middaeg | ( closed ) but it's too good to throw it all away

Who: Goro Akechi & Sylvia Kawano
When: Late Juril
Where: Purramid Cafe
What: Some important backstory revelations
Warnings: Discussion of murder, suicide

Akechi likes to think of himself as a decisive person, but even he has to admit he's dragging his feet. Most of a month has passed since his conversation with Ann and it's become increasingly obvious to him that he can't keep dodging the issue. Hell, he doesn't even really want to dodge the issue. The whole point of telling Akira as much as he did was to ensure as much stability as possible in their relationship.

But this whole friendship with Sylvia has gone further and deeper than he expected, and now he finds himself undeniably uneasy about the conversation he has planned. He's tamping it down as much as he can, muffling their Bond until it's like overhearing a conversation through two closed doors, but it still doesn't feel like enough.

He hadn't bothered to make his request to talk less alarming than it came out - There's something I need to tell you. - but he hadn't forced Sylvia to sit and stew over it either. As soon as she confirms that talking at Purramid is okay he sets off. He gets there just after closing, just as planned, and taps on the front window to let her know he's arrived. Though as he glances inside...

Well, there are probably worse places to have this conversation than an after hours cat cafe, but he's having trouble thinking of any.

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'Why' is a conversation all on its own and one Akechi isn't entirely certain he wants to have right now. Not because he's wary of further judgement, but because even just the idea of being pitied makes him want to choke.

"There was someone I wanted revenge on." There's not really any avoiding it, unfortunately, so he'll have to make do. "But before I could get close enough to enact it, I had to make myself useful to him. The abilities that let me commit my crimes are something only a handful of people possess, so I proposed using them in his favor."

If he lets her in, he will be able to feel the emotional strain this is putting on their Bond. He won’t feel pity, but he’ll feel...largely disappointment with an undercurrent of anger and sadness. It seems like the weight of his words is finally starting to settle in, somewhat.

“I can’t believe this,” she says, exasperated. “I just — I can’t...I can’t even begin to explain how confused I am.”

She runs a hand through her hair. Dimitri and Keith both told her they’d kill to protect; to kill for revenge is wrong —

Ah. That thought hits her like a bullet train, and the way her eyes widen says so. That’s how she felt when she saw Jongdae’s lifeless body on the ground. She’d wanted that vengeance so, so badly. But she wouldn’t have taken other lives to do so, and this took place after being a puca changed her. They’re different. Akechi is presenting himself as the kind of person she’d dreaded becoming. And somehow, she hates that she’s realizing this. She doesn’t want to doubt him or slap that label onto him...but it’s how she feels.

Was his kind, caring demeanor truly all a farce?

“I want to know something.” She pauses, and looks at him with slightly narrowed eyes. Her tone is stern. “I want to know if you regret it. ... And if the person you’ve shown me so far is really someone who cares about me.”

Akechi is very, very good at keeping a firm lid on their Bond, but he's not perfect. It's locked down tight enough that her disappointment and anger and sadness are more like hearing an echo than hearing the source, but they're undeniable all the same. It stings, yet somehow it's better than he expected. He can work with those reactions. He's had experience confronting them before - and if they spark out of control and burn everything to the ground, at least he knows he's the one who lit the match.

As for himself, neither nervous nor anxious are really the right words to describe his own mindset. He's tense, anticipating something without knowing what it'll be, the edges of his thoughts already tinged with resignation.

He doesn't try to hurry her through her reactions, letting her shuffle through them in her own time. It's not like he has anywhere else to be, and there's something relieving in seeing that she's more angry than upset when she speaks. Though the answer to her question is a little complicated, even if it shouldn't be.

"If you're asking if I realize it was wrong, the answer is yes. If you're asking if I realize there was a better way, the answer is yes." But he doubts those are the parts that matter to her. "But if you're asking if I feel bad about it, the answer is no."

