Week four - The meeting
[This isn't something he's looking forward to, but it's something that has to be done.
Later on in the day, when people have stopped checking out the new places so much, Ichigo goes towards the place with all the weird vending machines in it, leaning against a wall and looking like he's getting ready to hear news that someone he loved has died.
And, well. In a way....
He's quiet for the entire wait, until Alex arrives - and then he pushes off the wall, keeping his head down and his hands tucked into the sleeves of his Shihakusho, off to find Akira and talk to him.
Let's do this.]
Later on in the day, when people have stopped checking out the new places so much, Ichigo goes towards the place with all the weird vending machines in it, leaning against a wall and looking like he's getting ready to hear news that someone he loved has died.
And, well. In a way....
He's quiet for the entire wait, until Alex arrives - and then he pushes off the wall, keeping his head down and his hands tucked into the sleeves of his Shihakusho, off to find Akira and talk to him.
Let's do this.]

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We, ah....we need to talk to you. Alone. Will you come with us?
[Because this would be easier to do if they were in a less....easily overheard area.]
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Somewhere a little quieter.
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[another pause, and Akira's gaze flickers between them again, eyes narrowing, squinted kind of suspiciously??]
. . . okay, but you two look so serious that I'm halfway convinced you're going to drag me into an alleyway and mug me? So.
[THAT. . . that line is delivered lightly, an obvious attempt at interjecting some levity in this situation]
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But, instead, he shakes his head, managing to look directly at him for once, seriously.]
We're not going to - It's...we've just got to talk about some things, alright? It's important. Right, Alex?
[Please help him out here, he feels like he's going to die if he keeps this up.]
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[ Alex Does Not Do Well With Tension ]
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Oh. Huh. In that case, do I have time to go hide my ripcoins so you can't get to them?
I haven't bought lunch this week yet.
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Normally, he'd groan or be the straight man, but his emotions are just in too much turmoil to joke around - and so, without saying anything, he turns around and starts heading for the door.]
Follow me whenever you're ready.
[He says it a bit harshly, although he doesn't mean to. It's just....hard to do this, is all.]
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Looks like there's no time to bury the cash.
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[that gets Akira to drop his joking demeanor pretty quickly, smile fading, turning into the same neutrality he forced before. he watches Ichigo's back for a moment, before he flips the comic book shut and deposits it back into the rack]
[with his hands in his pockets, he leans over to mutter at Alex, specifically, because she appreciates good humor]
Time to say goodbye to that Muffy from Two-Piece figure I was saving for.
[. . .]
[ANYWAY, HE'S FOLLOWING, I'M SORRY ABOUT HIM]
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Still, they head back to the vending machine alley, with all the macaroon soaps and literal raw eggs.
And once there,once they're safely alone? He can't hold it in any longer, and levies Akira with a hard stare that's at once pained and determined.]
....We know you're a Reaper, Akira.
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1/2
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[listen Alex doesn't deserve to be in the middle of this, again I'm so sorry]
[when he speaks, his tone is level]
. . . you sound awfully certain about that.
[he leans to the side, shoulder bumping up against one of the vending machines]
How would you know?
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Once he's calmed himself - or, at least, made it so his voice won't crack and turn to pained noises when speaking, feeling his own guts writhe and twist around - he lets himself say the words that will tell Akira everything.]
...Because we got your letter today. And...because we confirmed you were a Reaper today, too.
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she does still chime in a soft: ]
And for once, we actually got to you first.
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[there are many responses to that question that would've had Akira deflecting, out of a suspicion that they were just digging for a confession he didn't have to give. after being completely on guard for nearly five weeks, watching his back, choosing his words carefully, biting his tongue every time he wanted to speak out against Player misconceptions. . . deflection for the sake of protecting himself is just instinct]
[but then Ichigo mentions the note. the note. the note, the note that they actually listened to, against all odds and warnings that said they wouldn't]
[he doesn't know if he should be relieved. . . or even more concerned for his hide than he was before. especially since. . .]
[back to Ichigo]
You know, this would have been a little easier if we had talked the other night.
