'Horrible' was a word for it. "No... no, it wouldn't. You can figure it out for yourself. If my mother had never died, if my 'father' were a better man... It's pointless, and sad, to think about that. What happened was real and it was mine. Even if it was one fuckup after another..."
He felt himself pulled along, as his past self walked. The train ride passed by in a blur, as he caught up on what he'd missed. New Years' well-wishes on his blog, case notes from Sae, a few photos put up in the group chat- he didn't respond, at the moment, wanted to put off letting the others know he'd been released until he'd gotten home, at least, but he did postdate an e-mail to his publicist about his release.
Akasaka was beautiful, this time of year. It always was- but in such an affluent neighborhood there were always decorations outside, celebrations of the new year and the winter holidays. And, as his past self emerged from the stairs up from the subway, he found himself intercepted by arms around his shoulders and a mass of sandy-blonde hair- like his.
Hinawa Akechi was beautiful, in a way she'd never been in life. Her face was fuller and less lined, even if she was older now than she had been. Her eyes bright and full of laughter, a warm fur coat covering her frame that wasn't as thin as it would've been.
And behind her, waiting at the car, was the same bald man that had dragged him into that office, that had ordered him to kill, to murder, to lie and steal and cheat- Shido. Gruff, standoffish, but wearing a smile that was too warm for his face.
And then he was in the car, the ministerial limousine, listening to his parents talk about what he'd missed. To his mother, tearful and happy to have him back, how he had to have been so frightened . To his father, who'd angrily decried the state of the police forces in this country, promised to make sure whoever was responsible lost their job- And that smiling boy faltered, as they walked into a home that was more of a mansion, for a house in Tokyo.
Faltered, because Shido had touched him, clapped a hand on his shoulder and called him son, and he'd had no idea why that made his skin crawl, made bile rise in his throat. Faltered because his mother had made him breakfast, put a heaping pile of french toast in front of him and promised him as much as he wanted- that since he'd missed Christmas, they were going to do it late this year-
And it was all wrong. Every bit of it false, wrong, incorrect somehow, in a way that set his teeth on edge.
no subject
He felt himself pulled along, as his past self walked. The train ride passed by in a blur, as he caught up on what he'd missed. New Years' well-wishes on his blog, case notes from Sae, a few photos put up in the group chat- he didn't respond, at the moment, wanted to put off letting the others know he'd been released until he'd gotten home, at least, but he did postdate an e-mail to his publicist about his release.
Akasaka was beautiful, this time of year. It always was- but in such an affluent neighborhood there were always decorations outside, celebrations of the new year and the winter holidays. And, as his past self emerged from the stairs up from the subway, he found himself intercepted by arms around his shoulders and a mass of sandy-blonde hair- like his.
Hinawa Akechi was beautiful, in a way she'd never been in life. Her face was fuller and less lined, even if she was older now than she had been. Her eyes bright and full of laughter, a warm fur coat covering her frame that wasn't as thin as it would've been.
And behind her, waiting at the car, was the same bald man that had dragged him into that office, that had ordered him to kill, to murder, to lie and steal and cheat- Shido.
Gruff, standoffish, but wearing a smile that was too warm for his face.
And then he was in the car, the ministerial limousine, listening to his parents talk about what he'd missed. To his mother, tearful and happy to have him back, how he had to have been so frightened . To his father, who'd angrily decried the state of the police forces in this country, promised to make sure whoever was responsible lost their job-
And that smiling boy faltered, as they walked into a home that was more of a mansion, for a house in Tokyo.
Faltered, because Shido had touched him, clapped a hand on his shoulder and called him son, and he'd had no idea why that made his skin crawl, made bile rise in his throat. Faltered because his mother had made him breakfast, put a heaping pile of french toast in front of him and promised him as much as he wanted- that since he'd missed Christmas, they were going to do it late this year-
And it was all wrong. Every bit of it false, wrong, incorrect somehow, in a way that set his teeth on edge.