[ You don't have to greet me like we're friends. Irritation rises up against his back before he looks away. He is just saying hello. People do that. Kei rests his hand against his eye, lightly rubbing with the heel of it, as he follows after. He shuts the door with his free hand and it feels final.
He doesn't like it. ]
Pardon the intrusion. [ A beat. ] Yes, black.
[ His hand drops as he looks around, noting the piles of books. ] You're well-read. [ It doesn't sound like a compliment. Kei already wishes for a cup of coffee in his hand to drink so he wouldn't say anything. Wesker said, he reminds himself, that he would not be able to stop. Conscience and guilt would be unable to stop his interest. ]
But I don't mind the mess. It feels like you live here. [ That also doesn't sound like a compliment, but it doesn't sound like an insult, either.
He sighs audibly as he walks toward the couch, letting out an extra sigh as he sits down. ] It's good that you know you are a fool. I don't need to get into it then-- [ He stops as he notices the cat watching him from a safe distance. ] Are you still upset about how I used your life against him? Come now, you are still alive and well. Honestly, if you had stayed with me, you would be doing equally well with a cat fanatic. Both of you would probably be very happy right now.
[ odasaku calls out from the kitchen, not really caring for whether or not kei’s comment is an insult or not. he knows that it’s surprising for someone like him to be seen checking out five or more books from the library at a time, but that’s how he is.
or, well, now he’s only checking out two at a time. work does hold him back.
he does manage to hear the cat hiss which gets oda to actually turn around to see what is happening in his living room. akage’s all bristled, as if holding her territory from the Very Tall Man that threatened her life days ago. at least someone is smart in this house. ]
Stop bullying the cat, Kei. She’ll bite you. [ and he turns back towards the kitchen in order to serve their respective cups of coffee. both black, oda realizes, and he feels like this is some sort of bad omen. still, there’s nothing that can be done anymore. stepping out of the kitchen, he hands his cup of coffee to kei and sits down on a seat in front of him. ]
[ He holds his hands up in surrender to show he will leave the cat alone. She has served his purpose for him and so holds no worth anymore. ]
I am not surprised you are well-read. [ Kei closes his eyes and lets out yet another sigh. ] I used to read a lot. People assumed I enjoyed it, but I didn't. [ He wants to rest his head on the back of the couch but that is being too familiar with his surroundings. He straightens how he sits instead. ] I gathered stories upon stories because I wanted to understand. The things people write about come from their souls. They are bearing something of themselves in what they write. Something vulnerable, something fragile.
Whether it is a good or bad book didn't matter. Whether it was a work of passion, for money, for just because they wanted to try... I could peel apart the reasons by the time the last page turned. [ The emptiness grew inside of him, however. He had nothing to give the world; he had nothing so vulnerable inside. He had nothing that called to others. ]
Eventually, I stopped. I came to realize that I would understand the author but I wouldn't understand the characters. I wouldn't be able to see into what was lovingly or clumsily woven together ... I would only see the person. ] He takes the cup from Oda, feeling the warmth of the coffee against his palms is welcome. ]
I found other books, however, to read over and over. [ Religion-based texts. ] So it doesn't surprise me that you are well-read. [ He repeats. ] The reasons you are ... They are different than mine but you are still...
[ A slight beat. ] I am getting off-topic. So, where exactly do you want me to start, Sakutarou Oda?
[ fully ignoring kei’s question, odasaku feels as if he’s in some sort of trance, watching a scene thats no longer his apartment or kei’s annoying presence.
he’s in a cafe, speaking to a bearded man he doesn’t recognize. and what that bearded man tells him is— ]
To write about lives is to write about people.
[ snapping out of the trance, he sees kei’s annoying face once more, but manages not to pay any attention to it. there’s a strange feeling in his chest due to this stranger. something... that makes him feel whole. added with a sip of the black coffee, odasaku can’t help but feel content, underneath the deadpan exterior. ]
That’s what someone told me once. Past me. If you don’t understand people, you won’t be able to understand the characters—because they all got lives of their own. Even if it’s just made for the money, every story’s got its own life. A writer writes people. How they live and how they die. Even the books you read are probably like that, you just don’t notice it ‘cause you’re neck deep in your own emptiness or whatever.
[ He looks down at the coffee rather than to look at Oda's face. Kei feels he will not lose himself to interest if he does so -- it's childish and he despises it. The black of the coffee makes him think of what's filling up his own emptiness. His eyes narrow at it before he brings the cup up to take a small sip. No need to be so dramatic.
When Oda starts to speak, again, Kei does give a brief look at him. He thought that he would tell him where he wanted to begin, but he didn't -- and he did. ]
You believe this is something that I did to myself, as you did? You believe I am like this by choice? [ He huffs a laugh over the rim of the cup before he takes another drink. Sighing loudly, he tastes the coffee on his breath. ] I was born this way, Sakutarou Oda. Nothing happened to me to make me this way. No great tragedy. I simply was born as I am -- an empty person. I have never been truly happy in my entire life.
[ There is no bitterness in his words, however. There is no sorrow, either. Kei merely states a fact about himself. ] I am only ever content. Yet you... you decide that you would empty your entire self out. For what reason would you decide that you had to give yourself up? And why didn't you simply complete the process? You still feel it, don't you -- happiness?
[ His tone shifts as he smiles. The smiles that he has been giving every time that he writes Oda a text. He doesn't quite realize that he is showing such a hideously wide, pleased look, but he does. ] You feel it because you want to protect your loved ones. The desire to protect comes from experiencing joy that you do not want to give up on.
And what does it matter to you if I do feel happiness? Why does it matter to you if I’m half empty or mutilated?
