[ Akira doesn't quite entertain the first part much aside from a small half-shrug. No matter what they say, it's difficult to pin either of them without the knowledge of the cognitive world. Either way, he is somewhat curious and amused over the fact that Goro is living each of his days... He rolls back the memories, playing them in his mind with the question of how Goro would react in that situation.
It's a bunch of kindness and warmth that the fallen detective doesn't quite deserve, but that's fine. With a raised brow, he takes a sizable sip of his coffee and lets the bitter taste hang before he speaks. ]
... Yes, she does.
[ But what she says shouldn't be undermined since it continues to ring true even now. Despite their switched backgrounds and stories, they are birds of a feather that flocked together. Whether Goro feels he's a part of their group or not isn't for him to assume, despite how palpable the similarities are. ]
That time will come when we get out of this together. [ Once the mug is empty, he sets the cup on the counter and slides a couple of bills right next to it. The attache is collected and he lingers a little longer off of his seat. ] For now, I have to convince my employer that the Phantom Thieves are a grave threat and need to be immediately exterminated.
[ Of course, a joke. Akira would never let any harm come to his friends if he can prevent it. ]
[ Akechi would have let him go, and they'd carry on, indulging in banters and disagreements fraught with foreboding ends; he'll find every reason to be afraid again -- angry and confused, but always in some pale sort of wonder over the boy. His pride and resentment would flurry and jostle from within, shaping into a personalized downfall once more: he didn't need Akira or anybody else; he has himself and that's enough -- ]
Let's opt for a change of plans instead. This employer of yours will be none the wiser to your absence.
[ There's a knowing glint in his eyes, wide and bright; Goro hangs onto the word 'together' like a chance encounter, another open wager to surreptitiously address out of sight, out of mind, away from dawdling customers, the man of the establishment. Goro slides out of his seat before leading the way, climbing the short flight of stairs, right onto the attic's floor. On the landing, Goro turns, then reaches out, begins to tousle Akira's hair into an absolute mess with light tosses and sifts until every tuft is reminiscent of before, how things ought to be. ]
This makes me wonder if there is a 'life' out there where we're both embroidered with an identical role. I wouldn't be able to allow that, though...
[ No maintained attachment for the media, the gimmicks played; he'd much prefer something like this, a moment of normalcy among faults made to correct with time, laughter ensuing once every dilemma is accounted for than falsified congratulations, empty applause and meaningless fame. However tempting it may be to pilfer Akira's happiness away, gloat on and sneer with every successful heist and passing month, show him how it should really be done, it was a bargain he was unwilling to deal with: Akira will know too much, and another lie will be lived in, lead around until its fated cessation. ]
... because phantoms shouldn't make a home out of discarded husks and their trivial existences. But I suppose thieves aren't too overly critical about their findings, are they? ... Why don't we make a trade, Akira? You and I are aware that this suits you best.
[ time loop anomaly @ akc: wtf pls -- but Goro continues on by fetching a familiar set of frames from the inner pocket of his coat; the temples unfold before the glasses are slid into place, resting cozy against the bridge of Akira's nose. He coaxes the attache away, or attempts to, even as their surroundings begin to twist and struggle to keep itself together. But wait; one more thing: ]
There's something I've been meaning to tell you.
Edited (i have no eyeballs) 2019-02-22 20:39 (UTC)
[ He has to play his role—or at least that's what it feels like it's dictated by forces unknown. None of the words he said meant anything, but he can feel reality trying to stitch itself back together with them. It wouldn't take long for him to make his exit, but it feels odd to leave home, so his eyes are drawn back to Goro before they flutter shut during the ruffle.
Curls stick up here and there as he opens his eyes again, gawking at Goro especially when he feels the frames resting on his face. Space is unraveling around them while people in the background continue on their day... The television sounds distorted, as does the sound of the grinder, yet Goro's voice rings so clear. ]
... Anything is possible. [ Likewise, there will be a world where they can both exist. This life, though odd, might be one of those worlds he has been looking for, so he can't help but let out some biting words—sharper than usual. ] Goro, you need to control yourself.
[ But he can't exactly stop the former detective from saying what he wants to say. It would be too out of place to just slam his palm against his mouth to stifle any more words that may snap them back into the cycle. While the material realm is losing its shape, the people are still quite aware of them.
Instinctively, Akira tugs the attache back. Gently. ]
[ Compliance, a retraction -- so it seems as Goro relents. ]
A limitless capacity for control that not even the most imprudent and disagreeable of adults can break. Should it be considered comically shameful or a pleasant moment of bewilderment that someone like you manages to do so instead?
