Entry tags:
week five ♡ wednesday ♡ magilou
[he made himself scarce on tuesday.
sometimes, a person needs time to decompress, and save for having checked on fie once the news was going around that mera was missing...
he stayed in his hut.
even as the sun set, he didn't leave. and the night was restless, with little sleep to be had and a lot of stress on his shoulders—a protag will be a protag. a leader will be a leader. akira is absolutely both of those things, and with things coming down to the wire, it's overwhelming to say the least. he's got all too many reasons, and because of that?
he isolates himself a bit. selfishly, and yet also selflessly, because he doesn't like burdening other people with his problems—and maybe a bit because some of the thoughts in his head and things weighing on him are things he doesn't even really know how to talk about.
stupidly, because people don't ever fuss about his problems, akira doesn't really think his presence will be that missed for a day.
whoops.]
sometimes, a person needs time to decompress, and save for having checked on fie once the news was going around that mera was missing...
he stayed in his hut.
even as the sun set, he didn't leave. and the night was restless, with little sleep to be had and a lot of stress on his shoulders—a protag will be a protag. a leader will be a leader. akira is absolutely both of those things, and with things coming down to the wire, it's overwhelming to say the least. he's got all too many reasons, and because of that?
he isolates himself a bit. selfishly, and yet also selflessly, because he doesn't like burdening other people with his problems—and maybe a bit because some of the thoughts in his head and things weighing on him are things he doesn't even really know how to talk about.
stupidly, because people don't ever fuss about his problems, akira doesn't really think his presence will be that missed for a day.
whoops.]
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Akiraaaaaa!
I swear on Bienfu's cute hat that if you've gone and disappeared on me I'm gonna hex you for a thousand years! Frogs, hopping out of your mouth, every time you talk!
[. . . yep]
[after Mera's disappearance yesterday, on the heels of Ruby's and Raven's. . . she doesn't want to take any chances]
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her voice is kind of relieving right now. honestly, he probably should have just went to her yesterday, but he wasn't feeling up to it.
of course he wasn't. he's akira kurusu, and he's used to internalizing his problems and just dealing with them.
but this place is wearing on him, and it's getting harder to... really just shove those feelings aside. all the same, he can't really ignore magilou either; she's probably worried, even if she framing it like she's annoyed. so he'll open the door... and it shows that he's not in the best shape.
worse for the wear, without a doubt. he's not wearing his glasses, which makes it all the more apparently that he hasn't slept much. the dark circles under his eyes, how they're red and bloodshot... he's a mess? his hair is somehow more disheveled than usual, as well. he just looks at her tiredly, without much indication anything is really wrong otherwise and just shrugs, yawning.]
Too early to be so loud.
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[his demeanor may be casual, but his disheveled appearance speaks for itself. there's hesitation as she takes him in, gaze flickering from his messy hair to the bags under his eyes, and the words tumble out of her mouth before she can stop them]
You look like a certified mess.
[no beating around the bush today]
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[...thanks, magilou.]
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[you're welcome, Akira!!]
Mind if I come in? [. . .] You sort of look like you could use some of my energetic company.
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I didn't get much sleep, that's all. ["that's all."]
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[yeah, she doesn't believe that for a second. she's seen his cracks, she knows what they look like]
[as soon as the door closes, she steps immediately into his personal space, hands coming to rest on either side of his face. she catches his eyes with her own, frowning at the sheer exhaustion within them]
. . . what's on your mind now, I wonder?
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[he lets out a quiet sigh, eyes meeting hers. he doesn't move away from her touch, even though it feels like she wants to pry a bit into matters he really can't bring himself to talk about.]
I'm tired. [not just physically. he's tired of this, of this farce, of the game, of the way he feels and the things they have to do.
it's exhausting, and it's getting the better of him.]
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[she thinks back to his actions this weekend. the way he held her when the full implications of Laphicet's incentive tore her apart. how he offered to build her a place in his world, to give her somewhere to belong, to give her an anchor to return to no matter where she went in life. how he invited her over for a quiet evening after Laphicet's execution]
[she thinks back to that conversation on the beach, the one they had after Raven and the others returned from the jungle in tatters. thinks back to how he told her that he had always been everyone else's pillar]
[she thinks back to how tired and afraid and worried he was when Raven disappeared, and she thinks she might know what's happening, here]
Don't crumble underneath the weight of trying to hold everyone up, Akira.
[she mumbles, voice quiet. it's an invitation. talk to me, please]
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I won't.
[he's really bad at this. but it's clear—right now? it's akira's turn to not be okay.]
...We need to end this game. We need to.
[he's really not sure how much more he can bear all the death and destruction, honestly. he draws in a breath, as if trying to steady himself... and closes his eyes, while standing right there.
everything's fine.
he's fine.]
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[her hands fall from his face, down his shoulders and arms, until she's grasping at his wrists and tugging him towards the bed where they can both sit down]
Here.
[sit, sit! she's already perched on the edge, indicating that he should do likewise]
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he's really bad at talking about himself and his problems.
and once they're seated akira just sort of... slumps against magilou, head dipping a bit.
what escapes his mouth is a quiet laugh, but it lacks any humor or amused sound. it's kind of... sad, actually. defeated. like something completely took the wind out of his sails between sunday and now.
funny how that works, right?]
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[she initially freezes, every muscle in her body tense, not because she minds the contact (she's getting awfully used to it) but because she's never quite seen him like this before. her instincts tell her to bolt, that she can't deal with this, she doesn't know how, she's not equipped, but--]
[. . .]