[ and there is the main question in oda’s head. it’s the thing he can’t understand, no matter the amount of texts he receives from kei. whether he’s empty or not, happy or not, shouldn’t be a problem for someone who, until a month ago, was absolutely irrelevant in odasaku’s life.
and yet, every time he hears that word, all he can see is the reflection of his younger self, accepting the job to kill someone, followed by his current self, a hollowed out shell with nothing but anger to fuel it. ]
I don’t know why I’m like this. [ he takes another drink of his coffee. despite kei’s expression, he remains listless, unwavering. ] Going by the memories I had before the app, I should be normal. But I’m not. ‘Cause those memories aren’t true in the first place, I think.
I was an assassin, y’know? Was just a kid when I got that memory. And you know what the “me” of that memory felt? Nothing. You could’ve been telling me to wash the dishes or something and I would’ve had the same reaction.
But I’m not like that anymore. You know that much. Something filled me up after that memory and then that got taken away, too. That’s just how my life is.
[ He does not raise his voice; he does not feel any anger. As he has always said, anger comes from a place of righteousness. He feels no righteousness in his behavior so there can be no anger. The cup rests against his lips before he tips it back to drink, burning his tongue and throat, but he feels pleasant about it. Like he is pouring water over a flame, leaving it but smoldering ash. ]
And your friends only love you as much as you love yourself. Which is to say, it is a hollow affection that they have for you. They see you as you are and leave you to it. [ He grips the cup as he decides to finish his thought before conquering the issue of finding out that Oda was an assassin. Of course, you were. ] Yet you cling to that the empty friendships that could be real.
You were born incomplete rather than defective. Incomplete means that you can still build within yourself something. The pieces may not fit as well as if you were built to have them, but they will fit. I, however, cannot even manufacture parts for myself. [ Kei readily calls himself a defect; no human being should live the way that he lives. The only meaning to his life is to show others how they should not. ] Yet I don't believe you want your life to have the same meaning as mine. Do you wish to just be a cautionary tale, Sakutarou Oda?
Is that what you want to go bleeding into your stories written about people? What weight do the people that you write have when you made yourself only partially weightless? [ It only calms the flames, he realizes. He cannot stop himself; a smile dances on his lips as he brings the cup down to rest in his lap, held carefully in his hands. His thumbs rub along the lip of it as he speaks with a little too much cheer: ]
Or perhaps, your life will have meaning if you were to kill me.
[ odasaku shakes his head, almost disappointed at kei’s taunt. having heard all that, and he somehow thinks that meaning will come to oda’s life if he managed to take his life.
the surprising thing is that, despite all the stress, the idea of killing kei had never even crossed his mind. even now, he doesn’t think about it. ]
I don’t want to kill you. [ he shakes his head, taking a sip from the coffee, ignoring the burn as it goes down his throat. ] I was an assassin and I was a mafioso, but now I’m neither of these things. I’m just a writer. And if I gotta sacrifice the rest of my meaning in order for my characters to have some, then I don’t mind. I’ll do it without a second thought.
[ He holds the cup in one hand as his other hand gestures to Oda himself. ] I don't say that because I have any desire to cling to life, however. I merely have no wish of making you into a murderer.
[ There is yet another sigh as he lifts the cup up for another deep drink. He pauses as he looks down in it as he swallows to see that the contents are all but gone. ] But I don't deny that would finish the mutilation that has already begun. I merely have no wish to see it to its fruition by my own hand. Your ruin should come by your own hand and yours alone, so you have no one else to blame.
Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance. You can only wish to repent once you have fallen on your own.
[ His eyebrows lift in a manner to mock the expression of surprise at the comment about characters and giving up his own life meaning for them. ] And who are the people in your stories, Sakutarou Oda? Can you see them clearly? Can you know them? The writer writes about people, but you have shut yourself off from them.
[ odasaku mumbles when he recognizes that line, his eyes parting from kei and settling on one book that’s on the top of a small stack— the bible. a book he’s read many times, but one that holds the same meaning to him as most of his fiction novels.
still, he knows that this line wasn’t said haphazardly; there’s meaning in those words as well. your ruin should come by your hand and yours alone. it’s so ominous, that it’s almost laughable, as if kei is somehow sealing his fate— or maybe it’s already sealed to begin with.
he doesn’t laugh. instead, he closes his eyes, sighing into his cup of coffee. ]
I’m writing about myself. Because I can’t understand anyone well enough, I’ve decided to write about the only person I can understand: myself.
This may surprise you but I am also a religious man.
[ It is, in that explanation, that the talk of salvation and repentance are not simply fluff words for Kei. He is not simply using them in order to intimidate Oda, but that he wholly believes in those ideals. But it also shows some of the twisted portions of his mind with his own faith. ]
I would like to read that book, then. I feel like if I had it... I could come to understand you. [ The cup is empty, and he frowns, as he sets it on top of one of the stacks of books. It is the small one with the Bible; he slides the Bible out to have the cup rest on top of the book underneath. ]
[ odasaku tilts his head slightly, blinking when kei comments his religiousness. he’s not surprised per se, but he can’t help but remember his conversation with baren a couple days ago. well, there’s the internal conflict they were talking about. ]
Not really. I’d be more surprised if you weren’t. This is why you try to hold yourself back, ‘cause you know that this goes against the values of Catholicism. Right?
[ finishing his own cup of coffee at almost the same time as kei, odasaku lowers the cup on his lap. he keeps himself from glaring at how kei uses his book as a cup holder, deciding instead to stand up and take both their cups to the kitchen, setting them in the sink to be washed later. inside the kitchen, the cat meows loudly, as if asking when this unwanted guest is going to leave.
she can’t understand him, but he still shakes his head, before making his way back to the couch. ]
Every time you try to “help me”, you act like a psychopath. You threaten the ones I hold close. ‘s that your way of helping me?
