after me comes the flood;

[stealhearted]

[ 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. ]

Comments

[stealhearted]

I can't... stop. [ Akira offers, vaguely, closing the bag and hefting it up on his shoulder. It isn't anywhere near the weight it would be with Morgana in it, but -- well. Maybe that's for the best. ]

I always feel like if I stop doing things for a second, I won't be able to get started again. So after you died, I just -- kept going. [ If he's busy enough, the thoughts can't get him. ]

[forfeited]

[He looks sidelong at him, keeping his expression carefully neutral.]

What you did or didn't do in my absence is none of my concern.

[stealhearted]

...I wish I knew what you wanted from me. [ Talking isn't right but neither is staying silent; getting the job done isn't right but neither is avoiding it; whatever Akira does seems like it only ever half lands, like Akechi is willing to receive just enough of it to be annoyed by it.

It's not helping anything. Akira isn't helping anything. He's just -- making things worse.

God, maybe he should let Maruki remake reality, maybe fake Akira would be better at all of this. Akira scrubs at his face and heads for the station. ]

Anyway, guns.

[forfeited]

I want you to stop acting like I'm the perfect final piece of a puzzle you've wanted to solve all your life. [It's quiet, because he isn't entirely sure what he wants from Akira, either-- obviously, from the way he's capricious to an infuriating degree.]

Yes, those. Lead the way..., Though I might stay outside, this time. [Iwai makes him nervous.]

[stealhearted]

You're more like... the cat that keeps knocking the puzzle on the floor when I've finally got the edge filled in.

[ It's exasperated and fond, but it makes him sound a little less like he's four seconds away from giving up entirely.

But it's fine, sort of. Kind of. He knows he can't keep using Akechi as a distraction method. ]

[forfeited]

You already have a cat. Or will, once he's back to normal.

[He realizes with startling clarity that part of why he runs so hot and cold is because he doesn't know how to let Akira be what he wants to be for him, and he's decidedly too scared to learn after he's spend so long being so caustic.]

[stealhearted]

I know. He's basically my best friend, which is probably weird when he's a talking cat, but he also doesn't knock my puzzles onto the floor. [ Akira's smile when he offers it over is too self-aware, a little too sad, a little too frustrated, a little too honest--

But it seems like a safer option than trying to lie, at this point. ]

[forfeited]

I would only knock your puzzles to the floor if you took too long to solve them. There is strategy and finesse to a puzzle, if you leave it too long it's nearly worse than not trying at all. [He doesn't put much thought into the response, and for that it's more chiding than it is terse, and in the ensuing quiet when he's through he seems to realize this and fluster, if only slightly.]

But if your puzzles remaining in tact is such a priority, you'd really best get on with it.