Fon Master Ion (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fragileprophet) wrote2018-07-11 02:54 pm
fragileprophet) wrote2018-07-11 02:54 pm
Week 5, Wednesday - Akechi
[Akechi will find Ion staring at a suit of armor. It's pretty clear what he's looking at: in place of its normal visor, a sharply-pointed red and gold one has been put in its place. For some reason, Ion looks...unsettled.]
...do you see that?
[It's just his imagination, isn't it? This isn't here. It can't be.]
...do you see that?
[It's just his imagination, isn't it? This isn't here. It can't be.]
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[what the fuck]
What in the--
[Akechi looks INCREDIBLY UNSURE as he reaches out to touch the edges of the sphere]
What's going on?
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[He taps his staff against it, and it rings gently, solid.]
Maybe there's something we're supposed to do to...
[Ion trails off as the setting around them changes and shifts until they're not in the castle. Not in this world--not with each other.
...
It's hard to describe where you are, but you're standing before a ledge. All around you is a void. In front of you, a boy is crouching, injured, shielding his face because his mask has fallen in the scuffle.
But it's too late, everyone has seen him, and now you know what you've suspected: you aren't the only one. The boy looks up, his expression jarring in its blatant hatred, but there's no mistaking that face. Your face.
Behind you, everyone gasps, so you take a deep breath. It's time for the truth. You step forward.
Just as I thought...you are also a replica of the Fon Master.
The others stare at you, faces torn in shock, so you persist. Your words feel like stones as they echo back in your ears.
I'm Fon Master Ion's seventh replica: the final one. You glance guiltily over your shoulder. I'm sorry. It's only been about two years since I was born.
The replica on the ground speaks then, scoffing bitterly. You had the closest abilities to the original unlike us trash.
Your stomach churns in violent discomfort.
Don't call yourself that.
He doesn't even meet your eyes, his teeth gritted in pain.
That's what I am. My powers were so weak I was cast alive into the mouth of the Mt. Zaleho volcano. A replica that can't serve as a replacement is nothing more than garbage.
You try again. Desperation claws away at your ribcage.
Don't talk like that. You can come with us--you and I are the same!
You step toward him as he staggers back to his feet and extend him a hand. You hope...you hope...
And he slaps your hand away, angry, hateful. You're used to the hatred of the Grand Maestro, but this is something different. This is an intimate, deep-seeded resentment that is much more personal than a man hating you for what you are. This is someone hating you for everything that you took away from them. Everything you never wanted, and that you can't give back. The sting in your hand travels all the way up your arm.
No, we're not. I'm only alive to be used. Only the useful ones are ever kept alive...out of pity.
You don't know what to say, but you don't have time to react as, without a word, he steps backward, off the edge of the landing you stand on, into a chasm of certain death. Your whole body feels still as you watch the void where the other you once was. Your heart is pounding so badly it hurts, but you don't move. You don't know what to do, what to say. You don't know what you feel. But your eyes are burning and raw, your face hot.
Your friend--Anise--steps forward to examine the spot where your "brother" once was, then turns to look at you and her face falls.
Ion, please don't cry.
Her words confuse you.
I'm not crying, you assure.
But, those tears...
You lift a hand to your cheek, and find it comes away wet. You still don't know what to say.
I guess I was sad, you decide. This is the first time I've ever cried.
You understand now, this wrenching in your chest. You understand that the fear was never just fear. It was always heartache. Always loneliness. Always sorrow. Always everything terrible all at once.
All this time, I had it wrong.
You shouldn't have been the one they spared.]
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[Akechi finds himself instinctively bucking against those emotions. they aren't foreign-- loneliness, heartache, sorrow-- but oh, how he wishes they were. by now, he knows exactly how to lash back against those feelings. he knows how to defend himself]
[and that is with bitterness and anger]
[he hisses and jerks back, the visor clattering onto the ground at his feet. he'd say something, he'd shout and yell and cry out angrily that everything about Ion's life is bullshit, but]
[well]
[there's another memory]
[it lasts all the way until 5:10]
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Ion staggers as if he's been winded, bringing his hands to cover his eyes.]
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[in a way that's almost. . . scared? how will Ion, giving and caring and selfless Ion, who called himself Akechi's friend despite knowing exactly what kind of person he is, react to a memory like that?]
[he almost doesn't want to stick around to find out]
[but his feet are rooted to the spot, even if every inch of him is screaming]
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He feels ill.
And when he speaks--without thinking, it's such a baffling to say. And yet, it's so typical Ion.]
I'm so sorry--that was a horrible breach of your privacy.
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[why is that. . . the first thing out of his mouth? it should be expected, but Akechi feels bewildered nonetheless. his shoulders are stiff as he stares at Ion with a mixture of fear and bemusement, hand still pressed against his face]
Was it not a breach of your privacy on my part as well?
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[The self-deprecating honest is stated as such a simple fact. Like it’s nothing relevant. Nothing surprising.]
I...
[There’s a knot in his throat that’s hard to speak around.]
I’m just trying to understand.
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What is there not to understand?
[he says, words clipped. he's closing off. of course he is; Ion's disappointment. . . is disappointment he doesn't want to see. and so, he lashes out first]
I killed someone. I killed someone and I enjoyed it. Is that not who I am?
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No...enjoyment? I don't think so. You're more than that.
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No. That's bullshit. It's who-- who I am. Who I'll always be. Why don't you understand?
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[Only two years old. He said so, said so in his wish. It's just so much to take in.]
I can't believe that you would enjoy taking anyone's life. What you want...it's something more than that, isn't it? What you'd sacrifice such a thing for, it must mean so much to you.
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[Ion hits the nail on the head, more firmly than Akechi is willing to admit. he curls his fingers into his bangs, tugging on them as he shuts his eyes, expression still contorted]
It-- [it's worth it. it's been worth it since the beginning] It. . . does mean something to me.
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I couldn't...lie to you, and tell you that I'm willing to accept what I just saw, but if you tried to tell me that that was nothing more than murder for the sake of cold-heartedness, I'd only call you a liar, too.
[This is probably the most heated he's felt since his last conversation to Sandalphon, so he has to take another breath.]
You're an ambitious person. You told me yourself...you have a story to get back to, and to keep telling. He got in your way and you felt threatened...is that what happened?
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. . . yes.
[Kurusu had always been nothing but an obstacle. his brand of justice clashed so brilliantly with Akechi's that he had to be removed from the equation. he knew that long before Shido made the call to take him out]
[and yet. . .]
I don't kill because I enjoy it.
[ah. going back on what he said earlier, it seems. something more honest. only because it's Ion]
I never have.
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Thank you. I know that was probably hard for you to admit.
[But it's a good thing. It's a good thing.]
I'm sure that it hurts, to live with the actions you aren't proud of.
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[he clenches his hands into fists and loosens them again]
I've stopped feeling anything remotely resembling guilt.
[there are some crimes he doesn't feel bad for. people he's killed that he believed deserved it. and he still doesn't feel torn up about Soo-Won. . . sacrifices had to be made in this game, right?]
I'm detached. [ah] I simply do what I must do, in order to achieve what it is I need to achieve.