week two | dates

[showhost]

You worked up your courage and asked someone out on a date! Good job!





Now you have to hope the producers are kind re: where they send you.

Comments

[willandaway]

[despite the clink of their glasses, Will does not take another sip of his beer. he has barely touched it!1 but that is on purpose]

Are you all right? You've had two.

[and he has no idea what Akechi's tolerance is like]

[flaweddetective]

I'm fine.

[A little more loose lipped and emotionally vulnerable. But not "messed up". Shido used to pass him a glass, on rare occasion, of foul yet expensive whisky as he rambled about his plans and how he was going to steer the country. Blah. Blah. Blah. This cheap beer is nothing.]

I think we've done all we can here so we're probably free to leave.

[willandaway]

[hm. . . if Akechi is sure, then Will won't push it]

Why don't we go somewhere quieter?

[because even if they can leave, he isn't quite ready to end this outing]

We can talk a little more. There's still a lot I have to learn about you, after all.

[flaweddetective]

[He drags a hand through his hair, sighing heavily. He's exhausted. And he'd rather just go home and lay on the little make shift bed he crafted for himself and try and tune out the arguing and the poorly done flirting that is happening all around him.]

Sure... [But he probably has no choice at the end of the day.] Lead the way. Ask what you want to ask.

[willandaway]

[a nod! Will leaves his 1/4th finished beer on the table as he stands]

I think I saw us pass a park on the way here.

[GODMODES A PARK INTO EXISTENCE--]

I'll ask you some more questions when we get there.

[to give Akechi time. . . to prepare himself]

[flaweddetective]

Great.

[Great indeed. He buttons up his jacket since it's a little chilly and follows to this park. He assumes the questions are going to be about things he like and favorite foods. The boring line of questioning Anna gave just less hostile.]

[willandaway]

[those questions are swimming around his brain a bit, but. . . they're kind of trivial, aren't they? he wants to learn more about the deeper stuff. the things that make Akechi tick]

. . . what was your mom like?

Tw: very vague suicide mention/Akechi mom stuff

[flaweddetective]

[He bristles unhappily at the question but with a sigh, a deep and heavy one, he does answer.]

I don't really remember. She was sad, mostly. She cried a lot when she thought I wasn't looking. But when she had a bad day it was a bad day... And eventually the bad days became too much.

[He could say more but he won’t. The memory of her fades a little more as the years go by. He has no pictures of them or family treasures. There is nothing to hold on to.

That childhood is splintered into foggy memories. Of men always at the door and being gently pushed out of their apartment to go to the bathes when they came inside. He can also recall the soup that will never be replicated in his life. And the soft hum of a song when she made it. The few but beautiful good days she had. He remembers a small cake with shaky lettering and a single candle with a present he knew she couldn’t afford but bought it for him anyway.

And of course he remembers finding her…

None of that needs to be said. She was a sad woman who did her best until she couldn’t anymore. And despite his best efforts he never had the chance to avenge her proper.]