[it's pointed, said a bit forcefully, but it isn't meant to be a barb. it isn't like Akira can say anything about lying without being a dirty damn hypocrite, and he sure as shit knows it]
Ah, well. . .
[and his tone turns deceptively casual, eyes slipping shut as he asks]
Are you going to kill me?
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[Again, there's a harsh note in his voice at that - a quickly fading one, but one tinged with raw emotions. He breathes in, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose before continuing.]
We're - not going to kill you. Not yet.
[But...it's definitely a yet. There are only so many endings to this Game, after all - and everyone here knows it.
Even if the thought of Akira dying still makes his heart feel like it's dropped to his knees.]
But...we wanted to know what you meant by the letter. We're here, so...talk to us, Akira.
[The implied 'for once hangs in the air, unspoken but a physical presence as Ichigo finishes speaking, still staring at Akira with a mixture of pain, regret, and a desperate attempt to understand.]
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If we were going to kill you, we wouldn't pull you aside to talk.
[ she knows that the letter could just as easily have been a trap. but she doesn't think it was. that kind of gambit sounds too dangerous. even if it does count on them already knowing who he is. it still seems like a trap that would leave him too vulnerable.
so he must actually have something to say. ]
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[but not without taking a breath first. to steel himself. he likes both Ichigo and Alex, and honestly? at the beginning of the Game, he never really envisioned himself. . . well. here]
I don't think many people realize how much Max is actually willing to tell us, so long as we shake him down for answers.
[he starts there. because everything began with Max]
You know, we didn't even know you guys existed until the last trial? Imagine how we felt when Max confirmed there were seven Reapers left after Enoshima, instead of the expected two. Your advantage in this Game is pretty incredible-- you're slotted into a "helpful" position, a position that lets you earn the trust of the other Players, without them being suspicious of your motives.
[he cracks one eye open, leveling it on them both]
Have you ever asked yourselves "why?"
[maybe it was just Akira's nature. maybe it was just because he despised the role the Composer forced him into, one which would compromise everything for which he stood. but "why" has been the question on his mind for the past near five weeks]
[and he's only starting to piece together the answer]
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Nothing Akira was saying was anything Ichigo hadn't thought about before. This was too easy and they were far too safe - especially for the role they played.
This was a Game that was unfair at the outset for those who were told to murder, and the words Terra once said to him echo in his head -
'The composer chooses who we kill.'
Was that the truth? Was any of what Akira was going to say the truth? For his own sake, he desperately wants to believe - but there were so many what ifs, and he questioned if he really knew the person in front of him as well as he once thought he did.
It's those thoughts that make him falter, opening his mouth and then shutting it after a moment of being able to speak, looking away again.]
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it's not like Alex condemns the other Reapers. she's had to Erase people from games in the past. the way she sees things, even if they are truly enemies here, it's just unfortunate luck. she isn't as desperate to see Akira as a good guy as Ichigo is.
but that doesn't mean she won't hear him out.
she shrugs. ]
We're still Reapers, to them. To the rules.
[ getting outed was still a risk, even with this kind of role. ]
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[he turns his attention towards Alex, head tilted, and lets out a soft snort]
You are. That's right. You aren't aligned with them, just as we aren't. There are effectively three different teams playing this Game: yours, mine, and the Players. And you're two Reapers away from taking home a victory.
[he kicks at the ground, pushing away from the vending machine to eye them both critically]
One team given an advantage above all others-- yours. One team that has neither advantage nor disadvantage, but is forced to participate in this Game even more blind than we are-- the Players.
And one team given the dirtiest, most hated job that can exist in a Game like this one, forced into the spotlight every single week through trials-- mine.
. . . any betting man worth is salt would place a wager on your team to win, no questions asked. The chances of anyone else prevailing in this kind of environment is practically zero to none.
[. . .]
And what if there is someone placing wagers on the outcome of this Game?
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Still, he can't speak - he just can't - because it's like something is blocking off his voice until Akira's done speaking, and he slowly leans against a nearby wall, just watching his partner's every move.]
