[The pitch in Maruki's voice is erratic - softer, louder, settling into muted nothing. A hand shaking in his and-
Akechi maneuvers it so Maruki is grasping his shoulder - stability, support. He'll walk on his fucking own because this is a fight he picked, a battle he knew would happen and there's no sympathy in his body. Not an ounce of care in his voice. It's only annoyance plastered on his own blood splattered face.]
Shut up and move. It's a long walk - if you pass out, I'm not carrying you.
[ Maruki does both things commanded of him: He shuts up, and he moves. It is a long walk, and he keeps expecting Akechi to tire of it and dump him on the side of the road, tell him he's taken him far enough and to seek help on his own.
He doesn't. They stagger silent step by silent step all the way to the new Healer's Conclave, and Maruki feels–
Dead on his feet. Beyond. He's not fully conscious of how he's treated; the only thing he knows for certain is that Akechi remains at his side, and against all reason, Maruki trusts that that means he'll be looked after somehow.
It could be hours later by the time he starts to feel like himself again. There's still a needle in his hand for the transfusion, still blood caked beneath his fingernails even though his skin's been wiped superficially clean.
He stares at Akechi from where he sits, jaw set, eyebrows raised. ]
[Guilt doesnt weigh on him - not a bit. It's not what makes him wait at the facility with his arms crossed, fully attuned to what's happening.
It didn't make him wrap an arm around Maruki's waist to haul him back up when he starts stumbling on a muddy, rocky trail. It's didn't force Akechi to stop when labored breaths hit his ear, a quiet voice mumbling through it all.
It's not why he turned enemies into clumps of indistinguishable flesh on the ground or shove him under an awning when a downpour began only minutes away from the shack.
It's a distrust in their system, this world. He doesn't care if Maruki lives or dies. It's his choice for picking fights, but it won't happen because some worthless creature didn't understand blood types.
Akechi will kill Maruki Takuto - no one else and-
He's awake, aware and speaking sooner than Akechi thought. He remains an undisturbed force against the wall.]
I'm always calm. I feel the same as I did in our backyard.
[ Maruki has exactly enough energy left to level a long stare at Akechi, brows raising high above tired eyes. ]
Yes, you seemed very calm when you were ranting and raving. Only the calmest person would pull a gun out, too.
[ He removes his glasses, wipes them against the clean shirt the conclave gave him. ]
I'm not going to ask you to explain again. I'm only going to say this.
[ Glasses held up to a light overhead. There are dried flecks of blood he'll need to wash off at home. They won't come off now, but that doesn't stop him from trying again, blurred gaze askance from Akechi. ]
If you told me all of that to try to turn me against you, it won't work.
Akechi doesn't give a shit what Maruki thinks of him.
Avoids focusing on how that statement makes his stomach churn. It's not nausea or unease that causes it.
He was calm. He is calm. If Maruki wants to find excuses for a bloodthirsty killer, so be it.]
Think what you want. Maintain whatever bizarre charade you wish-I don't care.
My only point was to tell you an irrefutable fact you refused to listen to.
[They won't get into it again. Akechi refuses - keeps his eyes level with disgusting creature that comes in to check on Maruki to provide the most basic level of care. A few minutes, some cursory checks and it's gone. Akechi continues, as if never interrupted.]
Though given the evidence, I may have been duped by that group of criminals in some way. I've long since thought of the possibility, ever since we were pulled to and from alternate worlds. However, it doesn't change what I did or what happened in that room. It only changes the overall outcome.
[ They won't get into it again, no. Because that tells Maruki much of what he needs to know.
In some reality, Akechi did kill Akira. Shot him in the head, splattered blood and skull fragments and gray matter against the wall, left a body limp on the floor. If it didn't result in the death of Akira in the true reality, then there are a few possibilities of differing timelines and cognitive manipulations to explain it. Maruki certainly doesn't have all the answers, but he has enough.
Duped by that group of criminals–
Please explain to me how one could fall into the Metaverse without knowing it. Without activating it. Without having a goddamn clue that they walked into a trap?