[ He pauses to open up the text, turning the pages over to find a familiar passage. But his eyes do snap up at the comment about how he is holding himself back. His usual dull, indifferent stare turns sharp -- one can almost feel the bite of metal just underneath the gaze -- before it returns to just calmly interested. ]
It goes against my beliefs, yes.
[ Again, it is the sin that troubles Kei most rather than the action itself. He runs his hands over the pages as the black cloud that had seemed to surrounded him recedes. His eyes only lift up once when Oda picks up the cups to walk away, the sound of the pages being carefully turned as he rereads a passage. There is silence between when the man leaves for the kitchen and when he returns; it's not an uneasy silence but it is not a comfortable one either. The air merely feels heavy rather than foreboding.
The Bible is closed when Oda returns. ]
It's not my intention to act poorly. However, you recognize that you have people that are close to you. You recognize that you care about them and that you may even love them. There is a connection that you've created with people, but it is on a spider's thread. [ Which, consequently, is more than he's felt with anyone. He's forced connections with people in order to remain grounded, and so the bonds he has are more violent and artificial than a naturally woven wish. ]
It's only help I can give for you since you deny and cut off all other means.
Remember when I told you that you’re like an incoming train, disguised as the light at the end of the tunnel? That’s what I meant.
[ he takes the bible from kei into his own hands, flipping through the pages aimlessly before shutting the book closed with a sigh. clearly this has some sort of meaning for the man; maybe it’s the only meaning he has. either way, he makes no more mention because he’s never been able to understand religion.
ignoring the oppressive atmosphere around them, he continues to talk, his expression deadpan. ]
You try to help me, but I’ve never asked for your help. And if I keep denying your help, what are you gonna do? Keep escalating until I’m forced to see what you want to show me?
[ He frowns as the Bible is taken from him; it may be the first time that Oda saw something like real displeasure. Kei folds his hands on his lap instead, drumming his fingers on the tops of his other hand's knuckles. ]
You have never asked for anyone's help as I have seen it. And so no one helps you. No one reaches past to attempt to touch any part of you that is vulnerable, because of the politeness of society and morals. [ His eyes drop to watch how his fingertips tap against his knuckles -- ring, middle, index, index middle ring. Three separate touches. ]
But I forget all of those due to my interest in you, so I'm the best person to help. [ And he ignores the last question. ]
[ in the deepest corner of his heart, odasaku can’t help but feel a bit of vindication when he sees that displeased expression on kei’s face.
the rest of his heart feels the unease grow, and he makes a mental note that religion is important to him. taking the bible away from him feels like taking a toy from a misbehaving child—if that child threatened the people he cares about. he watches the way the man’s fingers tap a rhythm, an obvious sign that kei is making an effort to hold himself back.
but oda himself won’t hold back, especially when his question is so blatantly ignored. blue eyes narrow, but his expression is otherwise deadpan. ]
That selective hearing of yours is a problem. I told you that I don’t want your help. I don’t want your interest. So, answer my question: what’re you gonna do when I keep refusing your request?
[ Kei visibly flinches. The tapping of his fingers slow. Eventually, he rests his palm on top of his other hand. His eyes slide toward where the Bible had been set, fixating on the spine. There is a pained expression that glosses over his face, grimacing.
His fingers interlace instead, into a partial prayer, yet he twists his fingers together until the knuckles turn white. Still, he says nothing as he muses over what he would do if his request is still ignored. Your suffering is unbearable to witness.
He drops his gaze down as he feels his shoulders drop with them. I forget all of those due to my interest. ]
[ He sits back as he finds his expression sliding to a neutral one. His gaze returns to a dull, lifeless stare that settles on Oda's face. There is a second in thinking that he may smile one of those hideous smiles that he has when speaking to the man in text, yet he doesn't.
His expression remains calm, unaffected, and perhaps, that is worse. ]
I don't know, Sakutarou Oda. But I will only involve you in it. However, it is as I've said, do you believe those spider threads that you've spread out toward your loved ones... will turn to steel and chain... upon seeing what will come to pass?
[ kei may have slowed down, maybe having realized that odasaku was not backing down. that said, what he says after is just as unsettling. just what does he mean by that? he says that his friends won’t be involved, but still mentions them in the same cryptic way that he says everything else.
the way that kei talks, as if he’s the one holding the strings of odasaku’s life...it makes him feel vulnerable. and god he hates it. he hates feeling as if someone else has control of his fate— someone that would be willing to ruin it without a second thought.
your ruin should come by your own hand and yours alone, so you have no one else to blame. is that what will happen?
he stares back, unwilling to budge a single centimeter. the last thing he wants kei to know is the dread that is building in his chest. ]
[ There is a twisting in his stomach; it doesn't feel unpleasant, however. He can't put it into words what will happen, because he does not know in great or small details what will. His interest is his interest. The strangling tight manner he holds his hands loosens, slackens, like he has finished ringing the life out of the last of his control.
Indeed, even though, his expression remained neutral, even as his shoulders dropped, he still held onto something. ]
You'll have to choose. [ He's trembling. He can feel it running down his arms, through his body. But it's not quite out of fear. Fear is part of it; of course, it is part of it. But it is not all that is there. Kei hides the look of pain as he ignores the other feelings that well up inside of him. It is all that he can do. A memory from earlier comes to him. I have a foreboding... that when I learn that which seek, it will destroy me.
Those were the words of Kirei Kotomine. Kei felt relieved upon receiving these memories. The man who he was knew something dangerous would awaken inside of him if he continued to pursue someone. The name has not been given to him yet and he is not sure how he feels about that. But his feelings on that memory come in two. Relief, Kirei understood and did not want to proceed; there was hesitation in his heart and he could have turned back. Horror, he must have carried on anyway. ]
There is nothing but ruin in it. [ His control is gone, but he speaks clear, even with his smile twisting into place. ] There is only madness that will come, because your suffering is unsightly to me. It's unsightly, like seeing the rot of an infection eating away at the flesh.