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yet. ]
Aaaand you know who that is? Our mystery gambler?
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[she. very purposeful use of she]
I don't know anything else about the other-- ah, "gamblers," but these are the facts I do know. Gathered from Max, the Conductor, and the Composer herself.
[he recites them all, one by one, as though repeating exactly what he was told, even as he folds his arms and leans against the vending machine again]
The Composer built the Game this way in order to prove something.
This Game exists for the purpose of settling a dispute between the Composer and the Conductor. But despite that, both of them want the same thing: for everyone-- everyone-- to get their second chance.
There are others, beyond the Composer and the Conductor, who are benefiting from this setup in ways I don't yet know.
[another breath. he's saying so much, and doing his best to stay calm during it all. but he's been so busy these past few weeks, and his ferreting around looking for answers has taken a visible toll of exhaustion on him]
With the setup of this Game being as it is. . . what do you think it would take for us to hit the time limit, and reach a neutral end where none of our teams win?
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His eyes widen as he hears that - did the composer herself meet Akira? and talk to him? His mind races with the knowledge, as well as learning that both involved parties apparently want to give people their second chance. And that there are other involved parties, as well?
It's a lot, but what really catches his attention is the implication Akira's putting forth - that there's one way for them to hit the time limit, if that's really what the Composer wants.
Could it be...?]
....Work together...
[It slips past his lips before he can stop himself, in the middle of realizing what Akira's driving at. It's such a tiny two words, but...
Maybe...]
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it'll just disappoint you more in the end. sometimes you have to be satisfied with scraps of what you wanted. the rules don't bend that much. her gaze darts to Ichigo, then back to Akira. ]
I'm not against working together. It's not like I'm dismissing that. But - we weren't exactly the ones doing the killing. So now that we're right about to win you want to work together? Now that you're losing, you want to turn it into a draw? That's convenient.
What, are you just going to not kill from here on out? You don't exactly need our permission.
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It's easy to say "we weren't exactly the ones doing the killing" when you don't have a gun to your head telling you to "Erase someone this week or we Erase you." We never asked for this.
[his words are sharp and bitter, hissed through clenched teeth, which is like. . . the only indication that he's trying to hold himself back. this is nearly five weeks of pent up anger and frustration, five weeks of slamming his head against the brick wall of his role, trying to find a way to escape it, to quit, to break his chains and change the narrative the Composer gave him, just like he did back home]
[to steadfastly refuse to turn into himself into a killer]
[his hands are balled into fists, knuckles white, and he forces himself to take a deep breath to calm himself]
. . . I don't give a shit about winning, Alex. And neither does my one remaining teammate. Neither of us have ever wanted to kill anyone. We still don't. I wasn't lying about that.
[he continues, word strained, voice raw. focus]
This Game-- [a breath, and he lifts a hand to scrub at his face, fingers dipping underneath his glasses] This Game is bullshit. It's been bullshit since the very beginning.
The only thing I have ever wanted to do, from the moment I woke up here, was find a way to break it. And from. . . the moment I learned it was possible to save the Erased, that became my goal, too.
I'm not here because I want to turn a loss into a draw. If my team's loss would save the Erased and give everyone their second chance, I'd throw myself in front of your bullet in an instant. So long as. . . [he glances over at Ichigo. for emphasis] Someone was there to partner with him, so he didn't fall with me.
I'm here because the Players and, most importantly, the Erased, don't deserve this.
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It dredges up old memories and feelings so violently he feels nauseous, and grits his teeth to keep from throwing up.
Though in the end, it's Akira's admission that he'd die for Ichigo if he knew Ichigo had a partner to pact with that nearly gets him to speak again, eyes wide and panic flashing on his face -]
I - !
[He doesn't want anyone to ever die for his sake again, but the words he wants to scream out won't come and his conflicted emotions on all of this rise up and choke him from the inside out.
So he just makes a noise and shuts his eyes hard, lifting a hand to his face and looking like he's desperately trying to keep himself from breaking down.]
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What I mean is - what happens to the gun to your head?
