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call me out: garbage boy edition
get in the fucking confessional akechi
(obligatory spoiler warning: there are a Lot)
get in the fucking confessional akechi
(obligatory spoiler warning: there are a Lot)
get in the fucking confessional akechi
(obligatory spoiler warning: there are a Lot)
no subject
Akira watches him, expression unchanging as he makes such an uncharacteristic laugh and then spews the honorific of his name with such virulence. It doesn't remotely seem like the leader he knows... not that he knew him that well, all things considered.
It could be. It just didn't seem likely.
"Funny, pretty sure you were still alive after my cognitive self shot me." His tone is so... aloof, because why bother getting angry over this? Unlike this Akechi, who still seemed to harbor a raging fire within him... Akira's was mostly extinguished.
He finally decides to take a seat in the chair on the other side, letting out a small breath.
"Thought the leader of the Phantom Thieves was made of tougher stuff than that."
no subject
just
stops.
Akechi freezes, and it might have been comical if it were any other place. Any other person. Akechi looks at him like he's grown a second fucking head, and honestly, he's trying to figure out Akira's game. What does he have to gain by pulling this shit? They're both dead, unless this is an incredibly elaborate hallucination.
"Interesting," Akechi says, his voice calm. But underneath the surface, there's a hint of hysteria. "That sounds terribly close to what happened to me. I recall entering Shido's palace to confront the Phantom Thieves, confessing what I'd done. I even showed you Loki, out of the goodness of my heart."
He unclenches his fist, then curls it into another. He doesn't even know why he's talking to Akira. They had settled things. Akechi had died. It should have ended there. Akechi shouldn't have to look at the person he'd spent so much time with, the person he'd been so desperately jealous of, the person who'd had everything he didn't even though he'd been branded a criminal and lived in a fucking attic.
... And yet, he can't help himself. It's infuriating.
no subject
And now he's claiming all that stuff happened to him. Akira can't help it... he laughs. This is absolutely fucking absurd.
"Who's idea was this..."
It's not very funny at all, though, is it?
"So you're not the leader of the Phantom Thieves after all, are you." It isn't a question... because of course he's not. It's obvious that this isn't the person he's familiar with, even if he's wearing his face. There's something much, much darker in him than he had ever seen in the Akechi he knew.
"In that case..." He turns forward and reaches up, folding his arms behind him casually as he smiles a smile completely lacking anything except for maybe some ill-willed humor. "I'm sure we'll get along like a barn on fire."
no subject
"Like hell I'd lead those idiots."
He's getting it, at least. This is fucking bizarre, but this Akira--because it's starkly clear that this is not the Akira Kurusu he knows--isn't spouting bullshit at him. He's not talking about the power of friendship, or looking on with those piercing eyes as his moronic friends talk about how they don't hate him, how they can't forgive him but they feel sorry for him.
And that's good enough for Akechi. He drops his hand, lets it fall onto the seat next to him. That wave of tiredness crashes over him once more.
"At least you won't be stupidly noble. Not like him. It's refreshing." And Akechi laughs, but it's hollow and tired and quiet. "What a joke the universe has decided to play on us."
no subject
It won't last though, will it? Because if this Akechi is anything like Akira... then he hates himself far too much to be able to get along well with someone who's just like him.
But he'll enjoy this truce while it lasts, at least.
"Considering our lives were one giant tragicomedy show, it only makes sense that our afterlives would be a joke, too."
He looks out the window for a bit at the darkness, contemplating, before he looks back over at Akechi, then raises to a stand.
"I'm gonna head to the front of the train to see if there's anything else of interest. You're free to come, or not."
With that, he slides his hands into his pockets and starts walking down the hall once more. A train... has to have an engine room, right? And a conductor, probably? Even if there's really no other people on this train, surely there has to be at least that, but...
Afterlife. For all he knows, there's no end to these eerily identical and empty cars. For... some reason, he's actually a little relieved to find that there was one person here, even if it was the most unlikely person that he never expected.
Somehow, for once, he's actually not alone.