[ Yet he laughs. ] I only want to involve you. Whatever it is, I only want you to be involved. That is all that you want, too, isn't it? However, even if those are both of our wishes, it won't happen. I cannot see into the future. [ Another bark of laughter. ] I cannot see into it. Yet I know that those weak connections that you have with others will be strengthened. They'll come to realize your own weaknesses and your own vulnerability.
[ Indeed, he is a train's light rather than the sun streaming in to cut through the black. ] You won't be able to hide from them, and they will finally come to care for you as they should have before your self-made wounds began to fester with infection. You will end up not being alone, but I will be. You are willing to destroy yourself so that your characters can live. I am willing to destroy myself so that you can live rather than just exist within this space.
[ A slight pause. ] Because your pain shouldn't have to be this way, Sakutarou Oda. [ He blinks slow, realizing that he did not throughout his explanation. His eyes feel dry as he looks away. ]
Because I'm not beyond salvation, Sakutarou Oda, nor are you. [ There is agony in his words. ] You have lived with it for so long that you can no longer tell that you're no longer drowning. The water's already filled your lungs. But you are not beyond anyone's help.
odasaku’s unsure if those words manage to fall from his lips. everything feels constrained, as if kei could choke him by words alone. for the first time in their conversation, odasaku feels fear and it shows. as the other continues to speak, the feeling only gets worse, until he can no longer look at kei in the eye.
he runs his hand through his hair, and breathes a shaky sigh as his mind runs at a thousand miles per hour. why would kei say something like this? it all makes sense, to a point. his bonds will be strengthened as time goes, and if oda doesn’t decide to burn all his bridges in fear of his vulnerabilities being laid bare for anyone to pick at. he truly does hope that he is not beyond salvation and... he hopes that kei isn’t either. that much is true.
but— i am willing to destroy myself so that you can live rather than just exist within this space.
between you and me, one of us must die.
he stands up, suddenly and quietly, making his way to the balcony. he doesn’t expect kei to follow when he closes the door behind him, and he sure hopes he doesn’t accompany him while he begins to smoke. he needs to be alone, if only for a moment.
at least akage will give kei some comapny, jumping on the spot that oda stood up from and curling up for a cat nap. ]
[ Kei looks away at the fear radiating off of Oda. The shame settles in on him; he feels a moment of absolute relief in feeling it. His heart feels clenched in agony and he accepts it all. Yes. Penance is not simply guilt, but change due to the guilt felt. His hand rests over his chest, gripping his shirt and twisting it in his hands.
He leans forward, head all but resting on the coffee table as his hands held in a weak prayer-pose against the floor. His head turns as he hears the cat come to take the place of Oda with a brief glance. The fear overrides whatever other feelings were in him; his body trembles and aches but he accepts this pain. It isn't the pain that matters, anyway. This pain is acceptable for the wounds I add upon him. ]
Interest that is neither romantic or platonic is only obsession. [ So he says to the cat that is resting near him. It looks at him before going to sleep. ] That's fair. [ Kei offers a wry smile as he admits that he's simply obsessed. He does not know why he is, but he hates it. ] Yet your owner fears me. He doesn't hate me. He hasn't come to hate me in his heart, but feels pity. Pity that a human like me exists.
[ His eyes close. ] I agree. But I accepted this is my life a long time ago, because I cannot fill anything within me. There has never been any anger about it. Anger is righteousness. Anger is to correct a wrong. Even if a human like me exists, the meaning of my life is to ensure others do not live as I do. I accepted that about myself. [ He feels tired. ] ... why would Oda ruin his own meaning in order to not complete his incomplete self? I cannot understand it.
[ the cat does not respond verbally, only giving kei a long yawn before turning her back to him.
luckily enough, odasaku can’t hear any of this. he remains motionless on the balcony, focussing only on the way his lungs fill with the smoke from a lit cigarette. it’s a comforting poison in his body, but poison all the same. he knows that one day it will destroy him, just like any other poison would.
the same way that kei continues to search for him, probably. but there is no comfort in that. there was no comfort in the way his gaze diverted from odasaku’s when things became too tense. it’s simply self destruction— for his sake.
why would anyone destroy themselves for me?
he settles his arms on the railing, leaning down until his forehead is resting on them. it all feels like it’s too much, and only now does he feel the water rushing into his lungs, pulling him down under. but if he saves himself, then kei will drown. but if he drowns with him...then... what about the people he cares about?
it would be so much easier if he could act on his selfishness and let kei drown—but, as forced as the other’s connections may be, they sill exist. and because they exist, those people will hurt. kei may not feel a thing, but others will; he won’t let that happen.
finishing his cigarette, odasaku makes his way back to the apartment. he no longer looks fearful, but... guilty. ]
Kei Shigaraki. For your sake and mine, I ask one thing. Forget about me. I don’t want it to matter to you whether or not I destroy myself. If I do, I do. If I don’t, I don’t.
[ and then, he frowns, his gaze sharp ]
Don’t destroy yourself for me, Kei. It may not matter to you, but it matters to me. ‘Cause you got connections. Maybe they’re forced on your end, but on the other end, they’re very real. I’m not gonna let you sacrifice them because you wanna save me. So: forget about me.
Do you think that I do not want to forget about you, Sakutarou Oda?
[ He lifts his head off the coffee table as he realizes the rudeness of what he is doing. An amused huff comes through his nose as he sits up on the couch; the pose is similar to the one that he had before but tension radiates off of him now. The front of his shirt is messed and crinkled due to having gripped at it so tight, feeling himself unable to breath and glad of it, until Oda's return. ]
You speak of other people before you speak about yourself. You speak of me before you speak about you. You may see your actions as selfish but to all others, they see it as selfless. [ His smile is wry, hollow. ] I can't forget about you. But I won't destroy myself. I ... I do not wish such damnation for myself.
