[ The idea alone is too much to bear. It would break Rumi. Maruki knows that. She's the strongest person he knows, but the few fault lines she has run impossibly, dangerously deep. Her family, the family they've painstakingly created for themselves – it's something she could never stand to lose. ]
That's what would really kill us, you know.
[ Quiet, not accusatory whatsoever. ]
Your life is your own, and it's with us. No matter what you find out about yourself, or him.
[In the earliest years of their time together, he felt love. It happened in the doorway of the small apartment they would all grow up, when a hand fell against his back as Akechi desperately tried to recite a new address. Tokyo was big. Tokyo was scary. Tokyo wasn't a small town he could get lost in and easily find his way back to whatever temporary home he was shoved in.
He remembers feeling warmth in the middle of his back - recalls how desperately he steeled himself himself to lose it. Everyone likes him on the first day. They want him on the first day. It's the second, the third, the fourth -
That didn't matter.
They pulled him into their family. Made his mother a figurehead all her own. They didn't leave, didn't force him out, didn't do anything but make him feel like he had always lived among them. Sometimes that felt real. Sometimes he forgot that he wasn't theirs. Suffocated that fear in someone's lap, back, or chest.
They love him. He knows. He loves them. They know. But he can't shake the undeniable rot in his heart. Something that doesn't belong to his parents. Something that only belongs to one other person.
He leans against his father - shoulder to shoulder, both his hands folded neatly in his lap.]
You've always thought the best of me, but in the end I know who I was supposed to be. I'm already aware. When I saw the true actions of that man -
[Of that evil - it felt familiar.]
It's because of you I wasn't that way. That perhaps I may be able to avoid such a cruel, grotesque fate even after meeting him.
I wanted to you to know that no matter what, I truly did enjoy every moment of my life with you both.
[ When you were a child, you used to tell me about dreams where you thought you hurt people. Do you remember them? Do you think they have anything to do with what you've learned?
In the silence that settles around them like a heavy winter blanket, Maruki repeats it over and over in his head. Tries to work up the courage to speak the words.
He can't. Not because he fears the answer. Because he fears encouraging this line of thought. There is no part of him that believes Akechi is capable of anything nearly as terrible as what a man like that could possibly do.
He'll avoid that fate after meeting him, and they'll continue to enjoy their life together. Their little world of three.
Akechi's posture is terrible. They're nearly the same height by now, but he's hunched on the couch, and Maruki has to bend his neck to press his face down into the soft crown of his hair. He inhales, holds it. Exhales. Drops a kiss there before picking his head up. ]
I'm not going to discourage you from seeking him out. But I'm going to put one stipulation on it, Goro.
[ Maruki has never successfully been the firmer parent. It isn't a hard edge to this voice that makes this request sound like the demand that it truly is – it's the desperation that does it, pure and true. ]
If... When you go to see him, let me take you. I won't go in with you, of course– I'll wait in the car, nearby if you need me. [ If anything happens. ] I want to be the person you see immediately afterward. Whatever happens, you won't have to handle it alone.
[ He squeezes his arm tight around Akechi's shoulders, doesn't let go. ]
Both of them handle their emotions several degrees to the left of what most consider normal. It's not vicious, but visceral. As if a dagger was wound and dug deep into Akechi's chest.
As if his own hands bury deep in Maruki's torso, digging fresh wounds out of old ones.
They went to bed because that's the routine. Lay. Talk. Sleep.
Akechi went with him this time. Far too old to spend a night in his parent's bed, but Maruki will never say no and Akechi never needs to embarrass himself by asking. They tuck into folds of blankets and pillows together. Stare at the ceiling and talk. Pull out their phones and show each other videos curated from algorithms that overlap more often than not.
Akechi drifts off first. He always does. A hand gently stroking his hair, his face tucked into the man's side.
And he knows he's the son of another man who he acts on his lie without a shred of guilt. He stands alone in the Diet Building's shadow because his mother stood alone without ever getting to see it. It's a battle she fought against an unjust world - so will he.
Father and son. He doesn't remember. He doesn't remember.
He takes a seat by the throne at a blood soaked table.
He can't remember. He can't remember.
Shido didn't know her name.
And he can't remember, so he doesn't and-
He doesn't keep a photo of a woman he'll never know on the wall of his too pristine office.
It's about money. Power. Fame. Akechi's offered it for his silence.
Accused of vying for it with this meetup. Akechi is of no use to him with nothing to offer beyond a memory of a life Shido never wanted and-
There's a threat at the end of it. A comment about ending up hanging from a rafter with -
He doesn't know there were ten splinters. Akechi does. Shido doesn't care there were ten splinters. Akechi does. Shido speaks in a tongue vile and cruel. Akechi knows his own words could match it and it's only the vision of someone better in his heart that stills him. He wasn't raised this way. Won't act it. Can't.
So he doesn't.
And it's too much. And it's too much. And when Maruki pulls him out of their apartment hallway into a home that feels suffocating for the first time ever, Akechi lays out on the small balcony instead.
And when he's asked about it, his fears turns to truths. Sprout in his heart. A lie tumbles out. He doesn't feel well today. Doesn't want to be touched. Doesn't want it to spread. Doesn't want ten more splinters in his vision. He loves them. He loves them. He loves them and-
He loved her. He loved her. He loved her.
