XVIII.

mishima knows the credibility of his own words. arsène’s was a record lain out before him. if anyone knew the ace’s history, it would be the very one who ( albeit, against his will ) leaked it for the entire school to see. someone with that great of reach online would be a wise resource to keep in one’s pocket. and how arsène’s eyes are alight with mirth at the admittance that naught would keep him for seeking the company of his confidant. 

even if it were for nothing but the sake of socialising.

     ❝ oh? what a sweet talker you are! ❞

words touch his tongue with a cloying flavour; as if honey had dripped from his mouth & not his voice. arsène does not disguise the bubble of laughter which hangs on lips pulled wide. e’er would his expression be the one of jovial nature; it seemed nothing would deter such a carefree demeanour. hand raised only to brush against the curls of raven against his neck, does arsène further jest;

     ❝ now, how am i supposed to decline such an offer? you’ve buttered me up!  any more, and you’ll make my knees weak, mishima. 

              ah, right. 

     before my mind gets ahead of me─ i hadn’t asked you if you would be willing to sit and chat over something to eat. my treat, of course. ❞

❝ It’s… It’s just that you were watching them. I’m sorry for assuming. ❞

Of course, not everyone watching the festivities would be like her. Not all of them were just too nervous to join them. Some were watching to mock, and some were watching out of interest. Not many people were watching considering how informal it all seemed to be. She turned away from him, instead looking towards the ground.

❝ I- I was just wondering because… ❞

She needed someone to help her join them. But she wasn’t going to say that. She shook her head slowly.

❝ Never mind. ❞

mishima blanches from that taken-aback tone, her hurt look. he apologizes right away.

the painting before them is observed with unblinking eyes,    the museum in Ueno a  backdrop  to  this  backdrop,  the two of them mere members of the background,  with the pointillism  before  them the foreground at hand.  His understanding of art is basic;   his interest of it extending only so far as to  what  caught the media’s eye at that moment,  what was most relevant,  rather than anything that may have existed in  history.   (    which isn’t to say he isn’t knowledgeable;    Akechi knows his Italian Renaissance painters,  and his understanding of traditional Japanese art goes  deeper  than most people’s,   but it isn’t so important,   it’s a way of appearing sophisticated,   or downright pretentious    )

His eyes  flick  in Mishima’s direction,  but do no linger for too long.     ❛  I’m afraid there are numerous people who would disagree with you.  According to certain fans of mine,  I  surpass  even a few works of art in terms of  …  being appealing.  I  agree with you,  of course;  there’s nothing more transcendent than a beautiful work,  if it is done in the hands of a master.   ❜

               ❛ ah––yuuki-san, good timing. ❜ she glanced around the stack of books in her hands, wobbling precariously in her grip. ❛ would you mind helping me take these to the student council room? they’re past records i need to sort through––––i didn’t realize there were so many though. ❜ without waiting for an answer, she expectantly held out the pile towards him, silently telling him to take part of her burden. / ( starter for @adrnin )

It was almost funny to see Joker have that large 5 book stack carried to the diner to help Mishima study. He placed them at the table next to him on the booth as he sat down and grabbed one. Joker would have to talk a bit more than usual since he would have to help.

However, he owed it to Mishima to at least help him pass a few of the upcoming exams.

“Alright, what subject?” He asked as he stared into Mishima’s eyes.

a shujin academy uniform;   Akechi notes this listlessly,   accustomed somewhat to  this school  approaching him  (  or him approaching them  )  and what that may or may not mean,  and the book in his lap closes with a slight  shudder  of the pages,  a story lost in the wash basin of his own mind,  the narrative and its characters slipping away    ——    he had not been paying much attention,  in truth,  cared very little for the novel at hand and saw it as nothing more than a mere distraction,  a way to pass the time on the train and  ignore  the looks people cast his way  :  disapproving,  discerning,  as though waiting for him to collapse underneath the  pressure.  

❛   You are on your way to Shujin Academy,  are you not?   …   That is partway to my own school,  if you wished to share my umbrella with me.   ❜   He gestures to the umbrella in question,  rolled up and translucent,  propped against one of his knees in wait.   ❛   It may very well rain on the way to class,  after all.  I have no issue with doing so,  though  ——  we will of course have to part ways eventually.  ❜    And in the vein he delivers a coy nod in Mishima’s direction,  a tug of lips pulling his mouth open in order to let out a slight laugh,  as though finding something suddenly funny.

❛  Though I would not blame you if you wished to accompany someone else.  I am quite unpopular,  these days.  ❜

<<FROM: AKIRA KURUSU TO: YUKI MISHIMA>>  “I believe so…but if that’s the case, why not just accept it? I’m not going to quit calling you cute, you know. And adorable is absolutely not pushing it.”

[With the onslaught of clarification messages after Akira’s brief text, he wondered if he’d somehow conveyed his distress through what little he wrote. There was no prevalent emotion in it, from his perspective…but perhaps Mishima had picked up on underlying tones in it.]

[Regardless, he finally read over Mishima’s actual texts – which were…far more revealing. His mention of Shiho, albeit somewhat guilt-inducing at first, was all he needed to deduce what Mishima had originally meant. The recognition that such a close friend of his had been enduring so much of Kamoshida’s abuse that he’d contemplated suicide…it was heartrending. An immediate urge  to hug Mishima and never let go passed through his mind, even though he wasn’t nearly within range to do so.]