[ He leans back away from Oda, like he fears if he moves that he'll only draw closer. ] I've spoken often of how one life is precious. My own must be included, but it sounds like a lie when I say it. I consider those people that have connections that feel real to them... better off without me. [ I wish to be forgotten, too, Sakutarou Oda. ]
You feel that about yourself, too, don't you? [ The hollow smile remains. ] I want to forget about you. I want to, Sakutarou Oda, but I can't.
[ he says it with absolutely no joy in his voice. no anger, no frustration, no sadness. he feels absolutely nothing as he continues to watch kei talk. it’s strange, how sometimes he feels as if he’s watching a mirror image of himself speak— something that is much more evident now.
they would be much better off without me, wouldn’t they? if he hadn’t befriended them in such a halfhearted way... maybe they wouldn’t have to suffer because of him. they wouldn’t worry about his lack of self-preservation and self-care. they would simply let him be... and that would be fine.
he can’t believe that the first person to mimic this train of thought would be none other than kei shigaraki. ]
At least I understand that. But if... this interest is gonna consume you whole, then I can’t let you be near me. [ he pauses, swallowing; it feels like a rock stuck in his throat. ] I think you should go home.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
He doesn't like it. ]
Pardon the intrusion. [ A beat. ] Yes, black.
[ His hand drops as he looks around, noting the piles of books. ] You're well-read. [ It doesn't sound like a compliment. Kei already wishes for a cup of coffee in his hand to drink so he wouldn't say anything. Wesker said, he reminds himself, that he would not be able to stop. Conscience and guilt would be unable to stop his interest. ]
But I don't mind the mess. It feels like you live here. [ That also doesn't sound like a compliment, but it doesn't sound like an insult, either.
He sighs audibly as he walks toward the couch, letting out an extra sigh as he sits down. ] It's good that you know you are a fool. I don't need to get into it then-- [ He stops as he notices the cat watching him from a safe distance. ] Are you still upset about how I used your life against him? Come now, you are still alive and well. Honestly, if you had stayed with me, you would be doing equally well with a cat fanatic. Both of you would probably be very happy right now.
[ The cat hisses at him. ]
Fair enough.
no subject
[ odasaku calls out from the kitchen, not really caring for whether or not kei’s comment is an insult or not. he knows that it’s surprising for someone like him to be seen checking out five or more books from the library at a time, but that’s how he is.
or, well, now he’s only checking out two at a time. work does hold him back.
he does manage to hear the cat hiss which gets oda to actually turn around to see what is happening in his living room. akage’s all bristled, as if holding her territory from the Very Tall Man that threatened her life days ago. at least someone is smart in this house. ]
Stop bullying the cat, Kei. She’ll bite you. [ and he turns back towards the kitchen in order to serve their respective cups of coffee. both black, oda realizes, and he feels like this is some sort of bad omen. still, there’s nothing that can be done anymore. stepping out of the kitchen, he hands his cup of coffee to kei and sits down on a seat in front of him. ]
Start talking.
no subject
I am not surprised you are well-read. [ Kei closes his eyes and lets out yet another sigh. ] I used to read a lot. People assumed I enjoyed it, but I didn't. [ He wants to rest his head on the back of the couch but that is being too familiar with his surroundings. He straightens how he sits instead. ] I gathered stories upon stories because I wanted to understand. The things people write about come from their souls. They are bearing something of themselves in what they write. Something vulnerable, something fragile.
Whether it is a good or bad book didn't matter. Whether it was a work of passion, for money, for just because they wanted to try... I could peel apart the reasons by the time the last page turned. [ The emptiness grew inside of him, however. He had nothing to give the world; he had nothing so vulnerable inside. He had nothing that called to others. ]
Eventually, I stopped. I came to realize that I would understand the author but I wouldn't understand the characters. I wouldn't be able to see into what was lovingly or clumsily woven together ... I would only see the person. ] He takes the cup from Oda, feeling the warmth of the coffee against his palms is welcome. ]
I found other books, however, to read over and over. [ Religion-based texts. ] So it doesn't surprise me that you are well-read. [ He repeats. ] The reasons you are ... They are different than mine but you are still...
[ A slight beat. ] I am getting off-topic. So, where exactly do you want me to start, Sakutarou Oda?
no subject
he’s in a cafe, speaking to a bearded man he doesn’t recognize. and what that bearded man tells him is— ]
To write about lives is to write about people.
[ snapping out of the trance, he sees kei’s annoying face once more, but manages not to pay any attention to it. there’s a strange feeling in his chest due to this stranger. something... that makes him feel whole. added with a sip of the black coffee, odasaku can’t help but feel content, underneath the deadpan exterior. ]
That’s what someone told me once. Past me. If you don’t understand people, you won’t be able to understand the characters—because they all got lives of their own. Even if it’s just made for the money, every story’s got its own life. A writer writes people. How they live and how they die. Even the books you read are probably like that, you just don’t notice it ‘cause you’re neck deep in your own emptiness or whatever.
no subject
When Oda starts to speak, again, Kei does give a brief look at him. He thought that he would tell him where he wanted to begin, but he didn't -- and he did. ]
You believe this is something that I did to myself, as you did? You believe I am like this by choice? [ He huffs a laugh over the rim of the cup before he takes another drink. Sighing loudly, he tastes the coffee on his breath. ] I was born this way, Sakutarou Oda. Nothing happened to me to make me this way. No great tragedy. I simply was born as I am -- an empty person. I have never been truly happy in my entire life.
[ There is no bitterness in his words, however. There is no sorrow, either. Kei merely states a fact about himself. ] I am only ever content. Yet you... you decide that you would empty your entire self out. For what reason would you decide that you had to give yourself up? And why didn't you simply complete the process? You still feel it, don't you -- happiness?