[ Alex doesn't think it's necessarily a great idea to do it - but she reaches out to set a hand on Ichigo's arm even so. maybe she just did it for an excuse to stay quiet for a moment. she kind of expects him to swat her away.
it's too much to get her hopes up for any real deviation. stick to the script. that's how these games work. she believes in Akira's sincerity, really, she does. but if they're "forced to kill," then how does "stopping" work? ]
Neither of you are cut out for this.
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Max made that real clear on day one.
[he's slumped against the vending machine again, not looking at either of them. especially since if he does glance Ichigo's way, he'll be tempted to reach out and take a gentle hold of his arm, give it a squeeze, just to let his partner know that he's there. just as he had so many times in the past, when things got really bad, when Ichigo really needed the comfort]
[when things were a little different than they are now]
[he resists the urge, however strong it might be. now isn't the time. not. . . not when things are like this]
. . . I don't know.
[an honest answer to her question, which. . . ultimately? is a very good one. what does happen to that metaphorical gun?]
I don't know. I've been trying for four-going-on-five weeks to find a way to get rid of it, but I don't know-- [he cuts himself off, mouth shutting with a click]
. . . and that's why-- that's why all three teams working together to reach the time limit is such an impossibility. Because all of us agreeing to aim for that ending means some people will need to make sacrifices.
[. . .]
I don't know how much I believe in anyone's goodwill any more. But I have to try.
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The both of them have good points - but he's not afraid to sacrifice, not at all. Her comment about not being cut out for this makes laughter bubble up in his throat, even if he doesn't let it loose, because...He's no stranger to killing, not in the slightest.
Just because he hates killing doesn't mean he's never done it, and he still feels like he has the blood of all the reapers they've executed on his hands, adding to the blood of the Players he's Erased before.
In his heart? He wants nothing more than to join Akira in his suggestion, to seek an ending that won't damn the dead and the Reapers - but their lives are already tied together as it is.]
...Thank you.
[His voice is quiet, still emotional - but it's there, after being silent so long.]
For talking to us. For - telling us what you know.
[For being brave enough to trust in them.]
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[ she's not arguing because she wants to. she's just trying to be pragmatic. optimism only carries you so far. rules don't bend. scripts don't change. so while she doesn't really have confidence in any of this...
it can't hurt to try? because hey, maybe she'll get a nice illusion of a happy ending for a minute. that kind of thing can be nice, when you know to appreciate it before it's gone. ]
We'll think about it, yeah? I mean, really, this plan is just you asking not to be killed yet. It's asking us to trust you a little longer.
And I guess I'm down with that.
[ perseverance doesn't always pay off how you hope. but sometimes it still pays off in little ways. ]
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[because success only happens if you at least try, no matter how great the chance of failure]
[he still doesn't turn to look at them. still can't bring himself to, after everything. but maybe he's just. . . tired]
Thanks for. . . actually listening to my note. Instead of just writing it off.
[even if this doesn't work out, for that reason, and that alone? he's grateful]
. . . all we need is for one person from my team to make it to eight weeks. It doesn't. . . have to be me.
[he's already prepared for it to not be him, truthfully]
Because between everything I already told you, and everything the Composer told me today when I met with her-- that communication is vital for the success of this Game, and that we'll have a better chance of achieving what we want with regards to reviving the Erased the longer the Game lasts-- I really think that's the right answer.
[. . .]
As much as it fucking sucks.
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That just reminds him of what he said, what seems like so very long ago.]
...This game is all about Trust. I...can't say what the Composer wanting, setting it up like this - but I can see what we have to do.
We have to trust each other, don't we? To make it to the end.
[He's silent for a long moment, contemplating that - and then he nods, slowly, still looking conflicted but less emotional than he did a bit ago.]
Alright. We'll....have to talk to the rest of our team about this. So...we'll see what happens.
[He wants this to go forward. He really does. But it's not just up to him, or Alex - it's up to everyone, and what they think is the best outcome.
He moves away from the wall, giving a gentle sigh.]
...See you around, I guess.