uragiru | «Ｒ» INBOX.

[ Not going to disagree on the cyclical nature of this place. Besides being given the opportunity to feel really shitty about his more egregious failures in the last half year give or take, the loop of trying to mend fences to butting heads to periods of silence is tiring in its predictability, almost equally tiring as its (seeming) necessity. Puncturing Akechi's obstinance is part and parcel with getting through to him, but the further they're driven into their respective corners the more it makes Ren wonder if he persistence is all that's needed or just all he's capable of.

There's value in playing nice. Wasn't that Akechi's modus operandi? Though he can understand eschewing that after discovering that death is apparently meaningless here. Ren was feeling something similarly both relieving and hollow in the discovery. He just. Also. Knows both their natural inclinations. So obviously Akechi should be the one to capitulate. Because Ren is Correct. ]

Yes.

[ Also flat, but matter-of-fact, you know who I am and what I do.
Giving up isn't A Thing He Does because protags only come close to doing that in the dark middle chapter of the story. I Care And You Can't Stop Me sans hostile confrontation. ]

Why'd you pick up, then.

[ not so nice, then. Akechi grits his teeth, because he knows that tone of voice; Ren is getting more and more stubborn every time they talk, every time his friends doubtlessly go crawling back to report to him their latest run-ins with poor, pathetic Akechi. he'd like to think that means Ren is approaching a breaking point, but he knows that his own fuse is far, far shorter than that, so it's hardly a win. ]

Maybe I wanted to see what you could possibly have to say. [ he sighs again, and some of that cold facade slips. ] Maybe I'm just bored, Amamiya.

[ tired, more like. ]

[ Breathe in. And out. Akechi's fuse sure was shorter on that front but the more he leans in on the "everyone hates me, work is me" schtick the more it actually does wind up looking pathetic. And to be contrary to Akechi is one of the things that gives Ren life and all but it also happens to be how he really feels, wanting to prove him wrong and find something that ties even someone as dangerously close to fatalism as Goro fucking Akechi to life and finding new purpose.

But, big goals later. Not getting into a knock down drag out over the phone, now. ]

Same thing I always ever had for you: coffee.

[ It'd help with the tiredness too~ ]

[ there's a sharp warning that he bites back, because that treads too closely to the edges of a wound Ren tore open in him the last time they argued, the memory of kindness like a knife in his gut — but he does bite it back. tries to get a solid grip on the conversation. ]

You mean the sludge from the replicators? [ he clicks his tongue. ] Not even if you paid me.

I do understand, but even so,
It's one thing to go along with what people are saying, and another to believe it.
Actually, I don't particularly believe anything I'm told.

I know what you mean.
Now that we've had a death and these sudden disappearances both, the reality of our situation here has started to sink in for people.
It's overdue, but it can't be helped.
I only hope that it doesn't result in a panic...

The comms disappeared as well, though?
To be honest, the video looked like transportation to me.
Like a shift between realities.
But that might be the bias of my theory talking.

The comms are unreachable, not just not picking up. Either out of range or destroyed.

The visual effects remind me of deletion in VR, but the more we see the less I think VR meaningfully explains things on the station. You could be right. If they were vaporized on the spot, you would expect some kind of residue, at least? Mass doesn't just vanish in real space.

So if it's transportation, is there any evidence of where they're going? Nothing on video, and comm logs just show the device there one moment and not there the next, nothing to trace any motion from. Some form of geo(?)location would help but that's a bust.

Bias?

Ah, because I've been favouring the theory that reality here is warped due to the incident that took place before we arrived.
Gaps in the bounds of reality was my original suggestion for an explanation as to how we might have arrived here.
And now it looks as though people are departing in the same fashion.

... Which isn't particularly promising, if you're looking to track where they're disappearing to.

Plausible given the existence of a mechanism. And the things Venus, Alucard, etc are capable of indicates at least one mechanism working against the normal laws of physics as I know them. And Botamon's corporeal existence, actually.

We need to get into the station's research wing.

[ Whether or not intent lie in it like a hidden blade, these cuts were and will continue to be a fact of their interactions. In that sense what Ren meant by it didn't matter; a simple statement of fact can be harsh in small doses. He won't apologize for the kindness he showed Akechi back then, nor reminding him that it existed, no matter how it came up after.

Ren makes an uncertain noise in the back of his throat, the rumble gone crackly with processing over the line. ]

It's not so bad after the fifth round of filtering. Though I'm used to a... slightly higher quality brew.