[…He was relieved that they’d put an end to Kamoshida’s abuse when they did. The concept that Mishima might be dead without their interception was harrowing…and it wasn’t because of how inherently useful his presence had been. It was because Akira cared so damn deeply about his well-being.]

<<FROM: AKIRA KURUSU TO: YUKI MISHIMA>> “Mishima…”

<<FROM: AKIRA KURUSU TO: YUKI MISHIMA>> “…Yeah, I understand. I’m…I’m really glad you survived. I’m not certain whether I could ever be strong enough to last as long as you did.”

[After all, Akira had been in the same boat before his probation…]

One hand runs through his hair, sheepishly, the food on his plate going completely unnoticed - he always enjoys making others laugh and Mishima is no exception.  However, something seems to be off about Mishima? Was the joke that funny?

Awkwardly, he can’t help but feel as though he’s slipped up, somehow.  Was it something he’d said…?

“…Ah, but who can say whether a food is ‘girly’ or not? I mean, it’s food! It’s not really anythin’!”

     (   HEROIC  …   )  not  that  akira  could  say  that  he  agreed  wholeheartedly  that  everything  they  did  was  morally  upstanding  ,  but  it  was  for  a  good  cause  &  thus  ,  nothing  could  be  used  to  describe  them  better  in  this  moment  .  (   NOT  TO  AKIRA  ,  ANYWAY  .   )    but  at  least  the  phantom  knows  more  what  to  do  than  expected  and  wastes  no  time  in  getting  the  both  of  them  walking  for  the  entryway  .         —–   “    essentially  .   each  person  who  has  distorted  desires  becomes  the  owner  of  a  piece  of  this  reality  ,  and  if  we  steal  what  they  value  most  ,  the  real  version  has  a  change  of  heart  .   not  to  say  it  isn’t  dangerous  ,  but   …   it’s  what  we  do  .   “   (   NO  USE  PLAYING  IT  DOWN  OR  ANYTHING  !   )   perhaps  mishima  knew  how  dangerous  it  was  better  than  anyone  ,  gaining  a  glimpse  of  this  world  …

      The thing about being a member of the Shadow Operatives is that Hamuko tends to go where whispers of the paranormal lead her, and, for the third large-stakes mission in a row, that ‘somewhere’ has just so happened to lead her to… high-schoolers. Suffice to say, this isn’t the first time she’s been hit on by someone who either doesn’t recognize she’s out of school or just doesn’t care, and she gets a sneaking suspicion that it won’t be the last…. 

      Watching anxiety bloom on the face of someone after turning them down, however, is a new one on her —— as is watching the nervous eyes of the boy in front of her flit to the source of a loud scoff no more than a stones throw away. For a second, all the Star can do is watch as he bows, all stutters and skittish energy entirely unbefitting of the cheesy line he’d delivered but a moment ago —— 

      And then it all clicks. Or at least, Hamuko really hopes it does. 

        ✤ - “It’s fine.” She gently waves off the apology just before taking a step forward, head tilted and brows slightly furrowed, voice soft enough that only the boy could hear. “You can make it up to me by answering me honestly, okay? I won’t get mad either way, I just want to know… Did you get put up to this? Someone trying to mess with you, maybe?”

Oh, for. She’d been getting recognised a lot recently. It felt like a bad omen. What if someone recognised her now and… Tried something? Her mother’s idea to get a bodyguard was seeming less and less silly. Still, this boy seemed harmless enough. It was fine.

❝ … It’s fine. Though there’s nowhere you should     recognise me from. ❞

Aside from certain photo shoots. She didn’t honestly know where those pictures actually went anymore.

@adrnin  approached for a musical starter

                 “ You have lost to fear, doubt and distrust. You just threw away the key to your heart. ”

       Akira grit his teeth, attempting to reconcile his feelings. On the one hand, Mishima wasn’t wrong; he was certainly a victim, no doubt about that. But— a coward? Was it cowardice to buckle under abuse in self-preservation? He didn’t know. Besides that, the word coward carried such a negative connotation, and something about listening to Mishima verbally throttle himself set off a deep, visceral NO in the pit of Akira’s heart.

       It was so fucked up. Everything Mishima had been through, and everything he put himself through still. It was so fucked up and Akira hated it.

       “Mishima, hey…” he began, his voice lacking the hard edge it usually contained. “You were doing the best you could, in order to protect yourself… don’t blame yourself for this, you don’t deserve it. What happened’s not your fault.”

the voice that rises to combat his own thoughts is soft (comforting), but with his eyes still closed, mishima shakes his head, shakes akira’s sweetness from it. he's far too used to blaming himself. he hadn't spoken up to garner sympathy. he doesn’t feel he deserves it, and he's ill-prepared to hear it.

“–I’m not worried about that,” was your reply. Did he really think your reason was so shallow? It would be difficult if he mentioned you by name, yes, but you were more worried about how all this nonsense was effecting HIM. You could care less about your own well being–which was obvious in your actions.

His reaction was to be expected. You weren’t mad–nor were you riled up in any way. 

“–I just want to make sure you’re doing fine,” you said. 

it takes the self-righteous wind out of his metaphorical sails-- that even tone, straight face; the full, stoic package that is the other’s day-to-day persona. yuuki thinks he ought to be grateful for the understanding exhibited but it irritates him further, somehow, because of how it makes him feel: small, see-through. he crosses his arms, digs his nails into the bare elbows beneath the bunched-up fabric of his rolled long sleeves.

um Yes

@undistort @freefound