spinatalltale | [WEEK 1, FRIDAY POST-INVESTIGATION: Akira]

[WEEK 1, FRIDAY POST-INVESTIGATION: Akira]

[it isn't until sometime late evening that Magilou finally seeks him out, having wanted to give him a little space to. . . uh. have his feelings. she's no good with those, and she knows it. and even if she was a dramatic shitposter until the end of time, she wasn't in the business of rubbing salt on wounds or breaking people's hearts]

[. . . much, anyway]

[she finds him on the jungle paths, a hop to her step as she approaches, expression as lazy and languid as ever. she has her journal tucked under one arm, the quill poking out from the yellowed pages]

Baaaaby Trickster. ☆

I need a favor from you.

[OKAY MAGILOU. . .]

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[. . .]

[ugh damn it why do people have feelings]

Hey.

[the book snaps shut as she pushes away from the tree to approach him, stepping right into his personal space. RUDE. . .]

Look at me for a second.

[because not everyone has been through what've been through, magilou??? duh??

but.

well.

he will comply, looking at her more directly with a somewhat unreadable expression. he's feeling a lot of things, but his expression is hard to parse because it's so much.

at least the personal space thing doesn't seem to bother him.]

[everyone should just kill their feelings like she did smh!!]

[reaches up and pinches the bridge of his glasses, pulling them down on his nose so she can see his eyes more clearly. she's looking for that spark]

[the spark definitely still exists; it's probably more prevalent than it ever was during the rest of the week because now he has something so much more concrete to fight for.

but there are a lot of other things there that exist—sorry, magilou. he just isn't able to totally cull his feelings that way yet.]

...What are you doing?

[well at least his spark + other emotions are a stark contrast to the way her gaze is completely and utterly devoid of anything]

[she winds up slipping his glasses off of his face entirely-- sorry, Akira-- and twirling them around her finger as she steps back]

I see why you wear these, now. [she says, a hum to her words, a curl to her smile] They say a persons's eyes are the window to the soul.

[THAT'S NOT AN ANSWER. . .]

[there she goes again, stealing his glasses.

even though she's not wrong.

but he's not going to confirm or deny that.]

Stop avoiding my question. [he's suffering, please don't complicate this more, magilou.]

[VERITABLE GLASSES THIEF MAGILOU]

. . . in my experience, people tend to react one of three ways after an incident like this one. The first option is to break and shatter completely, and become nothing more than a former shell of a person.

[props a hand on her hip, head canted slightly]

The second is to avoid breaking by shutting down and sealing away one's heart. And the third. . .

[totally slips his glasses on top of her head like OKAY MAGILOU THOSE AREN'T EVEN YOURS]

Is to get angry. And one step better than that is to weaponize that anger. I wanted to see which option you were leaning towards.

[whatever. as long as she gives them back, it's fine. not that he really needs them, but he's not completely ready to drop his good schoolboy facade quite yet.

some of it has to give in order to be vigilant in finding haru's killer, but there's still so much more he needs to keep to himself.]

...And what am I leaning towards?

[it's.

probably pretty obvious, but he's trying to see how much of a read she's actually getting from his expression right now.]

[she'll give them back, don't worry]

Hard to say. I did mention that you were one tough cookie to read, didn't I?

[but. . .]

But I suppose if I were a betting woman-- which I am, incidentally-- I'd place my wager on your breaking. 100 gald that you either die here or let the gravity of the situation extinguish your spark.

[well]

[ain't that rude]

[but it also isn't at all where she'd place her bets if she actually wanted to win. not that he needs to know that-- Velvet didn't, after all. but in Magilou's experience? spite is a powerful motivator]

[it's rude, but he'll likely play right into her hands, because that sure is the kind of thng that pisses him off.

he doesn't know how much a hundred gald is worth. 100 yen? 100 dollars?

what the fuck is a gald, magilou, it sounds fake.]

Don't make bets you know can't win. [there's definitely a muted glower to it, though. really? somehow, he doubts that she really looked at him and saw anything but his anger—

but it still kind of pisses him off a little more to see her bet against him so easily.]

[YOUR YEN SOUNDS FAKE!!]

I don't.

[Magilou you lying liar who lies]

But hey! If you disagree, then I suppose you'll just have to prove me wrong.

Alright.

[casual agreement. sure? sure.

he's holding his hand out, though. glasses, please.]

[UGH!! GET ANGRY!!! WHY AREN'T YOU GETTING ANGRY!!!]

[she plucks the glasses from her head and places them back in his palm]

I'd still like to know more about her.

I'll tell you, if you really want to hear it.

[maybe he really is just a bit doubtful anyone wants to hear him actually talk about her.]

I don't tend to ask questions to which I'm not interested in the answers.

Why are you so reticent, anyway?

[don't be dubious Akira!!]

[well, at least she'll get an honest answer here.]

I'm not used to it. [talking. talking about himself, or his life, or his friends.]

[. . . you know]

[weirdly enough]

[that honest response doesn't elicit any weird dramatics or teasing from her, just a slow, understanding nod]

It never really gets easy.

[but she perks up again pretty quickly]

But I assure you, it's for a good cause!

I'm better suited for listening.

[just the tiniest bit of insight on the kind of life he leads, maybe?]

Haru, though. [he sobers up a little—it seems like he really will talk about her.]

She was the only daughter of a powerful businessman. It made her life hard and sheltered, but... she did her best. She was warm and kind, and very gentle. She didn't like the idea of people deciding her path in life for her.

It made her rebellious, but never to hurt people. Even after her father was killed, she wanted to bring justice without stooping to that level. Even when she hated someone, she could sympathize with their struggles.

[wow, magilou. you're getting words out of him.] She kept a rooftop garden at our school with vegetables. She loved trying new blends of coffee. She...

[...hold on, he needs a second. this hits a little too close to home.] She wanted to open a cafe, serving food with the things she grew and her own blends of coffee, too.

[it's almost like a cafe matters? hm.]

[her own demeanor sobers as he speaks, expression becoming uncharacteristically contemplative and serious. her quill moves with every word that tumbles from his mouth, and she says nothing to interrupt]

[when he pauses, she glances up from her journal, just to make sure that he's done]

None of this will make sense, but put it down anyway.

[he adds just a few words.]

Milady. Astarte. Psy. Fleur de Mar. Miliana.

[damn Magilou for not being from Earth so she doesn't recognize a SINGLE ONE OF THOSE PHRASES]

. . . code language. . .?

Persona.

[and one more.]

Noir. A Phantom.

[that's it.]

They're all. Connected to something close to her.

[. . . ah]

[she scrawls all those words and phrases down in her book, just as requested]

How curious.

[there's a secret here, something to be pried into and torn open and exposed for what it is. but she doesn't for the life of her know what it might be, so she doesn't ask]

[not yet]

[maybe if she goes about this the right way, she'll learn more. there's definitely a secret here.

which akira doesn't seem to be making a secret here. there's a tie to the look he often has in his eyes and these words, but he knows she'll never figure it out, either.]

It's part of talking about her. They're too entwined, and those parts need to be remembered too—even if nobody else can understand them.

[she nods]

. . . as you say.

Some secrets simply aren't meant to be shared.

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