But nah, I meant actual, real life coffee.

You know how things have sort of been appearing out of thin air? Like Lisa and ramen... in the toilet...

I promise it wasn't in the toilet, but it seems like I have everything I need to make some, if your interested. There's enough beans here to go one for a while if I pace myself.

[ oh. text would have been much better for this. he could have taken his time to think it over. this puts him on the spot, trying to measure up pros and cons as fast as his mind can possibly work, tension rising in him, more stress on something that's already creaking under the strain—

he has to make a snap decision one way or the other, and what tips the scales is the recent situation with death aboard the station. even since they arrived here on that first day, death has been sitting in the back of his mind like... like an option. a comfortable dead end for an existence as pointless as his, one last chance of closure for a life that lacked any. and now that's gone, too. there's no permanence in death here and maybe that's a relief to some, but for Akechi it feels like hopelessness. nothing he does really matters at all. he's so, so tired. ]

Alright. [ promptly, before Ren can question his decision or make any clever comments, he goes on: ] It's hardly the same atmosphere as Leblanc, but I do miss good coffee.

[ there's nowhere on the station that feels the same, he's found. to him, Leblanc was something safe, and warm, and comforting in a way that he wouldn't find anywhere else; this cosy little scene encased in glass that the rest of the world couldn't touch. everything here is cold. the harsh lights, the sharp edges of the place. ]

Where do you want to meet?

[ he was wrong, when he thought she was the same as Futaba Sakura. he hadn't known Futaba well, but he'd still had her pinned early on: caught between a complete lack of self-awareness and an overwhelming amount of it. Erika has less of that nervous energy, and far less of the particular kind of childishness that Akechi had always found grating in Futaba. instead, there's a directness about her that he appreciates, something he wouldn't have been able to name until the other night when they stumbled across an understanding in their tipsy haze.

she doesn't want his carefully constructed identity. which is fine, because he knows what she does want. interaction without obligation or performance, without precise steps to follow — honestly, it's a relief. that alone makes her a more preferable teacher than anyone else who could have offered.

he shrugs off the remark about her teaching skill and comes to stand by her bed, although he doesn't sit, waiting for her to direct him instead. mostly because it's her bed and it seems rude to just sit down there without invitation. ]

That's perfectly alright. I'm an excellent student, and I'm very interested in making myself useful here.

Hmm.

[Did that sound like doubt? She's not trying to be dismissive; it's just a sound for a lack of response. Erika reaches over and takes her two pillows and casts them onto the floor with only a little bit of care.]

To be honest, I don't know how useful this will be. [She unfolds her legs and slips off the bed.] As far as looking into the station goes, others and I were making a lot of progress, then hit a serious wall. More newbies doesn't solve that problem. [And sits on one of the pillows. The second, unoccupied pillow is a silent solution to the problem.] But on a personal level, knowing something is better than nothing. You won't be able to track that blank-sender message we got, but you'll know what not being able to track it means without having to beg third parties for explanations.

[She phrases it that way because she values that. And perhaps that's revealing; materially, she's offering instruction, but semantically, she's offering not usefulness but advantage.

If you want to think of it that way.

Anyways.]

Unless there's something you're more interested in being able to do. Hinata is learning how to recreate old arcade games. A lot of skills are common across areas of expertise, so I don't think there's a "wrong" starting point.

whoa, haha. really?
you must be a lot smarter than me.
or maybe just better at pretending?
if i don't make myself believe it first then i just get sort of angry when i think about it.

[ Ren can't disagree. He wasn't looking into that as an option like other, less well adjusted people but the slow roll of progress within the station was getting to him in other ways. Back home even when the Phantom Thief information gathering was going slowly there was no shortage of distractions, friends, odd jobs Ren could engage with to pass time and further his plans. Without that, it's hard not to feel... adrift in a sea that he doesn't understand and can't do a lot about. ]

The mess hall? [ A decently neutral area that Ren already knows he can plug in the water kettle at. ] I'm open to suggestions if you want somewhere less public.

The mess hall is just fine. [ he appreciates the offer of neutral ground; the tension would have been unbearable if they met in private. ] I'll meet you there.

