[“Surface level.” Right. If he says so. Aubrey’s hands close in her lap, slow but tight, and she’s got half a mind to—
[Hell. She’ll never be satisfied.
[All at once she leans back, sighing, kicking her feet up on the table and crossing them. If it knocks over his mug, oops. Aubrey plans her chin on her hand and her elbow on the chair.]
[She's annoyed - he could care less. The cup topples over and spills what remains.
How fucking poetic. Akechi doesn't bother it and hopes it slides off the table.]
You'll have to forgive me, as I don't often talk about this. It's somewhat of a sore subject for me, but perhaps it will offer more than a simple 'yes' or 'no'.
[And that, in fact, is the truth - the topic is raw despite the months that past. Still makes his stomach churn.]
You already know I have difficulty making friends and it's always been that way, but I did have one - a boy around my age. We met while I was being interviewed on TV. He was in the audience. We disagreed on the topic immediately.
In fact, in every meetup after, we disagreed and debated over almost everything. It was-
Nice. I truly enjoyed every chat we had, even the outcome didn't end in my favor. We met often, at the place he lived and in areas I enjoyed. Even in silence, the moments were never dull. It always felt like a symbiotic relationship - a type of mutualism formed from a desire to make the other stronger. To prove ourselves to each other.
[But no one's more powerful than a bullet to the skull - not even the illustrious leader himself.
Akechi wants to puke. The castle walls trickled with the same red splatters in Maruki's memory, in Joker's steel coated coffin.]
We even tested our strength in more traditional ways - competition didn't end with words. Our rivalry went beyond what most would consider normal.
[In the end -
What's the goddamn point of telling Aubrey this.
It's the same way he spewed out his mother's history, the foster homes, in a worn bathhouse. The way he uttered out shit at LeBlanc's counter in moments of heavy silence. In the alleyway whispers, conversations under the dim light of a flickering jazz club's bulb.
He stretches his legs out - leans back against the couch again. The cup falls from the table with that movement. Good.]
In my entire life, he was the only person I ever connected with beyond a superficial level.
[She thinks, at first, that it’s more bullshit. Ooh, a sore subject; what, like Robin Hood? Tell her more—
[He has her at “did have one.”
[“Did.”
[Aubrey takes her feet off the table. She leans forward again, slowly. Doesn’t realize she’s doing it.
[Never a dull moment. A bond forged by challenge—more than words. A refusal to see the other quit. A rival. A living space. A friend. Talks into the night. Worse.
[Gone.]
…Hey.
[Quiet, now. Soft. He sinks into the couch. Aubrey glances at the fallen cup, not focused on it; a courtesy, not to watch him.]
[It's disgusting how similar they are at times - a boy who understood too little, too late and a girl who understands nothing at all.
She's still here. He doesn't know how to feel about it - a pounding headache is what he chooses to concentrate on.]
He was special. Someone I couldn't stand to lose to - ever.
[Joker meant nothing to him. Everything. Drove him to maddening depths that were thrilling and frustrating with every challenge thrown Akechi's way. In whatever remains of his short life, he will never find another person that compares to the leader of the Phantom Thieves.
An easy smile is plastered on. This entire goddamn ordeal is uncomfortable and irritating. No more forest adventures if the outcome requires a conversation like this.
He hates Aubrey.]
That's all I had to say. Sometimes I get carried away when I talk - my apologies. You're welcome to stay or leave as you see fit. If you're willing, Maruki-san will be up soon and I'm sure he would be happy to provide breakfast for you.
[She wonders if it killed him. Couldn’t stand to lose…
[Dismissed. Akechi’s used this little… apology, wave-off, before. Aubrey has let him have it, because that’s what decent friends do, she feels; give people space, if they need it, and it’s not, y’know, life-threatening.
[No one ever said she was a good friend. Not like that.]
Don’t apologize. [Less soft. Eyes back up.] I mean that.
[Without much pause:] You know… [It’s funny. She was thinking of a story, too. Doesn’t feel like it matters now, though, not enough to mention—but there was a point to it.]
I’m really sick of people feeling like they have to lie. Pretending shit’s okay when it’s not, and… the way that all breaks down. [“People,” “they.” It’s not just them.]
I think you’re better than that. [Can be. Will be.] And, hey. I’ll be honest with you. No matter what you’d answered, I—
I care about you anyway. [She reaches over, pats his shoulder twice with all the briskness of a nudge from the lake, and gets up herself.]
['Don't apologize' - as if his words aren't a placating buffer full of feigned sincerity. Like she needs to truly assuage him of the guilt of speaking and-
The intent behind her rough response is clear - don't lie, talk to me. This is a spat between friends and not smoothing over a potential murder attempt.
His palms burn - his fingers clench into fists over his knees. Annoying.]
I see. [Neutral - a crisis averted, a resource kept, an ally confirmed.] You're a better person than I am. I appreciate your understanding of the matter and the offer. It won't be something I forget.
['Jackass']
I may be late to breakfast though - perhaps it's a residual effect from yesterday, but I'm not feeling well. Please feel free to eat without me if that's the case.
[Fuck this he's-
Wrapping himself back up in the blanket to claim his place over the new couch hovel. He's just gonna hang out here - the cushion was a nice change of pace anyway. He'll wander back to his room later.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[It’s a yes or fucking no question.