As for whether or not he really cares about her, he's not surprised to hear she doubts his intentions... but having it confirmed has something closer to genuine hurt flickering through him.

"If you're talking about offering to Bond with you, or helping you when you were injured, I didn't do those things to deceive or manipulate you. I did them because I wanted to."

There’s something to be said about how there’s a huge surge of relief when he tells her he’d been genuine with the Bond. With their friendship, presumably, too. She doesn’t quite let it show on her face but the Bond won’t let her hide it — not like she’s trying to particularly but she feels like she shouldn’t feel this way when people have died.

“I can’t say I’m happy about what you did, but that’s pretty obvious. It’s just — I never thought you could. I...” She trails off, biting on her lower lip. “When I went to kill that man, I did it because I wanted revenge. But I couldn’t do it, and I hated myself for it — because I didn’t know if I did the right thing, and because I couldn’t stand to see myself as a killer...”

Dimitri wanted to stop that man, and wasn’t that partly for vengeance, too? But Akechi — he killed others for one person. Others who might have not deserved it. She doesn’t know for sure, her thoughts are too jumbled to make total sense of this anyway.

“What I’m trying to say is, I — I’ve been there — and I hate that I’ve been there at all! I don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore, and I shouldn’t even be disappointed because of what I did — but I am, and it sucks. I feel like you’re not the person I thought you were, but I’ve been feeling that way about other people, too, and —”

Yeah. She’s a mess. She can’t even finish her sentence without looking like she’s going to lose her mind from all the stress.

She really had doubted it, huh? Akechi supposes he can't blame her. He can't blame her for any self-loathing she feels about her own attempts at revenge because... really, she should feel that way. At least, that's what most people would say. Revenge is bad and wrong and some other trite things that Akechi never really bought into but he knows that most people would agree with. More importantly, it's what Sylvia would think, and the fact that she still does is reassuring in an odd way.

As for him not being who she thought he was, that's... fair, honestly. He hadn't been lying or putting up as much of a false front than usual, but there's no denying that he hadn't been forthright about himself or his nature. Unfortunately, he's really not sure what he can say to that. It's not like he's going to suddenly find it in him to be candid all the time.

"... I can't promise I'll always be open and forthcoming with you." He may as well start with that. Akechi is what he is, and what he is is a natural liar. "But I'll try - and I can say that I've never directly lied to you, and I don't intend to start."

Edited 2020-08-07 20:33 (UTC)

She’s quiet for a moment, even as he speaks. He hasn’t directly lied to her, and perhaps him telling her this is a sign of trust...

“Okay,” Sylvia says with hesitation. She’s not sure what she’s feeling or how she should feel exactly..but she’s relieved yet again to hear that he will at least make the effort to be more honest moving forward. “I... I just need time to process this. I appreciate your honesty, but it’s just kind of a lot to take in.”

She closes her eyes, lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

“I don’t have anything else to say. I’m not gonna call off our Bond, but like I said...I just need time. I hope you understand.”

"That's fine. I'd be a bit concerned if you didn't." It's not a joke and it's not said like one, though it might come across that way. But rather than humor, all that Akechi feels is an enormous flood of relief and gratefulness, so unexpected that not even he can catch it before it floods through their Bond.

That's kind of embarrassing, honestly. Akechi pushes himself to his feet before either of them has a chance to remark on it.

"Take as much time as you need. And-" There's the barest pause before Akechi settles on what he wants to say. "-thank you." Akechi isn't sure what he's thanking her for - for hearing him out, for not pushing him away, for giving him a chance - but he suspects it might be all of the above.

Edited 2020-08-07 21:11 (UTC)

She follows him to the door and lets him out. Before he can leave though, she looks at him — still unsure, but admittedly enjoying the relief he lets through the Bond — and nods.

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you later.”

Sylvia will never be okay with the knowledge of what he’s done, but she doesn’t think she’s ready to let go of him. She doesn’t know if she ever will be.

But this time away is necessary.

( closed ) but it's too good to throw it all away

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