[ All mirth, little antipathy, contrary to way back when he declared a semblance of ennui over Akira's ongoing presence. But here Goro is anyway with the usual approach and conversational hook, fishing for Akira's attention -- ulterior motives withering into jarring sentiments retreating from hate. So it goes. ]
But after all this time, it's still nice to see a familiar face. Yours in particular. [ If words are meant to behave as decoys, that's for the beholder to decide; Goro pulls on the attache, but only to benevolently coax Akira into the attic, right in the center of his home; the only thing missing are his friends. ]
Enigmatic as you are, I still assumed all the while that I had you figured out... Suffice to say that the past couple of months have been an invaluable eyeopener, but it's not my place to unravel somebody else's story.
[ Then again, their lives, once linear, are anything but. God or demon may insist on separate scenarios to occur: Akira could acquire mercy, hands absent of blood even as the Phantom Thieves are celebrated and revered, forcing a certain conspiracy to be along its way, and somewhere down the line, whatever 'bond' forged between Akechi & co. will become less so. He'll settle more into his own skin than some role's beckoning, haul Akira back where he belongs because Goro owes him that much; it's not like he cares or anything. ]
... I've caused you a lot of trouble, haven't I? [ Like a belated surrender, arriving way too late, probably no longer matters to begin with. His gaze finally drifts away from Akira's face, studies the blotted dissonance of time and space, how this gradually imploding world will eventually swallow them whole, spit them back out farther away or closer to each other. It's been several cycles for him since Okumura's survival; he had plenty of time to reflect, reconsider experiences past, both braved and secondhand -- ]
But I won't ask for your forgiveness. Just a modicum of your understanding will do... because you're not a murderer, Akira, and I'm not the one your friends need... Why don't I make good on what was imparted to me during that time when I had my fortune read?
[ Akira is more inclined to leave, but he's drawn up to the attic, anyway. Curiosity and nostalgia take the reins despite the heaviness that weighs on his shoulders as he spots the fissures in reality. They're pressing their limits, thoroughly ruining this rare chance to rewrite their story to something happier. His brow furrows as he listens to the new protagonist go on, finding it hard to not imagine it as Goro crawling back to what he remembers and knows best.
A part of him can't quite digest the thought that maybe those words are completely genuine, that this may be his choice of atonement... A frown laces his lips as he forces his eyes shut, frustrated beyond belief with the prospect offered to him. He runs his hands through his hair, finding the feeling of strands grounding. ]
... Goro.
[ When he opens his eyes again, his expression isn't so pristine and polished. It's riddled with exasperation, unexpectedly crestfallen now that they've stowed away from the public. It felt like ages where they had an actual conversation, even if he has spoken to several Goro Akechis in between.
They were all the same yet not the one he's looking for... And now that Goro finally shows up, he's seeing that, in the end, they're no different. They make the same decisions despite their pretty words like a sweet aroma hiding poison. ]
Why should I trust you—?
[ His hold on the attache's handle tightens. Justified doubt stirs; why should he trust that anything will change if he gives this mantle back? Akira isn't quite at the point of raising his voice yet, but it's almost there until he stops himself with a thought that makes his shoulders stiff. How can Goro ever show him he can trust him if he doesn't give him a chance? He bites his bottom lip as he casts his eyes to the ground, seeing that there's barely any of it left. Even his voice betrays him. ]
I d░▓'t w░nt yo▒ to go thr░░▒h a▓▓ of th░▓ a░a▒▓.
[ To grow up in such a cold environment, to live in an empty carapace of a room, to bloody his hands, to push others away—he doesn't want any of his friends to cycle through their suffering again, either. Those were things he couldn't stop, but this time he's in the position to at least allow Goro to enjoy a small portion of his life as a regular student. Nothing is stopping Akira from joining in, either.
Yet he gives that up. He offers the trademark attache back. ]
[ And when Goro laughs, the sound is barbed and muddled before cutting into a flash of a wistful frown, gaze downcast and pondering. He pretends to not have caught any of that. ]
Smokes and mirrors. You never should. Experience will tell you so.
[ So he says, but Goro seems a touch distracted. A slight tilt of his head, eyes focused on Akira again, like if he were to look at him hard enough, the blueprint of the boy's being will sustain itself a little while longer. He figures it shouldn't be made into such a big deal, at first; with every cycle where his consciousness sits dormant, it'll just seem like a bad dream, a little break from another year of gradual decay. But these little reunions are hardly a promised thing anymore; it takes longer now to find him again, and one day, he might wake up to newer 'worlds', realizing that the Akira he has always known will never return to him again.
