"I thought it was funny." "It's stupid shit. Are you a psychiatrist or a child?"
"You know a lot about cognition. Are you trying to counsel me?" "No, I was taught by someone. The last thing I want to do is pick your mind." "Who was it?" "Does it matter?"
"You mentioned you like sushi once." "That's not uncommon." "No, but it's convenient. I started learning for my wife - want to try some?" "I wouldn't say no."
"You've mentioned Maruki-san a couple times now. Who is that?" "My emergency contact. Shouldn't you know?" "Ah, it slipped my mind."
"Really? Tell me more about it." "He sleeps on the couch instead of using the bed. It's baffling. I didn't need a room - I don't need to be coddled like a child. It's infuriating." "You can tell him when you're discharged - that's a lot of effort for 'only an emergency contact' to go through. Ah, I don't envy the earful he's going to get." "He deserves it. I don't need to be pitied." "No, you don't."
"And then he did - what?" "Wrote a note. It was sappy and sentimental, but I didn't mind the meal that came with it."
"My wife didn't like the fatty tuna roll. Any tips?" "None of my own. Maruki-san, however, used to roll along the palm of his hand and keep it pressed for five seconds or so." "Did he cook for you a lot?" "On occasion." "What else did he make for you? Oh, I just need ideas. The kids are getting tired of the same old thing."
"I'll admit I'm not great with crosswords" "You're horrible. Can you even read? You're supposed to be educated." "I take it Maruki-san was better at this?" "Much better. You operate at the same level as a toddler." "Always harsh, Akechi-kun. Let's see - a four letter word for a place to dispose trash, starts with 'S'?"
Under a shimmering sky in a well maintained garden coated in brilliant shades of color. No longer confined to a room coated in fading, flecked paint. Nighttime, instead of early morning hours. A routine shift with this new caretaker.
Against the kitchen bar's frame, his fingers pressing whitish indents into the silver coating. Five dots marring the clean surface.
Pacing along small paths full of saplings and dying plants - signs of fall.
A rare trip to a nearby bathhouse, only if good behavior was achieved. It was. Forever a performer, always an actor - kept together by threads of steam tying him up.
Lash outs lessoning. Tempered. Discussion about homes, families, and mothers. Father pushed aside - not forced. A rival that still lives. A friend mentioned in between, more than anyone. Foster and group homes - not remembered in full. More connections. More things he's supposed to consider - he doesn't care, but some things help. Removed from a group, one on one, more links - don't lash, just talk. Akechi never settles into that habit - always giving the last word or last action. Walks away instead, sleeps instead, sits on vile words instead, even if they meld to his heart.
Relief in the gentle vibrations of a worn taxi coated in a plush cushion. Maruki spoke for himself for the first time in many months of Akechi speaking for him, about him. A voice so familiar to his psyche that it almost didn't register as real until he met his eyes in rearview mirror.
A joke about a gun. A sigh. More familiar. Comfortable. Jazz playing and warping to the vibration, the bumpy road - Akechi fell asleep, probably, with a single duffel bag held in his lap.
A different feeling than the first time his small hands wrapped around the handles of the only bag his mom ever bought for him, stuffed with a single toy and outfit that didn't match. He was leaving home then and-
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1/2
"I thought it was funny."
"You know a lot about cognition. Are you trying to counsel me?""It's stupid shit. Are you a psychiatrist or a child?"
"No, I was taught by someone. The last thing I want to do is pick your mind."
"Who was it?"
"Does it matter?"
"You mentioned you like sushi once."
"That's not uncommon."
"No, but it's convenient. I started learning for my wife - want to try some?"
"I wouldn't say no."
"You've mentioned Maruki-san a couple times now. Who is that?"
"My emergency contact. Shouldn't you know?"
"Ah, it slipped my mind."
"Really? Tell me more about it."
"He sleeps on the couch instead of using the bed. It's baffling. I didn't need a room - I don't need to be coddled like a child. It's infuriating."
"You can tell him when you're discharged - that's a lot of effort for 'only an emergency contact' to go through. Ah, I don't envy the earful he's going to get."
"He deserves it. I don't need to be pitied."
"No, you don't."
"And then he did - what?"
"Wrote a note. It was sappy and sentimental, but I didn't mind the meal that came with it."
"My wife didn't like the fatty tuna roll. Any tips?"
"None of my own. Maruki-san, however, used to roll along the palm of his hand and keep it pressed for five seconds or so."
"Did he cook for you a lot?"
"On occasion."
"What else did he make for you? Oh, I just need ideas. The kids are getting tired of the same old thing."
"I'll admit I'm not great with crosswords"
Under a shimmering sky in a well maintained garden coated in brilliant shades of color. No longer confined to a room coated in fading, flecked paint. Nighttime, instead of early morning hours. A routine shift with this new caretaker."You're horrible. Can you even read? You're supposed to be educated."
"I take it Maruki-san was better at this?"
"Much better. You operate at the same level as a toddler."
"Always harsh, Akechi-kun. Let's see - a four letter word for a place to dispose trash, starts with 'S'?"
Against the kitchen bar's frame, his fingers pressing whitish indents into the silver coating. Five dots marring the clean surface.
Pacing along small paths full of saplings and dying plants - signs of fall.
A rare trip to a nearby bathhouse, only if good behavior was achieved. It was. Forever a performer, always an actor - kept together by threads of steam tying him up.
Lash outs lessoning. Tempered. Discussion about homes, families, and mothers. Father pushed aside - not forced. A rival that still lives. A friend mentioned in between, more than anyone. Foster and group homes - not remembered in full. More connections. More things he's supposed to consider - he doesn't care, but some things help. Removed from a group, one on one, more links - don't lash, just talk. Akechi never settles into that habit - always giving the last word or last action. Walks away instead, sleeps instead, sits on vile words instead, even if they meld to his heart.
Relief in the gentle vibrations of a worn taxi coated in a plush cushion. Maruki spoke for himself for the first time in many months of Akechi speaking for him, about him. A voice so familiar to his psyche that it almost didn't register as real until he met his eyes in rearview mirror.
A joke about a gun. A sigh. More familiar. Comfortable. Jazz playing and warping to the vibration, the bumpy road - Akechi fell asleep, probably, with a single duffel bag held in his lap.
A different feeling than the first time his small hands wrapped around the handles of the only bag his mom ever bought for him, stuffed with a single toy and outfit that didn't match. He was leaving home then and-
Going home now.]