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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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[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.