't been sleeping well), he's just exhausted at the mere idea of existing. ]

I mostly want to not look like a truck hit me. [ Because Akira's glasses don't really do much for "was obviously just crying" face and he does not want to give Maruki that kind of ammunition right now.

Akira lays down, moving until he's comfortable before he finally looks at Akechi, reaching out to grab a fold of his shirt and tug gently at him. He doesn't verbally ask him to lay down, but he is making large puppy dog eyes. ]

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