And he hates him. He hates him. He hates him and-
When Masayoshi Shido found dead covers every newspaper, all channels, every radio station and talk show from a mysterious new phenomenon dubbed a Mental Shutdown.
Akechi smiles when catching his true father's worried gaze from across the couch, Loki burning deep in his chest.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
That's what would really kill us, you know.
[ Quiet, not accusatory whatsoever. ]
Your life is your own, and it's with us. No matter what you find out about yourself, or him.
no subject
He remembers feeling warmth in the middle of his back - recalls how desperately he steeled himself himself to lose it. Everyone likes him on the first day. They want him on the first day. It's the second, the third, the fourth -
That didn't matter.
They pulled him into their family. Made his mother a figurehead all her own. They didn't leave, didn't force him out, didn't do anything but make him feel like he had always lived among them. Sometimes that felt real. Sometimes he forgot that he wasn't theirs. Suffocated that fear in someone's lap, back, or chest.
They love him. He knows. He loves them. They know. But he can't shake the undeniable rot in his heart. Something that doesn't belong to his parents. Something that only belongs to one other person.
He leans against his father - shoulder to shoulder, both his hands folded neatly in his lap.]
You've always thought the best of me, but in the end I know who I was supposed to be. I'm already aware. When I saw the true actions of that man -
[Of that evil - it felt familiar.]
It's because of you I wasn't that way. That perhaps I may be able to avoid such a cruel, grotesque fate even after meeting him.
I wanted to you to know that no matter what, I truly did enjoy every moment of my life with you both.
no subject
In the silence that settles around them like a heavy winter blanket, Maruki repeats it over and over in his head. Tries to work up the courage to speak the words.
He can't. Not because he fears the answer. Because he fears encouraging this line of thought. There is no part of him that believes Akechi is capable of anything nearly as terrible as what a man like that could possibly do.
He'll avoid that fate after meeting him, and they'll continue to enjoy their life together. Their little world of three.
Akechi's posture is terrible. They're nearly the same height by now, but he's hunched on the couch, and Maruki has to bend his neck to press his face down into the soft crown of his hair. He inhales, holds it. Exhales. Drops a kiss there before picking his head up. ]
I'm not going to discourage you from seeking him out. But I'm going to put one stipulation on it, Goro.
[ Maruki has never successfully been the firmer parent. It isn't a hard edge to this voice that makes this request sound like the demand that it truly is – it's the desperation that does it, pure and true. ]
If... When you go to see him, let me take you. I won't go in with you, of course– I'll wait in the car, nearby if you need me. [ If anything happens. ] I want to be the person you see immediately afterward. Whatever happens, you won't have to handle it alone.
[ He squeezes his arm tight around Akechi's shoulders, doesn't let go. ]
Agreed?
h e h e h e h
Both of them handle their emotions several degrees to the left of what most consider normal. It's not vicious, but visceral. As if a dagger was wound and dug deep into Akechi's chest.
As if his own hands bury deep in Maruki's torso, digging fresh wounds out of old ones.
They went to bed because that's the routine. Lay. Talk. Sleep.
Akechi went with him this time. Far too old to spend a night in his parent's bed, but Maruki will never say no and Akechi never needs to embarrass himself by asking. They tuck into folds of blankets and pillows together. Stare at the ceiling and talk. Pull out their phones and show each other videos curated from algorithms that overlap more often than not.
Akechi drifts off first. He always does. A hand gently stroking his hair, his face tucked into the man's side.
And he knows he's the son of another man who he acts on his lie without a shred of guilt. He stands alone in the Diet Building's shadow because his mother stood alone without ever getting to see it. It's a battle she fought against an unjust world - so will he.
And
can't breathe can't think can't fathom can't understand
He takes a seat by the throne at a blood soaked table.
He can't remember. He can't remember.He doesn't keep a photo of a woman he'll never know on the wall of his too pristine office.
Accused of vying for it with this meetup. Akechi is of no use to him with nothing to offer beyond a memory of a life Shido never wanted and-
There's a threat at the end of it. A comment about ending up hanging from a rafter with -
He doesn't know there were ten splinters. Akechi does. Shido doesn't care there were ten splinters. Akechi does. Shido speaks in a tongue vile and cruel. Akechi knows his own words could match it and it's only the vision of someone better in his heart that stills him. He wasn't raised this way. Won't act it. Can't.
So he doesn't.
And it's too much. And it's too much. And when Maruki pulls him out of their apartment hallway into a home that feels suffocating for the first time ever, Akechi lays out on the small balcony instead.
And when he's asked about it, his fears turns to truths. Sprout in his heart. A lie tumbles out. He doesn't feel well today. Doesn't want to be touched. Doesn't want it to spread. Doesn't want ten more splinters in his vision. He loves them. He loves them. He loves them and-
He loved her. He loved her. He loved her.
And he hates him. He hates him. He hates him and-
When Masayoshi Shido found dead covers every newspaper, all channels, every radio station and talk show from a mysterious new phenomenon dubbed a Mental Shutdown.
Akechi smiles when catching his true father's worried gaze from across the couch, Loki burning deep in his chest.]