[ His tone shifts as he smiles. The smiles that he has been giving every time that he writes Oda a text. He doesn't quite realize that he is showing such a hideously wide, pleased look, but he does. ] You feel it because you want to protect your loved ones. The desire to protect comes from experiencing joy that you do not want to give up on.
And you don't want to give it up.
no subject
[ and there is the main question in oda’s head. it’s the thing he can’t understand, no matter the amount of texts he receives from kei. whether he’s empty or not, happy or not, shouldn’t be a problem for someone who, until a month ago, was absolutely irrelevant in odasaku’s life.
and yet, every time he hears that word, all he can see is the reflection of his younger self, accepting the job to kill someone, followed by his current self, a hollowed out shell with nothing but anger to fuel it. ]
I don’t know why I’m like this. [ he takes another drink of his coffee. despite kei’s expression, he remains listless, unwavering. ] Going by the memories I had before the app, I should be normal. But I’m not. ‘Cause those memories aren’t true in the first place, I think.
I was an assassin, y’know? Was just a kid when I got that memory. And you know what the “me” of that memory felt? Nothing. You could’ve been telling me to wash the dishes or something and I would’ve had the same reaction.
But I’m not like that anymore. You know that much. Something filled me up after that memory and then that got taken away, too. That’s just how my life is.
no subject
[ He does not raise his voice; he does not feel any anger. As he has always said, anger comes from a place of righteousness. He feels no righteousness in his behavior so there can be no anger. The cup rests against his lips before he tips it back to drink, burning his tongue and throat, but he feels pleasant about it. Like he is pouring water over a flame, leaving it but smoldering ash. ]
And your friends only love you as much as you love yourself. Which is to say, it is a hollow affection that they have for you. They see you as you are and leave you to it. [ He grips the cup as he decides to finish his thought before conquering the issue of finding out that Oda was an assassin. Of course, you were. ] Yet you cling to that the empty friendships that could be real.
You were born incomplete rather than defective. Incomplete means that you can still build within yourself something. The pieces may not fit as well as if you were built to have them, but they will fit. I, however, cannot even manufacture parts for myself. [ Kei readily calls himself a defect; no human being should live the way that he lives. The only meaning to his life is to show others how they should not. ] Yet I don't believe you want your life to have the same meaning as mine. Do you wish to just be a cautionary tale, Sakutarou Oda?
Is that what you want to go bleeding into your stories written about people? What weight do the people that you write have when you made yourself only partially weightless? [ It only calms the flames, he realizes. He cannot stop himself; a smile dances on his lips as he brings the cup down to rest in his lap, held carefully in his hands. His thumbs rub along the lip of it as he speaks with a little too much cheer: ]
Or perhaps, your life will have meaning if you were to kill me.
no subject
[ odasaku shakes his head, almost disappointed at kei’s taunt. having heard all that, and he somehow thinks that meaning will come to oda’s life if he managed to take his life.
the surprising thing is that, despite all the stress, the idea of killing kei had never even crossed his mind. even now, he doesn’t think about it. ]
I don’t want to kill you. [ he shakes his head, taking a sip from the coffee, ignoring the burn as it goes down his throat. ] I was an assassin and I was a mafioso, but now I’m neither of these things. I’m just a writer. And if I gotta sacrifice the rest of my meaning in order for my characters to have some, then I don’t mind. I’ll do it without a second thought.
no subject
[ He holds the cup in one hand as his other hand gestures to Oda himself. ] I don't say that because I have any desire to cling to life, however. I merely have no wish of making you into a murderer.
[ There is yet another sigh as he lifts the cup up for another deep drink. He pauses as he looks down in it as he swallows to see that the contents are all but gone. ] But I don't deny that would finish the mutilation that has already begun. I merely have no wish to see it to its fruition by my own hand. Your ruin should come by your own hand and yours alone, so you have no one else to blame.
Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance. You can only wish to repent once you have fallen on your own.
[ His eyebrows lift in a manner to mock the expression of surprise at the comment about characters and giving up his own life meaning for them. ] And who are the people in your stories, Sakutarou Oda? Can you see them clearly? Can you know them? The writer writes about people, but you have shut yourself off from them.
no subject
[ odasaku mumbles when he recognizes that line, his eyes parting from kei and settling on one book that’s on the top of a small stack— the bible. a book he’s read many times, but one that holds the same meaning to him as most of his fiction novels.
still, he knows that this line wasn’t said haphazardly; there’s meaning in those words as well. your ruin should come by your hand and yours alone. it’s so ominous, that it’s almost laughable, as if kei is somehow sealing his fate— or maybe it’s already sealed to begin with.
he doesn’t laugh. instead, he closes his eyes, sighing into his cup of coffee. ]
I’m writing about myself. Because I can’t understand anyone well enough, I’ve decided to write about the only person I can understand: myself.
no subject
[ It is, in that explanation, that the talk of salvation and repentance are not simply fluff words for Kei. He is not simply using them in order to intimidate Oda, but that he wholly believes in those ideals. But it also shows some of the twisted portions of his mind with his own faith. ]
I would like to read that book, then. I feel like if I had it... I could come to understand you. [ The cup is empty, and he frowns, as he sets it on top of one of the stacks of books. It is the small one with the Bible; he slides the Bible out to have the cup rest on top of the book underneath. ]
And with it, I can help you.
no subject
Not really. I’d be more surprised if you weren’t. This is why you try to hold yourself back, ‘cause you know that this goes against the values of Catholicism. Right?
[ finishing his own cup of coffee at almost the same time as kei, odasaku lowers the cup on his lap. he keeps himself from glaring at how kei uses his book as a cup holder, deciding instead to stand up and take both their cups to the kitchen, setting them in the sink to be washed later. inside the kitchen, the cat meows loudly, as if asking when this unwanted guest is going to leave.
she can’t understand him, but he still shakes his head, before making his way back to the couch. ]
Every time you try to “help me”, you act like a psychopath. You threaten the ones I hold close. ‘s that your way of helping me?
no subject
It goes against my beliefs, yes.