A few more pieces of an indecipherable puzzle fall into place. Maruki takes a long sip of the cup of water brought to him, head still feeling a little too light. ]
Why don't you ask him what he experienced? If our realities differ, then it may or may not help, but...
[Final, and without room for argument. Akechi won't be asking Kurusu Akira - not now.
A few weeks down the line, he may be able to eke out enough details to connect the dots. Akechi has the upper hand right now. Knows Akira's timeline, history, has a vague idea of the reality he may have been pulled from. Asking that-
Is showing too much of his own hand, or lack thereof.]
I'm no longer entertaining questions on this topic. You're welcome to mull it over to yourself or sit in silence - I don't care.
[ He's too tired to press. Doesn't think he would even if he had the energy for it.
Some unease sits in his chest, a desire to insert himself, to meddle, to fix, and a fogged over memory of a reality where he did exactly that. It didn't end well for any of them, did it?
Maruki sighs, pats the side of his bed. ]
Come sit over here. I want to tell you something.
even if u weren't do u think I care kill me in one shot or ten
[ More than satisfied, actually. He might look the slightest bit smug if he had the energy left over for it.
Instead he leans back comfortably, holds up the hand with a needle still in it. ]
Did you know that hundreds of years ago, doctors practiced milk transfusions? They labored under the delusion that milk could transform into white blood cells, so for a brief period of time, it was a treatment for a variety of illnesses.
[ A beat. ]
An unsuccessful treatment. Many died.
[ Does a morbid fact make you feel better, you pissy baby? ]
[ Ugh. Gross. He knew Akechi would like that one, which is a derogatory statement all on its own. ]
You're probably right. It ruined banana milk for me for years after I found out, though...
[ They can sit in this awful conclave and trade medical fun facts until he feels like he won't pass out during the MILES LONG WALK back home. Bonding time after a near death experience. What a world. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Akechi maneuvers it so Maruki is grasping his shoulder - stability, support. He'll walk on his fucking own because this is a fight he picked, a battle he knew would happen and there's no sympathy in his body. Not an ounce of care in his voice. It's only annoyance plastered on his own blood splattered face.]
Shut up and move. It's a long walk - if you pass out, I'm not carrying you.
cw needles
He doesn't. They stagger silent step by silent step all the way to the new Healer's Conclave, and Maruki feels–
Dead on his feet. Beyond. He's not fully conscious of how he's treated; the only thing he knows for certain is that Akechi remains at his side, and against all reason, Maruki trusts that that means he'll be looked after somehow.
It could be hours later by the time he starts to feel like himself again. There's still a needle in his hand for the transfusion, still blood caked beneath his fingernails even though his skin's been wiped superficially clean.
He stares at Akechi from where he sits, jaw set, eyebrows raised. ]
Are you feeling calmer now?
no subject
It didn't make him wrap an arm around Maruki's waist to haul him back up when he starts stumbling on a muddy, rocky trail. It's didn't force Akechi to stop when labored breaths hit his ear, a quiet voice mumbling through it all.
It's not why he turned enemies into clumps of indistinguishable flesh on the ground or shove him under an awning when a downpour began only minutes away from the shack.
It's a distrust in their system, this world. He doesn't care if Maruki lives or dies. It's his choice for picking fights, but it won't happen because some worthless creature didn't understand blood types.
Akechi will kill Maruki Takuto - no one else and-
He's awake, aware and speaking sooner than Akechi thought. He remains an undisturbed force against the wall.]
I'm always calm. I feel the same as I did in our backyard.
[What a mess.]
So stop talking.
no subject
Yes, you seemed very calm when you were ranting and raving. Only the calmest person would pull a gun out, too.
[ He removes his glasses, wipes them against the clean shirt the conclave gave him. ]
I'm not going to ask you to explain again. I'm only going to say this.
[ Glasses held up to a light overhead. There are dried flecks of blood he'll need to wash off at home. They won't come off now, but that doesn't stop him from trying again, blurred gaze askance from Akechi. ]
If you told me all of that to try to turn me against you, it won't work.
no subject
Of course not.