Back then, Goro may have reveled over that: Akira, seemingly saturnine and miserable. Not today -- or ever, perhaps. ]
My life doesn't require your consideration. You're better off forgetting all about me, remain content in the ending you've worked so hard for. Anyone else would have. They'd realize that I've nothing to offer. Just a plethora of losses, emptier gains, if any. It's pointless to humor this superfluous bullshit more than you already have, especially with someone who has never hesitated with their attempts in killing you.
[ His eyes are less round with feigned schoolboy innocence, more slanted and brooding, even as they shine -- knowing. ]
... But I've learned the hard way, again. So it seems. No matter what I've said and done, you're that fool, the only fool, to keep me around, who never treated me differently despite how I'd deserve it anyway... Thanks, and -- [ Finally, Goro reaches for the attache -- ] I'm sorr --
[ A touch of the case's handle, then nothingness. ]
no subject
It's a bunch of kindness and warmth that the fallen detective doesn't quite deserve, but that's fine. With a raised brow, he takes a sizable sip of his coffee and lets the bitter taste hang before he speaks. ]
... Yes, she does.
[ But what she says shouldn't be undermined since it continues to ring true even now. Despite their switched backgrounds and stories, they are birds of a feather that flocked together. Whether Goro feels he's a part of their group or not isn't for him to assume, despite how palpable the similarities are. ]
That time will come when we get out of this together. [ Once the mug is empty, he sets the cup on the counter and slides a couple of bills right next to it. The attache is collected and he lingers a little longer off of his seat. ] For now, I have to convince my employer that the Phantom Thieves are a grave threat and need to be immediately exterminated.
[ Of course, a joke. Akira would never let any harm come to his friends if he can prevent it. ]
no subject
Let's opt for a change of plans instead. This employer of yours will be none the wiser to your absence.
[ There's a knowing glint in his eyes, wide and bright; Goro hangs onto the word 'together' like a chance encounter, another open wager to surreptitiously address out of sight, out of mind, away from dawdling customers, the man of the establishment. Goro slides out of his seat before leading the way, climbing the short flight of stairs, right onto the attic's floor. On the landing, Goro turns, then reaches out, begins to tousle Akira's hair into an absolute mess with light tosses and sifts until every tuft is reminiscent of before, how things ought to be. ]
This makes me wonder if there is a 'life' out there where we're both embroidered with an identical role. I wouldn't be able to allow that, though...
[ No maintained attachment for the media, the gimmicks played; he'd much prefer something like this, a moment of normalcy among faults made to correct with time, laughter ensuing once every dilemma is accounted for than falsified congratulations, empty applause and meaningless fame. However tempting it may be to pilfer Akira's happiness away, gloat on and sneer with every successful heist and passing month, show him how it should really be done, it was a bargain he was unwilling to deal with: Akira will know too much, and another lie will be lived in, lead around until its fated cessation. ]
... because phantoms shouldn't make a home out of discarded husks and their trivial existences. But I suppose thieves aren't too overly critical about their findings, are they? ... Why don't we make a trade, Akira? You and I are aware that this suits you best.
[ time loop anomaly @ akc: wtf pls -- but Goro continues on by fetching a familiar set of frames from the inner pocket of his coat; the temples unfold before the glasses are slid into place, resting cozy against the bridge of Akira's nose. He coaxes the attache away, or attempts to, even as their surroundings begin to twist and struggle to keep itself together. But wait; one more thing: ]
There's something I've been meaning to tell you.
no subject
[ He has to play his role—or at least that's what it feels like it's dictated by forces unknown. None of the words he said meant anything, but he can feel reality trying to stitch itself back together with them. It wouldn't take long for him to make his exit, but it feels odd to leave home, so his eyes are drawn back to Goro before they flutter shut during the ruffle.
Curls stick up here and there as he opens his eyes again, gawking at Goro especially when he feels the frames resting on his face. Space is unraveling around them while people in the background continue on their day... The television sounds distorted, as does the sound of the grinder, yet Goro's voice rings so clear. ]
... Anything is possible. [ Likewise, there will be a world where they can both exist. This life, though odd, might be one of those worlds he has been looking for, so he can't help but let out some biting words—sharper than usual. ] Goro, you need to control yourself.
[ But he can't exactly stop the former detective from saying what he wants to say. It would be too out of place to just slam his palm against his mouth to stifle any more words that may snap them back into the cycle. While the material realm is losing its shape, the people are still quite aware of them.
Instinctively, Akira tugs the attache back. Gently. ]
no subject
A limitless capacity for control that not even the most imprudent and disagreeable of adults can break. Should it be considered comically shameful or a pleasant moment of bewilderment that someone like you manages to do so instead?