[ Again, it is the sin that troubles Kei most rather than the action itself. He runs his hands over the pages as the black cloud that had seemed to surrounded him recedes. His eyes only lift up once when Oda picks up the cups to walk away, the sound of the pages being carefully turned as he rereads a passage. There is silence between when the man leaves for the kitchen and when he returns; it's not an uneasy silence but it is not a comfortable one either. The air merely feels heavy rather than foreboding.
The Bible is closed when Oda returns. ]
It's not my intention to act poorly. However, you recognize that you have people that are close to you. You recognize that you care about them and that you may even love them. There is a connection that you've created with people, but it is on a spider's thread. [ Which, consequently, is more than he's felt with anyone. He's forced connections with people in order to remain grounded, and so the bonds he has are more violent and artificial than a naturally woven wish. ]
It's only help I can give for you since you deny and cut off all other means.
no subject
[ he takes the bible from kei into his own hands, flipping through the pages aimlessly before shutting the book closed with a sigh. clearly this has some sort of meaning for the man; maybe it’s the only meaning he has. either way, he makes no more mention because he’s never been able to understand religion.
ignoring the oppressive atmosphere around them, he continues to talk, his expression deadpan. ]
You try to help me, but I’ve never asked for your help. And if I keep denying your help, what are you gonna do? Keep escalating until I’m forced to see what you want to show me?
no subject
[ He frowns as the Bible is taken from him; it may be the first time that Oda saw something like real displeasure. Kei folds his hands on his lap instead, drumming his fingers on the tops of his other hand's knuckles. ]
You have never asked for anyone's help as I have seen it. And so no one helps you. No one reaches past to attempt to touch any part of you that is vulnerable, because of the politeness of society and morals. [ His eyes drop to watch how his fingertips tap against his knuckles -- ring, middle, index, index middle ring. Three separate touches. ]
But I forget all of those due to my interest in you, so I'm the best person to help. [ And he ignores the last question. ]
no subject
the rest of his heart feels the unease grow, and he makes a mental note that religion is important to him. taking the bible away from him feels like taking a toy from a misbehaving child—if that child threatened the people he cares about. he watches the way the man’s fingers tap a rhythm, an obvious sign that kei is making an effort to hold himself back.
but oda himself won’t hold back, especially when his question is so blatantly ignored. blue eyes narrow, but his expression is otherwise deadpan. ]
That selective hearing of yours is a problem. I told you that I don’t want your help. I don’t want your interest. So, answer my question: what’re you gonna do when I keep refusing your request?
[1/2]
His fingers interlace instead, into a partial prayer, yet he twists his fingers together until the knuckles turn white. Still, he says nothing as he muses over what he would do if his request is still ignored. Your suffering is unbearable to witness.
He drops his gaze down as he feels his shoulders drop with them. I forget all of those due to my interest. ]
no subject
His expression remains calm, unaffected, and perhaps, that is worse. ]
I don't know, Sakutarou Oda. But I will only involve you in it. However, it is as I've said, do you believe those spider threads that you've spread out toward your loved ones... will turn to steel and chain... upon seeing what will come to pass?
no subject
[ kei may have slowed down, maybe having realized that odasaku was not backing down. that said, what he says after is just as unsettling. just what does he mean by that? he says that his friends won’t be involved, but still mentions them in the same cryptic way that he says everything else.
the way that kei talks, as if he’s the one holding the strings of odasaku’s life...it makes him feel vulnerable. and god he hates it. he hates feeling as if someone else has control of his fate— someone that would be willing to ruin it without a second thought.
your ruin should come by your own hand and yours alone, so you have no one else to blame. is that what will happen?
he stares back, unwilling to budge a single centimeter. the last thing he wants kei to know is the dread that is building in his chest. ]
Tell me, Kei. What’s gonna happen?
no subject
Indeed, even though, his expression remained neutral, even as his shoulders dropped, he still held onto something. ]
You'll have to choose. [ He's trembling. He can feel it running down his arms, through his body. But it's not quite out of fear. Fear is part of it; of course, it is part of it. But it is not all that is there. Kei hides the look of pain as he ignores the other feelings that well up inside of him. It is all that he can do. A memory from earlier comes to him. I have a foreboding... that when I learn that which seek, it will destroy me.
Those were the words of Kirei Kotomine. Kei felt relieved upon receiving these memories. The man who he was knew something dangerous would awaken inside of him if he continued to pursue someone. The name has not been given to him yet and he is not sure how he feels about that. But his feelings on that memory come in two. Relief, Kirei understood and did not want to proceed; there was hesitation in his heart and he could have turned back. Horror, he must have carried on anyway. ]
There is nothing but ruin in it. [ His control is gone, but he speaks clear, even with his smile twisting into place. ] There is only madness that will come, because your suffering is unsightly to me. It's unsightly, like seeing the rot of an infection eating away at the flesh.
[ Yet he laughs. ] I only want to involve you. Whatever it is, I only want you to be involved. That is all that you want, too, isn't it? However, even if those are both of our wishes, it won't happen. I cannot see into the future. [ Another bark of laughter. ] I cannot see into it. Yet I know that those weak connections that you have with others will be strengthened. They'll come to realize your own weaknesses and your own vulnerability.
[ Indeed, he is a train's light rather than the sun streaming in to cut through the black. ] You won't be able to hide from them, and they will finally come to care for you as they should have before your self-made wounds began to fester with infection. You will end up not being alone, but I will be. You are willing to destroy yourself so that your characters can live. I am willing to destroy myself so that you can live rather than just exist within this space.
