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That fucking Shadow. [He struggles to keep his hand from closing into a fist, on the boy's shoulder. He doesn't want this. Didn't ask for it. He was fine without his own face looking at him with starstruck eyes.

But he also feels Loki still, song answering song. And there are answers only he can give. Answers the very existence of "Crow", his older alternate, might hinge on.]

I'm taking you back to my apartment. If you think that constitutes "pushing you away", then you're sicker than you look. [With an angry jolt, that doesn't at all bother the few cognitions around them, the train begins to move. He glances quickly sideways, to be sure the kid's okay.]

...Sorry. Just... don't want-

[Oh, the train is moving. Okay. That was fast. Or maybe this is normal.

It's hard to tell when the world is spinning.]

It's not fair that you were alone for so long.

Don't try to talk. [His hand tenses on the kid's shoulder, after all. And then the train jerks to a stop, in Kichijoji. He gets to his feet, tries to lift younger-him by his shoulders to standing.]

Come on. Nearly there, then you can lie down.

[Alone isn't a curse, it's a gift. He knows that. For all that he fought it, struggled with it, warped himself beyond recognition to try to escape it, he's sure he's better off that way.

It's just, sometimes, he forgets. That's all.]

Okay...

[He'll shamble along, still gripping his temple. At least they're close. That's good. Almost safe...]

[They get to the apartment, eventually; again, he offers his arm. He unlocks the door, with the lock they picked out together, and guides the kid inside, stepping out of his shoes.]

Sit on the bed. I'll get you some painkillers.

[If younger-him can't make it alone, Akechi will help him through. But he doesn't insist.]

Mm. Thank you.

[He'll do his best, of course, but by the time he makes it to the bed, he just kinda flops.

It's very pitiful.]

[It is pitiful; there's no way around it. But he's had a lot of these headaches himself. He went to school with one, the week he awakened, and the less said about that the better.

He comes back, sets down a water glass and two white tablets.]

I recommend taking those. Be right back. [And then he goes next door, to the apartment that's empty except for a zoned-out cognition, to grab the spare futon.]

Okay...

[He forces himself to sit up so he can take the pills. He's a bit wobbly, but he manages before flopping back on his side again.

From his pocket, he digs out the little plush crow Kanji gave him and holds it close.]

[A moment or so later, the door latches, and he's back, unrolling the futon in a businesslike way, glancing up to be sure those tablets have gone—or not, he's not the kid's mother, though things might be easier if he was.

Quickly, he tucks a sheet all around, adds a pillow and quilt, and turns down the quilt. He could have set it up in the front room, but instead it's next to his own bed.

He gets to his feet.] I'll leave you to it. If you need anything else, now's the time.

[Actually, what's he holding? He squints at the scrap of black fluff in the boy's hands. Well, no need to make a big deal of it.]

Hold on...

[He unceremoniously wriggles off the bed and kinda just... well, he manages to land on his feet, at least. And he's still clutching that plush crow. Let him just... go to the futon. That's right.

He'll just... sluggishly flop on that now.]

Thank you- for all of this. Just...

[Hm.]

Are you going to be okay?

[... what the fuck. As is often the case, he's feeling about ten things at once, and none of them good.] I'm always okay.

I'll try not to disturb you when I turn in. Text me, if there's a problem.

[He bends down, pulling the corner of the quilt over younger-him, pulling a mental eyelid down at the image of older-younger-him smirking in the back of his head.

And then he goes, closing the door behind him. The blinds are still closed, as if they're never opened.]

[Even with the pounding in his head, he wills his eyes shut rather easily.

The weight of everything that happened tonight crashes down on him, though before he completely passes out, he remembers to send a text to Akira-kun. It's only fair, so he doesn't worry.

Not long after, he passes out.]

[In the kitchen, finally, he washes his hands, makes an instant coffee, and texts older-younger-him, who got him involved with all this shit to begin with.]

What's the black thing he's holding?

It's a plush that Kanji-san gave him the night they met. He made it especially for him, even though they were virtually strangers.

[So, naturally, it's come to mean a lot to him.]

[... ugh.]

"Skilled with a needle" was how he put it to me. I'm sure you remember. He wanted me to engage him as a tailor.

Edited 2023-09-22 17:02 (UTC)

Yes. Kanji is very skilled with not only knitting, but with tailoring and modifying his own clothes. His interest in crafting got him a lot of flak when he was younger, which in turn was why he sculpted that "bad boy" demeanor.

It was a shield to intimidate others, so they wouldn't think him "too soft."

I'm not surprised he related to that.

[After all, what had he been doing at twelve, really? Still playing nice like an idiot, with that desperate hope behind his smile.]

I can't say how long this headache will last. He may be better by morning, or he may be unwell for days. After I awakened it was a week before I felt—["Like himself"? No, that's not the right way of putting it at all.]—well again.

I appreciate you taking care of him, especially on such short notice. I'll try to find some way to make it up to you later.

[It's only fair, after all. A task like that is no easy feat for someone as jaded as his other self.]

With all that said, do you wish to discuss the information he shared? I imagine it's quite a lot to grapple with.

Edited 2023-09-22 17:13 (UTC)

You'll just have to owe me. There's no money here, after all. I can't so much as cadge a free meal out of you.

[Does he wish to discuss the information, though? It's going to take some thinking through, for sure. But the thing he keeps returning to, the thing that's anchored under his skin and torn it off, is that both of them—the older one and the kid both—can likely now begin to see him for what he is.]

I'm not ashamed of any of it. I'm not even sorry. Given the knowledge I had at the time, I'd do every part of it again.

You did what you felt was necessary, given your circumstances. You didn't have hindsight, nor did you see the big picture, and the world had failed you, so you had no fucks to give about those you were assigned to kill.

[Perhaps there's more to it, but it's the best summation he can come up with.]

I don't think you'll lose any faith you've earned from my younger self, however. He may be young, but that loneliness is still recent for him. His bitterness remains, even though he's begun to find renewed hope.

In short, I doubt much will change, other than him being sad that you endured such things. He won't hate you.

[You don't get it, other-him. That just makes it so much worse.]

You're saying, in essence, that he views me the way I viewed Shido. That his crimes and personal failings are at worst irrelevant, at best something to aspire to. Is that it?

["Irrelevant" is perhaps not the best way to describe his view of Shido's ocean of crimes. But they've never factored into his decision-making in recent times.]

Edited 2023-09-22 17:24 (UTC)

I doubt he views your crimes as aspirational. I suspect it'll be like me.

We can see past the crimes. Understand that you walked this path as a matter of circumstance, because you wanted to be seen. To be needed.

[Hmm... He pauses, thinking back.]

But you are, in many ways, more relatable to him, because he isn't me yet. He was taken so early, when he'd only just begun to walk the path of a Persona user and still hadn't properly awakened.

He's known you almost as long as he's known Kanji, Nanako-chan, and Dojima-san now.

It's how children are drawn in by vile adults. You know that. They need to be needed. They offer understanding when all there should be is condemnation. There's an endless litany of abuse written in the naivety of children.

But you aren't Shido.

[He lets that point sink in for a moment.]

You've shown nothing but kindness and patience to him and to Hawk. At any time, you could have hurt them. Used them. But you never did.

Understanding can be frightening. It's why I pushed the others away for as long as I did. Understanding can be so easily exploited. Like slithering through a crack in the armor to strike at a vital spot...

I'm sorry that you had to endure so much hardship alone.

[Feeling ten things at once, all bad? Try twenty or so—though admittedly many are the same thing.]

Don't say that I'm sick to death of hearing it. I'm sick to death of your understandign

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