[ All mirth, little antipathy, contrary to way back when he declared a semblance of ennui over Akira's ongoing presence. But here Goro is anyway with the usual approach and conversational hook, fishing for Akira's attention -- ulterior motives withering into jarring sentiments retreating from hate. So it goes. ]
But after all this time, it's still nice to see a familiar face. Yours in particular. [ If words are meant to behave as decoys, that's for the beholder to decide; Goro pulls on the attache, but only to benevolently coax Akira into the attic, right in the center of his home; the only thing missing are his friends. ]
Enigmatic as you are, I still assumed all the while that I had you figured out... Suffice to say that the past couple of months have been an invaluable eyeopener, but it's not my place to unravel somebody else's story.
[ Then again, their lives, once linear, are anything but. God or demon may insist on separate scenarios to occur: Akira could acquire mercy, hands absent of blood even as the Phantom Thieves are celebrated and revered, forcing a certain conspiracy to be along its way, and somewhere down the line, whatever 'bond' forged between Akechi & co. will become less so. He'll settle more into his own skin than some role's beckoning, haul Akira back where he belongs because Goro owes him that much; it's not like he cares or anything. ]
... I've caused you a lot of trouble, haven't I? [ Like a belated surrender, arriving way too late, probably no longer matters to begin with. His gaze finally drifts away from Akira's face, studies the blotted dissonance of time and space, how this gradually imploding world will eventually swallow them whole, spit them back out farther away or closer to each other. It's been several cycles for him since Okumura's survival; he had plenty of time to reflect, reconsider experiences past, both braved and secondhand -- ]
But I won't ask for your forgiveness. Just a modicum of your understanding will do... because you're not a murderer, Akira, and I'm not the one your friends need... Why don't I make good on what was imparted to me during that time when I had my fortune read?
no subject
A part of him can't quite digest the thought that maybe those words are completely genuine, that this may be his choice of atonement... A frown laces his lips as he forces his eyes shut, frustrated beyond belief with the prospect offered to him. He runs his hands through his hair, finding the feeling of strands grounding. ]
... Goro.
[ When he opens his eyes again, his expression isn't so pristine and polished. It's riddled with exasperation, unexpectedly crestfallen now that they've stowed away from the public. It felt like ages where they had an actual conversation, even if he has spoken to several Goro Akechis in between.
They were all the same yet not the one he's looking for... And now that Goro finally shows up, he's seeing that, in the end, they're no different. They make the same decisions despite their pretty words like a sweet aroma hiding poison. ]
Why should I trust you—?
[ His hold on the attache's handle tightens. Justified doubt stirs; why should he trust that anything will change if he gives this mantle back? Akira isn't quite at the point of raising his voice yet, but it's almost there until he stops himself with a thought that makes his shoulders stiff. How can Goro ever show him he can trust him if he doesn't give him a chance? He bites his bottom lip as he casts his eyes to the ground, seeing that there's barely any of it left. Even his voice betrays him. ]
I d░▓'t w░nt yo▒ to go thr░░▒h a▓▓ of th░▓ a░a▒▓.
[ To grow up in such a cold environment, to live in an empty carapace of a room, to bloody his hands, to push others away—he doesn't want any of his friends to cycle through their suffering again, either. Those were things he couldn't stop, but this time he's in the position to at least allow Goro to enjoy a small portion of his life as a regular student. Nothing is stopping Akira from joining in, either.
Yet he gives that up. He offers the trademark attache back. ]
no subject
Smokes and mirrors. You never should. Experience will tell you so.
[ So he says, but Goro seems a touch distracted. A slight tilt of his head, eyes focused on Akira again, like if he were to look at him hard enough, the blueprint of the boy's being will sustain itself a little while longer. He figures it shouldn't be made into such a big deal, at first; with every cycle where his consciousness sits dormant, it'll just seem like a bad dream, a little break from another year of gradual decay. But these little reunions are hardly a promised thing anymore; it takes longer now to find him again, and one day, he might wake up to newer 'worlds', realizing that the Akira he has always known will never return to him again.
Back then, Goro may have reveled over that: Akira, seemingly saturnine and miserable. Not today -- or ever, perhaps. ]
My life doesn't require your consideration. You're better off forgetting all about me, remain content in the ending you've worked so hard for. Anyone else would have. They'd realize that I've nothing to offer. Just a plethora of losses, emptier gains, if any. It's pointless to humor this superfluous bullshit more than you already have, especially with someone who has never hesitated with their attempts in killing you.
[ His eyes are less round with feigned schoolboy innocence, more slanted and brooding, even as they shine -- knowing. ]
... But I've learned the hard way, again. So it seems. No matter what I've said and done, you're that fool, the only fool, to keep me around, who never treated me differently despite how I'd deserve it anyway... Thanks, and -- [ Finally, Goro reaches for the attache -- ] I'm sorr --
[ A touch of the case's handle, then nothingness. ]