[log; open] will the memories of our morals fade

[simulatio]

Who: Goro Akechi
When: November 20
Where: Around Gloucester, in the gym, Bonnie's flophouse, ADI apartments
Summary: Goro Akechi's no-good, very-bad daytrip down memory lane
Warnings: Persona 5 spoilers, smoking

A.

[Akechi wakes up like it's any normal day -- rolling out of bed to the sound of his alarm going off at 5am to get dressed in sweatpants and a jacket. Some light smudge-proof makeup, and he's out the door for his usual jog. While he doesn't have to get up early to get some exercise in before a TV shoot or school, and thank God he doesn't have to deal with any obnoxious "fans" anymore, there's comfort in routine. The nearest bouldering facility is a bus ride away and he'd rather not waste money on a bicycle he doesn't need, so running it is.

It isn't until the brisk morning air hits his face and he fully wakes up partway through the run that he slows with sudden thought, checks the date on his phone. November 20th.

...Ah. There are only two people in this world who even understand the significance of that date. In an instant, it's like he's transported back to that small underground room, feeling the weight of a real pistol in hand for the first time, a light wisp of smoke drifting from the barrel. He only comes back to himself at the frantic noise of a pedestrian ringing a bike bell and shouting for him to get out of the way, to which Akechi leaps back belated and snarls something about getting off the fucking sidewalk and using the road, flipping off the cyclist for good measure.

It hasn't been a full year yet, and yet by this calendar, it has. Almost without seeing it, he retreats back to lean against the closest building, lost in thought and memory.]

B.

[Distraction is the name of the game today. Later that morning, he can be found in the training area, pistol in hand, essentially wasting ADI's ammunition and their good-will. Anyone who frequents the area would know that he's ordinarily an excellent shot, favoring his left hand only with an unshaking aim.

Not today. Today most of his shots go wide, and his teeth grit and eyes blaze in clear frustration. He's getting worse as he burns through magazine after magazine, until he finally gives up and, with obvious difficulty, doesn't hurl the pistol at the paper target. Instead, he returns it with a strained smile and casts an appraising eye around the rest of the gym.]

I don't suppose anyone is available for a spar?

C.

[In keeping with the theme of "absolutely nothing going fucking right," Akechi's in the kitchen of the first floor of Bonnie's flophouse, stirring something on the stove. It smells vaguely like chocolate, vanilla, and cinnamon, but that's largely overpowered by the smell of scalded milk.]

Shit!

[He yanks the pot off the stove and frantically scrapes at the bottom, trying to see if he can salvage it. He's trying to make hot chocolate for when Ren comes home, but if the mess of dumped-out milk in the sink is any indication, it's... not exactly going well.

Please help him.]

D. [cw: smoking]

[Smoking is more Ren's habit than Akechi's, and yet, tonight feels like a good night for one. He's outside ADI's apartments in the early evening with a cigarette in hand, staring pensively into the night. He genuinely did never think he'd make it this far, a year out from that fateful encounter in the interrogation room. Sure, none of it had actually been real, and in some respects, the actual experience hadn't been nearly as bad as the nightmares he'd suffered only a few weeks prior.

But still, it lingers, like the stench of the cigarette smoke seeping into his winter jacket. Funny how the Detective Prince wouldn't be caught dead with such a filthy habit, and it certainly doesn't match the image of the goody-two-shoes young man he's been trying to project here at ADI. But right now, he can't bring himself to care.

He inhales deeply and exhales a cloud of smoke, tapping some ash off the end of the cigarette to the ground. Maybe he should mention his thoughts to Ren, but if the other boy hasn't mentioned the date, he certainly isn't going to be the one to bring it up. His lip curls in distaste -- really, who the fuck is he to be upset about something like that when Ren is the one who suffered most greatly. He'd thought he'd been above this kind of pointless navel-gazing, but here he is.

Fuck, but it's cold out here.]

Comments

[forethinking]

(Ren's acrobatic skills go beyond the Metaverse, courtesy of Yoshizawa, so when his elbow is compromised, Ren twists backward, free hand sinking on the ground as his foot finds Akechi's chest to push away.

Once he's back to his feet, the dagger points towards him. Come.)