[ Akechi's room is closer to the mess hall than Ren's, and he leaves right away, so he's waiting there already when Ren arrives, leaning up against a counter and tapping out messages on his smartwatch. it's still strange to him, having texts to respond to, conversations that he can put on hold and pick up at another time. back home, he only ever ended up using his phone to take calls from Shido, and now that he's dead, on a derelict space station in another universe, with no future and no ending — now, of all times, he spends his hours texting people he knows. spending time with them, day to day. like someone ordinary, someone who has a life of his own. like it's not far too late for that.

he's been keeping an eye out for Ren, so when he sees him, he closes the holographic display on the smartwatch and straightens up. the general air to him is tired, today; he's not smiling, and his expression is neutral, but it seems more exhausted than anything. resigned, maybe. ]

Amamiya. [ they're in public. he should be somewhat polite, even if a few people have seen the cracks in that facade already. ] So, where did you find it?

[ he looks over the mask while she talks, although he doesn't really expect to find anything visible, and it certainly feels real enough; there's a hum that he can feel under his skin more than he can hear, the same sense of power he's known since he was fourteen. he couldn't say whether it's the same, because this one isn't his, but he's fairly sure it's real.

and he means to tell her as much, but then she asks him to accompany her in testing its authenticity, which completely jars his thoughts out of order and startles a genuine reaction out of him — not just shock, but something disbelieving, almost alarmed. they've all been using him to bounce theories off of at his behest, but this is... another thing entirely. he should hardly be her first choice for moral support, or whatever this is. and yet: ]

... Of course. [ he won't pass up the opportunity to see the results for himself. if she's making an offer, he'll take advantage of it without a problem. ] Where would you like to test it? The quarters are cramped for a Persona of Milady's size, but I doubt you'd want to take this anywhere public.

[ yeah in terms of distance traveled Akechi has a certain "home field advantage", but they couldn't very well set up shop in the fitness center. Subconsciously it's possible Ren wanted some extra time to find his center, to confirm that he wasn't here with a motive other than to offer to share a simple pleasure that he's been missing, so surely others have. Giving Akechi a crack at it in a vacuum seemed like an okay way to go about it irrespective of how bizarre and uneven the playing field between them has become in less than two months.

Ren doesn't seem too much better off? It's been a tiring set of weeks and the gravity lapses have not been met with smiles and giggles. He gives a small two fingered salute touching at his temple and drops the box casually on the table that Akechi is sitting at and goes about setting up the kettle first. ]

Kinda everywhere. The command deck, the mess hall, our bathroom sink, the chapel and the... observation deck? I think that's all of them.

[ They sure made him schlep around just for a decent cup of joe, is what he means. Nothing can be easy here. ]

Just in time too because a plucky can-do attitude goes a lot further with potable caffeine.

No banana loaf, I'm afraid. Sorry.

It's one of the more comforting ideas. So...I don't want to say anything about it.

[She sniffs and teases a wafer-thin chip from the inside of the headset with the utility blade, setting it on the manual page beside its illustration.]

I'm not sure how I actually feel about it, though.

Mm, I know just what you mean. It's understandable that people would prefer some comfort in a situation like ours.

[ he's sitting across from her, watching her process with some interest; a few months ago, he likely wouldn't have taken much notice of it, and his attention would have been faked. but ever since she started teaching him the technical side of things, he's started to pay more mind to the rest of it, considered the value of the skill and even the worth of just having something to do with his fucking hands all day long.

he isn't trying to soften his expression any, either. the more time he spends with Erika, the less he bothers. ]

I suppose the question is how we were brought here in the first place. If it's some kind of uncontrolled rift in reality, then it seems unlikely that a repeat of the incident would send a person "home." But if it's a direct link between where we are and where we came from... Well, it's not impossible.

[Pick, pick, pick.

Software is useless without hardware that can properly execute it. In another world - she'd explain, when allowed to really get on a roll - hardware is Someone Else's Job, unless you make it yours, and when you make it yours you trade your trust for time. Hacking is thought of as a solitary, introspective pursuit, and that's not wrong, but hacking is also full of dependencies. As a hobby, profession, and culture, it's built on negotiating dependencies, deciding whose work to trust and whose work to eschew, usually exchanging faith in corporate product for faith in personal connections.

(Managing those personal connections, in Erika's sphere, is also Someone Else's Job.)

Under the current circumstances, though? You make do. To be a hacker is to use resources to solve a problem. Not applying yourself is just not a respectable way to go about things. If the hard way is the only way, then you're doing things the hard way.]