[ A slight pause. ] Because your pain shouldn't have to be this way, Sakutarou Oda. [ He blinks slow, realizing that he did not throughout his explanation. His eyes feel dry as he looks away. ]
Because I'm not beyond salvation, Sakutarou Oda, nor are you. [ There is agony in his words. ] You have lived with it for so long that you can no longer tell that you're no longer drowning. The water's already filled your lungs. But you are not beyond anyone's help.
no subject
odasaku’s unsure if those words manage to fall from his lips. everything feels constrained, as if kei could choke him by words alone. for the first time in their conversation, odasaku feels fear and it shows. as the other continues to speak, the feeling only gets worse, until he can no longer look at kei in the eye.
he runs his hand through his hair, and breathes a shaky sigh as his mind runs at a thousand miles per hour. why would kei say something like this? it all makes sense, to a point. his bonds will be strengthened as time goes, and if oda doesn’t decide to burn all his bridges in fear of his vulnerabilities being laid bare for anyone to pick at. he truly does hope that he is not beyond salvation and... he hopes that kei isn’t either. that much is true.
but— i am willing to destroy myself so that you can live rather than just exist within this space.
between you and me, one of us must die.
he stands up, suddenly and quietly, making his way to the balcony. he doesn’t expect kei to follow when he closes the door behind him, and he sure hopes he doesn’t accompany him while he begins to smoke. he needs to be alone, if only for a moment.
at least akage will give kei some comapny, jumping on the spot that oda stood up from and curling up for a cat nap. ]
no subject
He leans forward, head all but resting on the coffee table as his hands held in a weak prayer-pose against the floor. His head turns as he hears the cat come to take the place of Oda with a brief glance. The fear overrides whatever other feelings were in him; his body trembles and aches but he accepts this pain. It isn't the pain that matters, anyway. This pain is acceptable for the wounds I add upon him. ]
Interest that is neither romantic or platonic is only obsession. [ So he says to the cat that is resting near him. It looks at him before going to sleep. ] That's fair. [ Kei offers a wry smile as he admits that he's simply obsessed. He does not know why he is, but he hates it. ] Yet your owner fears me. He doesn't hate me. He hasn't come to hate me in his heart, but feels pity. Pity that a human like me exists.
[ His eyes close. ] I agree. But I accepted this is my life a long time ago, because I cannot fill anything within me. There has never been any anger about it. Anger is righteousness. Anger is to correct a wrong. Even if a human like me exists, the meaning of my life is to ensure others do not live as I do. I accepted that about myself. [ He feels tired. ] ... why would Oda ruin his own meaning in order to not complete his incomplete self? I cannot understand it.
no subject
luckily enough, odasaku can’t hear any of this. he remains motionless on the balcony, focussing only on the way his lungs fill with the smoke from a lit cigarette. it’s a comforting poison in his body, but poison all the same. he knows that one day it will destroy him, just like any other poison would.
the same way that kei continues to search for him, probably. but there is no comfort in that. there was no comfort in the way his gaze diverted from odasaku’s when things became too tense. it’s simply self destruction— for his sake.
why would anyone destroy themselves for me?
he settles his arms on the railing, leaning down until his forehead is resting on them. it all feels like it’s too much, and only now does he feel the water rushing into his lungs, pulling him down under. but if he saves himself, then kei will drown. but if he drowns with him...then... what about the people he cares about?
it would be so much easier if he could act on his selfishness and let kei drown—but, as forced as the other’s connections may be, they sill exist. and because they exist, those people will hurt. kei may not feel a thing, but others will; he won’t let that happen.
finishing his cigarette, odasaku makes his way back to the apartment. he no longer looks fearful, but... guilty. ]
Kei Shigaraki. For your sake and mine, I ask one thing. Forget about me. I don’t want it to matter to you whether or not I destroy myself. If I do, I do. If I don’t, I don’t.
[ and then, he frowns, his gaze sharp ]
Don’t destroy yourself for me, Kei. It may not matter to you, but it matters to me. ‘Cause you got connections. Maybe they’re forced on your end, but on the other end, they’re very real. I’m not gonna let you sacrifice them because you wanna save me. So: forget about me.
no subject
[ He lifts his head off the coffee table as he realizes the rudeness of what he is doing. An amused huff comes through his nose as he sits up on the couch; the pose is similar to the one that he had before but tension radiates off of him now. The front of his shirt is messed and crinkled due to having gripped at it so tight, feeling himself unable to breath and glad of it, until Oda's return. ]
You speak of other people before you speak about yourself. You speak of me before you speak about you. You may see your actions as selfish but to all others, they see it as selfless. [ His smile is wry, hollow. ] I can't forget about you. But I won't destroy myself. I ... I do not wish such damnation for myself.
[ He leans back away from Oda, like he fears if he moves that he'll only draw closer. ] I've spoken often of how one life is precious. My own must be included, but it sounds like a lie when I say it. I consider those people that have connections that feel real to them... better off without me. [ I wish to be forgotten, too, Sakutarou Oda. ]
You feel that about yourself, too, don't you? [ The hollow smile remains. ] I want to forget about you. I want to, Sakutarou Oda, but I can't.
no subject
[ he says it with absolutely no joy in his voice. no anger, no frustration, no sadness. he feels absolutely nothing as he continues to watch kei talk. it’s strange, how sometimes he feels as if he’s watching a mirror image of himself speak— something that is much more evident now.
they would be much better off without me, wouldn’t they? if he hadn’t befriended them in such a halfhearted way... maybe they wouldn’t have to suffer because of him. they wouldn’t worry about his lack of self-preservation and self-care. they would simply let him be... and that would be fine.
he can’t believe that the first person to mimic this train of thought would be none other than kei shigaraki. ]
At least I understand that. But if... this interest is gonna consume you whole, then I can’t let you be near me. [ he pauses, swallowing; it feels like a rock stuck in his throat. ] I think you should go home.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)