[she wants to help. underneath all of that, she wants to understand, to sympathize, to hold, to comfort. and, geez, when she thinks about it. . . isn't that all she's really wanted all along?]
[he slumps against her, and she slips her arms around his shoulders, drawing him forward until his chin rests on hers, their cheeks pressed together. she's bad with words in situations like this, and she knows he is, too]
[maybe something more non-verbal will get through to him instead]
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it actually does get through to him. he leans in closer, wrapping his arms lightly around her waist and buries his face against her.
he's not crying, not right now.
but his breath is still a bit shaky; he's breathing her in a bit. he's not looking for words of comfort, or really... for magilou to do anything.
right now, he could just use her being here.]
Maybe it's wrong, but...
[...]
I'm almost envious of people who can desensitize themselves to this. [because apparently, he can't. at all.]
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[coming from someone who spent a good portion of her life incapable of feeling or caring about anything, she can't really think of it as wrong]
It sure does make things easier.
[speaking from. personal experience. but she also knows, from personal experience, what one gives up when they decide to go down that path]
[she doesn't warn him against it. she doesn't need to, for she knows he understands, and she knows he's a lot stronger than she was back when she was still Magillanica. so instead, she keeps him held close, letting him ride this out as she tries to ignore the way his nose and mouth feel pressed against her neck]
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whatever it is that happened in the last couple of days seems to have shaken him to the core, similar to how things were when raven disappeared.]
...I don't know how to do this.
[he admits, quietly.
how non-specific, huh.]
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[but that wouldn't help]
[with some hesitancy, with some uncertainty on whether she is doing this correctly or not, she presses]
. . . do what?
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Get through this. Help anyone.
[ah. there it is. the first piece of the puzzle.
...there's a lot more to unpack though, have fun with this, magilou.]
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[under normal circumstances, and if it were literally anyone else, she'd probably just shrug it off, tell them that she didn't really care how they felt, and be on her way. but these aren't normal circumstances, and he isn't just anyone. and god damn it, she knows she made a bet that he'd break or die before things ended, but that was before all of this. . . this whatever it was, and. . .]
[auuuuugh why does she hurt when he hurts? is this what empathy is? is this what it's like to care about someone-- genuinely care about them, about their happiness and well-being?]
. . . hey. I know I made that bet, but I'm not really ready to collect, you know.
[a light joke, because even now, she can't help it]
What makes you say that, anyway?
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but akira is experiencing something new himself, too. someone... he can trust. trust enough to let his guard down and be vulnerable with.
something he could never do with the phantom thieves, because even though he trusts them with his life, he's their pillar. not the other way around.]
...I couldn't protect them. [he mumbles. sorry about your bet, magilou.
(he'll pick himself up after this, but he needs this moment. unlike velvet, who had her breakdown in a fit of rage, akira's is... despair.)]
None of the ones that mattered most.
[and then, quietly and quite honestly, brokenly?]
...I made it worse. [...
his composure is cracking, though quietly. face pressed against her, magilou might actually feelt that wetness that comes from the sting of tears behind his eyes.
...akira kurusu is definitely a bit of a mess this morning.]
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[it's the other thing that takes her off guard, along with the dampness of tears against her skin. she feels her stomach coil and flip, and her instincts tell her to get the hell out of dodge because she's so not equipped, so not ready for this]
[her grip on his shoulders tightens instead. no, Magilou. don't run from this.]
You're gonna have to elaborate on that, Akira. [it's fine. this is fine. she's fine. she can handle this] . . . how'd you make it worse?
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it's like he's in debate over whether or not he should say anything at all, but... the tightness in his chest won't go away. the guilt he's felt for all this while feels like it could explode.
there are things he knows that he hasn't told her. things he's holding back out of necessity.
but yet...
he doesn't feel like he can say it yet. he draws in a shaky breath, and tries to move away from it.]
I want to end this game right. ["win," obviously.] So I don't—so nobody else has to do this.
[he lets out a quiet sound, almost a laugh, but it's more of a hiss of defeat.
yeah. this is all bad news bear, honestly.]
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[. . .]
[she has something. . . that could maybe help. she made promises-- promises not to tell a single soul, promises to someone she believed in wholeheartedly. but she trusts Akira to keep her secrets (he's done a great job of it so far, and that's an honest thought), and the person to whom she pledged her loyalty could always use more allies]
You know, sometimes I have secrets to tell and I just can't keep them locked up behind by big fat mouth. It's tragic.
[lllightly, again. still trying to joke a little]
There's someone on this island who knows how to end the game right. They're working to do just that, as we speak.
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...
...]
I want to help them.
[he's asking a lot of magilou by saying that. knowing what they need to do—and who it is he needs to try and protect at all costs.
he knows she means the other wickie, but who? who is it?]
If I only do one thing right here, it needs to be that.
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[. . . UGH DID SHE REALLY JUST SAY THAT. how sentimental. how sappy. she's appalled at herself, as true as those words are, for using such a cheesy line at a time like this]
[she moves past it quickly]
I was wrong when I surmised the final Wickie wasn't on our side. They are.
[. . .]
They're going to kill the remaining Sirens. That's how we end this game "the way we want."
[if her word choice sounds weird, it's only because she's echoing what the Wickie told her exactly]
Helping them involves assisting a known killer. If you're willing to do that. . .
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