Mm. It raises some awkward questions for me about the motives involved...like if it's a case of being sent away, or released. [She shakes her head, though. That's kind of secondary and she doesn't want to give it too much thought right now.] I guess it's moot if we can't control or prevent it either way, but it's the way people react to it as a belief that I've been thinking about. If we rest our sense of security on thinking there's already a way out, we do better in the short term. But what happens if we get evidence that contradicts that? Maybe it's better to temper our expectations.

[She slides the sheet of dissected pieces to him to look over.]

Also, not everyone takes it the same way. It's alienating to have your needs run counter to everyone else's. Now that so many people talk about "going home" like it's a reward, or the primary goal...

[ it's funny. he's never really had a hobby, or an interest. when Akechi took something up, it used to be that it was for the purpose of presentation, and he only ever looked at it that way, as a test, as something he had to do right. learning at the pace Erika teaches him has carved out a different space in his perspective, because it can't fit where things usually do. he can't perform for her, or even for anyone else yet. so instead he has to just... consider things as they come, try to fit them into the knowledge he has now and see where the edges line up. like building a jigsaw puzzle as Erika hands him the pieces of it.

which is to say, he takes the sheet and looks it over with quiet interest, and knows that this is unusual for himself. ]

I think you've summarised the problem precisely. People tend to want goals. They find it easier to continue if they can see the light at the end of the tunnel. But there's a risk of complacency in hope, especially one that isn't under our control. [ this is where he does rein himself in a little, presents a calmer front; inside, he feels nothing but disdain for the way people are latching onto the desperate belief that the disappeared passengers have gone home. blind idealism like that has never done anyone well, and it spreads like a poison.

what Erika said takes precedent, though, and after a moment of processing it in silence, he looks at her with a hint of confusion in the way his brow furrows. ]

Ah... Mishima-san, if your needs run counter, then... [ it's an easy conclusion to move towards, since his situation is the same: ] Your goal isn't to return home?

[Immediately:] It was hypothetical.

[Almost immediately:] But, yeah.

[Her brows pull together in a very cross-with-the-world kind of look. This is...not comfortable. And she's questioning the wisdom of having told him that. The alternative would be lying outright, though, so.

Soooo.]

...Don't tell anyone, by the way.

[Said lowly. Having to ask that as a favor makes her feel kind of. Hmmrgr.]

[ Akechi watches the displeased look that comes over her, having put that information out in the open. wonders, a little, at her having told him at all. she could have dismissed it as hypothetical, and she surely knows that he wouldn't have pressed for a confession; he's always been vague, even playing the detective, and he only has to be more so now, when he's unwilling to offer anything about his own life from before the station. she didn't have to tell him the whole truth of it.

but she did tell him, and it's obvious that she doesn't like the request she has to make for secrecy. it's a vulnerability. emotional blackmail, however, is not a currency he's ever dealt in. he's not interested in it. and what good would it do him here, where he's not only alone but trapped against any enemies he might make, where there's nothing to reach for but thin threads of connections, and even then, grasping those only to keep himself secure?

a smile crosses his face — fake, only because it's a wry kind of smile, no real mirth in it. ]

I won't. [ he doesn't need emotional blackmail, or the exchange of petty favours. what Akechi has always prioritised is manipulation. ] After all, I'm the same as you.

[ never mind that it is an honest relief to be able to say that out loud to someone he's fairly certain will understand it, without preaching to him about hope or telling him that he's giving up. never mind that, if it's Erika, he's comfortable sharing this with her for no gain at all. it's manipulation. it will always be manipulation, because if it weren't, she wouldn't stay. ]

[Well. That's reasonable. And somehow she's not surprised.

She does want a moment to mull that over, though, so she hums and returns to the headset, examining a tangle of wires. She's not all that surprised - she hadn't assumed it, with nothing to base an assumtion on, but the reveal doesn't shock her, for some reason. Ande shock or surprise aside - it's nice, give that the whole topic is the future, and goals, and the kind of things that work better in groups.

That's two people who intend to stick around and cobble together a future in space, whether or not a way "home" is available. There have to be more.]

I don't think there's anything...bad about wanting different. Inherently. Or, you know, shameful. It just...you know. [Fiddle fiddle fiddle.] People get overbearing. And in the long run, if there's any tension...it seems like trouble. So obviously I won't run my mouth either.

[LET'S MOVE ON.]

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in a simpler time aka end of june ish

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