[“Surface level.” Right. If he says so. Aubrey’s hands close in her lap, slow but tight, and she’s got half a mind to—
[Hell. She’ll never be satisfied.
[All at once she leans back, sighing, kicking her feet up on the table and crossing them. If it knocks over his mug, oops. Aubrey plans her chin on her hand and her elbow on the chair.]
Knock yourself out.
cw: murder
[She's annoyed - he could care less. The cup topples over and spills what remains.
How fucking poetic. Akechi doesn't bother it and hopes it slides off the table.]
You'll have to forgive me, as I don't often talk about this. It's somewhat of a sore subject for me, but perhaps it will offer more than a simple 'yes' or 'no'.
[And that, in fact, is the truth - the topic is raw despite the months that past. Still makes his stomach churn.]
You already know I have difficulty making friends and it's always been that way, but I did have one - a boy around my age. We met while I was being interviewed on TV. He was in the audience. We disagreed on the topic immediately.
In fact, in every meetup after, we disagreed and debated over almost everything. It was-
Nice. I truly enjoyed every chat we had, even the outcome didn't end in my favor. We met often, at the place he lived and in areas I enjoyed. Even in silence, the moments were never dull. It always felt like a symbiotic relationship - a type of mutualism formed from a desire to make the other stronger. To prove ourselves to each other.
[But no one's more powerful than a bullet to the skull - not even the illustrious leader himself.
Akechi wants to puke. The castle walls trickled with the same red splatters in Maruki's memory, in Joker's steel coated coffin.]
We even tested our strength in more traditional ways - competition didn't end with words. Our rivalry went beyond what most would consider normal.
[In the end -
What's the goddamn point of telling Aubrey this.
It's the same way he spewed out his mother's history, the foster homes, in a worn bathhouse. The way he uttered out shit at LeBlanc's counter in moments of heavy silence. In the alleyway whispers, conversations under the dim light of a flickering jazz club's bulb.
He stretches his legs out - leans back against the couch again. The cup falls from the table with that movement. Good.]
In my entire life, he was the only person I ever connected with beyond a superficial level.
no subject
[She thinks, at first, that it’s more bullshit. Ooh, a sore subject; what, like Robin Hood? Tell her more—
[He has her at “did have one.”
[“Did.”
[Aubrey takes her feet off the table. She leans forward again, slowly. Doesn’t realize she’s doing it.
[Never a dull moment. A bond forged by challenge—more than words. A refusal to see the other quit. A rival. A living space. A friend. Talks into the night. Worse.
[Gone.]
…Hey.
[Quiet, now. Soft. He sinks into the couch. Aubrey glances at the fallen cup, not focused on it; a courtesy, not to watch him.]
I can tell… he meant a lot to you.
no subject
She's still here. He doesn't know how to feel about it - a pounding headache is what he chooses to concentrate on.]
He was special. Someone I couldn't stand to lose to - ever.
[Joker meant nothing to him. Everything. Drove him to maddening depths that were thrilling and frustrating with every challenge thrown Akechi's way. In whatever remains of his short life, he will never find another person that compares to the leader of the Phantom Thieves.
An easy smile is plastered on. This entire goddamn ordeal is uncomfortable and irritating. No more forest adventures if the outcome requires a conversation like this.
He hates Aubrey.]
That's all I had to say. Sometimes I get carried away when I talk - my apologies. You're welcome to stay or leave as you see fit. If you're willing, Maruki-san will be up soon and I'm sure he would be happy to provide breakfast for you.
no subject
[She wonders if it killed him. Couldn’t stand to lose…
[Dismissed. Akechi’s used this little… apology, wave-off, before. Aubrey has let him have it, because that’s what decent friends do, she feels; give people space, if they need it, and it’s not, y’know, life-threatening.
[No one ever said she was a good friend. Not like that.]
Don’t apologize. [Less soft. Eyes back up.] I mean that.
[Without much pause:] You know… [It’s funny. She was thinking of a story, too. Doesn’t feel like it matters now, though, not enough to mention—but there was a point to it.]
I’m really sick of people feeling like they have to lie. Pretending shit’s okay when it’s not, and… the way that all breaks down. [“People,” “they.” It’s not just them.]
I think you’re better than that. [Can be. Will be.] And, hey. I’ll be honest with you. No matter what you’d answered, I—
I care about you anyway. [She reaches over, pats his shoulder twice with all the briskness of a nudge from the lake, and gets up herself.]
Jackass. See you at breakfast.
no subject
The intent behind her rough response is clear - don't lie, talk to me. This is a spat between friends and not smoothing over a potential murder attempt.
His palms burn - his fingers clench into fists over his knees. Annoying.]
I see. [Neutral - a crisis averted, a resource kept, an ally confirmed.] You're a better person than I am. I appreciate your understanding of the matter and the offer. It won't be something I forget.
['Jackass']
I may be late to breakfast though - perhaps it's a residual effect from yesterday, but I'm not feeling well. Please feel free to eat without me if that's the case.
[Fuck this he's-
Wrapping himself back up in the blanket to claim his place over the new couch hovel. He's just gonna hang out here - the cushion was a nice change of pace anyway. He'll wander back to his room later.]
no subject
[Does she buy that? Does it matter? His uncovered hands are fists over his knees. She’ll give it to him.]
I’ll wait.
[Kind of.
[Exit Aubrey, stage left. She actually will wait—and, most likely, fall asleep at the counter. As one does. What a day....]