[ Things don't get weird. He doesn't go to his professor's office. The sky doesn't split open in waves of bloody crimson. Bones don't protrude through the ground and climb up toward the sky.
Nothing happens at all. He spends it alone, watches the snow gently fall.
Wanders through a much nicer neighborhood. Stands across the street half a block away from an upscale building. Buries his chin down into his scarf, tucks his hands in his pockets, and scans the condos for the windows still lit up. Wonders.
The days tick by. ]
I know you've been busy. I don't want to bother you. Do you still want to meet at the shrine on the 1st?
Someone asks him if he's still obsessing over the same research. Maruki smiles, shakes his head.
A new year dawns. He thinks of Eren and the wasteland he'll create, Aubrey and the sleepy suburban town, Venat and the aetherial sea. Akechi and what needs to be done. Stares up at the snow, Shibusawa's arm slung over his shoulders and voice cheering loud in his ear, and tries to send a thought for each of them with his whole heart. ]
Happy new year. I'll be at the shrine around noon if you are. No pressure.
[ He stumbles home around two in the morning, pleasantly buzzed and teetering on the edge of a new life he hadn't ever expected to see, to find an envelope tucked under his door.
TO: Scow
His stomach lurches. Temples pound. Heart races, cracks, shatters.
He reads it at the counter, sitting in the seat Akechi always took. A simple letter, written in a familiar neat hand. Instructions on accessing the cognitive world. The location of research long thought to be lost. Confirmation of many, many things both spoken and only suspected.
And a thank you.
No name signed. It's not necessary. ]
When did you come over?
[ Unread. ]
Akechi
[ Unread. ]
Akechi???
[ Unread. ]
????????????????????
[ The only reason he sees the breaking news alert at sunrise is because he still hasn't slept. Prime Minister Masayoshi Shido found dead.
Maruki doesn't bother with messages. He calls. It rings through to Akechi's voicemail. He calls again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again and again and again and again and again andagainandagainandagainandagainand– ]
Pick up or call me or do anything. I don't care what danger it puts me in.
[ Maruki isn't stupid. They never would have become friends, confidants, allies if he was.
Every call unanswered, every message unread. He doesn't sleep. He goes to the shrine anyway. Hardly anyone is out, the whole country in shock.
What is there to pray for? He doesn't know. He hasn't slept. He feels dazed, lost. Bruised. To pray for safety would seem foolish.
He rubs his head. Feels Azathoth's glow along the base of his skull. Considers those instructions. Checks his phone for that app.
Akechi wouldn't have written them down if the way wasn't cleared for him.
It's such a miserable realization. It sits bitter in his soul, hollow and rotted.
He goes through the motions at the shrine. A prayer, he thinks, is not unlike a wish.
Akechi never did tell him what wish brought him to Somnius.
On the train home, he tries once more. The call rings through to voicemail.
He doesn't bother trying again. He already knows. In a few days, the Detective Prince will be considered missing at the very least, and that will be that.
And Maruki will not remember him as a corpse. He won't ignore him. That promise was never made with any intention to follow through on either of their ends. ]
I know you won't ever read this. I know that, and I still hope I'm wrong - which you'd hate. Your phone number hasn't been deactivated, at least. I'm sure it's only a matter of time.
So whether you do see these messages or not, I'd be remiss if I didn't say it while I can:
Thank you for everything. Even the awful things.
I'll see you in some other reality, I'm sure.
[ And I will remember you if you leave me, because you deserve to keep what is yours. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Nothing happens at all. He spends it alone, watches the snow gently fall.
Wanders through a much nicer neighborhood. Stands across the street half a block away from an upscale building. Buries his chin down into his scarf, tucks his hands in his pockets, and scans the condos for the windows still lit up. Wonders.
The days tick by. ]
I know you've been busy. I don't want to bother you. Do you still want to meet at the shrine on the 1st?
[ Read. Unanswered. Not even reacted to.
It's the most he can expect. ]
Enthralled? wwwwwwwww just kidding
[ Read.
He reaches out to Shibusawa. Spends New Years Eve with him and his fiancée, their group of friends, some other old faces that he hasn't seen since grad school. It's good. It's great, actually. Shibusawa warns him against drinking too much, and he laughs it off, tells him things have changed. They have. He still wonders what Rumi's up to in this reality, but it isn't the persistent ache that it used to be. Azathoth has been quiet in the back of his skull. The collective unconscious isn't at his fingertips.
Someone asks him if he's still obsessing over the same research. Maruki smiles, shakes his head.
A new year dawns. He thinks of Eren and the wasteland he'll create, Aubrey and the sleepy suburban town, Venat and the aetherial sea. Akechi and what needs to be done. Stares up at the snow, Shibusawa's arm slung over his shoulders and voice cheering loud in his ear, and tries to send a thought for each of them with his whole heart. ]
Happy new year. I'll be at the shrine around noon if you are. No pressure.
[ He stumbles home around two in the morning, pleasantly buzzed and teetering on the edge of a new life he hadn't ever expected to see, to find an envelope tucked under his door.
TO: Scow
His stomach lurches. Temples pound. Heart races, cracks, shatters.
He reads it at the counter, sitting in the seat Akechi always took. A simple letter, written in a familiar neat hand. Instructions on accessing the cognitive world. The location of research long thought to be lost. Confirmation of many, many things both spoken and only suspected.
And a thank you.
No name signed. It's not necessary. ]
When did you come over?
[ Unread. ]
Akechi
[ Unread. ]
Akechi???
[ Unread. ]
????????????????????
[ The only reason he sees the breaking news alert at sunrise is because he still hasn't slept. Prime Minister Masayoshi Shido found dead.
Maruki doesn't bother with messages. He calls. It rings through to Akechi's voicemail. He calls again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again and again and again and again and again andagainandagainandagainandagainand– ]
Pick up or call me or do anything. I don't care what danger it puts me in.
[ Maruki isn't stupid. They never would have become friends, confidants, allies if he was.
Every call unanswered, every message unread. He doesn't sleep. He goes to the shrine anyway. Hardly anyone is out, the whole country in shock.
What is there to pray for? He doesn't know. He hasn't slept. He feels dazed, lost. Bruised. To pray for safety would seem foolish.
He rubs his head. Feels Azathoth's glow along the base of his skull. Considers those instructions. Checks his phone for that app.
Akechi wouldn't have written them down if the way wasn't cleared for him.
It's such a miserable realization. It sits bitter in his soul, hollow and rotted.
He goes through the motions at the shrine. A prayer, he thinks, is not unlike a wish.
Akechi never did tell him what wish brought him to Somnius.
On the train home, he tries once more. The call rings through to voicemail.
He doesn't bother trying again. He already knows. In a few days, the Detective Prince will be considered missing at the very least, and that will be that.
And Maruki will not remember him as a corpse. He won't ignore him. That promise was never made with any intention to follow through on either of their ends. ]
I know you won't ever read this. I know that, and I still hope I'm wrong - which you'd hate. Your phone number hasn't been deactivated, at least. I'm sure it's only a matter of time.
So whether you do see these messages or not, I'd be remiss if I didn't say it while I can:
Thank you for everything. Even the awful things.
I'll see you in some other reality, I'm sure.
[ And I will remember you if you leave me, because you deserve to keep what is yours. ]