Akechi doesn't give a shit what Maruki thinks of him.Avoids focusing on how that statement makes his stomach churn. It's not nausea or unease that causes it.
He was calm. He is calm. If Maruki wants to find excuses for a bloodthirsty killer, so be it.]
Think what you want. Maintain whatever bizarre charade you wish-I don't care.
My only point was to tell you an irrefutable fact you refused to listen to.
[They won't get into it again. Akechi refuses - keeps his eyes level with disgusting creature that comes in to check on Maruki to provide the most basic level of care. A few minutes, some cursory checks and it's gone. Akechi continues, as if never interrupted.]
Though given the evidence, I may have been duped by that group of criminals in some way. I've long since thought of the possibility, ever since we were pulled to and from alternate worlds. However, it doesn't change what I did or what happened in that room. It only changes the overall outcome.
cw violence gore etc
In some reality, Akechi did kill Akira. Shot him in the head, splattered blood and skull fragments and gray matter against the wall, left a body limp on the floor. If it didn't result in the death of Akira in the true reality, then there are a few possibilities of differing timelines and cognitive manipulations to explain it. Maruki certainly doesn't have all the answers, but he has enough.
Duped by that group of criminals–
Please explain to me how one could fall into the Metaverse without knowing it. Without activating it. Without having a goddamn clue that they walked into a trap?
A few more pieces of an indecipherable puzzle fall into place. Maruki takes a long sip of the cup of water brought to him, head still feeling a little too light. ]
Why don't you ask him what he experienced? If our realities differ, then it may or may not help, but...
no subject
[Final, and without room for argument. Akechi won't be asking Kurusu Akira - not now.
A few weeks down the line, he may be able to eke out enough details to connect the dots. Akechi has the upper hand right now. Knows Akira's timeline, history, has a vague idea of the reality he may have been pulled from. Asking that-
Is showing too much of his own hand, or lack thereof.]
I'm no longer entertaining questions on this topic. You're welcome to mull it over to yourself or sit in silence - I don't care.
[Akechi is just gonna Hang Over Here.]
i'm going somewhere with this i swear
[ He's too tired to press. Doesn't think he would even if he had the energy for it.
Some unease sits in his chest, a desire to insert himself, to meddle, to fix, and a fogged over memory of a reality where he did exactly that. It didn't end well for any of them, did it?
Maruki sighs, pats the side of his bed. ]
Come sit over here. I want to tell you something.
even if u weren't do u think I care kill me in one shot or ten
[ He's good over here. ❤️]
no subject
[ patpatpatpatpat ]
And you're going to want to hear this, trust me.
no subject
Akechi did shoot him in the neck.
Maybe it hurts to speak up. Not that's it's his problem in the slightest. Play stupid games win shitty prizes.
He stands there for a few more seconds before crossing the room to sit down at the aforepatted spot. Arms crossed, one leg resting over the other.]
Are you satisfied? Spit it out.
hehehe cw just. gross medical shit
Instead he leans back comfortably, holds up the hand with a needle still in it. ]
Did you know that hundreds of years ago, doctors practiced milk transfusions? They labored under the delusion that milk could transform into white blood cells, so for a brief period of time, it was a treatment for a variety of illnesses.
[ A beat. ]
An unsuccessful treatment. Many died.
[ Does a morbid fact make you feel better, you pissy baby? ]
awwwww mamaruki CW: gross shit
OH.
He did want to hear that - color him shocked. That information is taken in at the speed of sound.]
Really? Because of the nutrients I assume. It makes little sense in hindsight, but I can follow the logic. It must have been agonizing, frankly.
[If ONLY HE HAD GOOGLE.]
How fascinating.
no subject
You're probably right. It ruined banana milk for me for years after I found out, though...
[ They can sit in this awful conclave and trade medical fun facts until he feels like he won't pass out during the MILES LONG WALK back home. Bonding time after a near death experience. What a world. ]