( active ) your turn to die: sou hiyori

[killed]

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[killed]

[ It's nothing that simple. Humans are simple creatures at their core, easily read and predictable to the point where only those who's brains are malfunctioning and firing off neurons at random can hope to surprise him on most days, but they're just complex enough that one can't put them into simple binaries. But it's his own fault for steering the conversation toward that path, and he's not entirely wrong. Not entirely honest, but not entirely wrong either. ]

Yes, some of them do. I offer them the same care and respect I would anyone else, of course, and I've managed to maintain a cordial relationship with many of them... Oh, but I've gone and made it sound worse than it is.

[ If the ability to show mercy is a luxury he can provide now, then so too is the ability to be free of resentment. If a person offers no threat and there's nothing to be gained from them, he sees not reason to pay much mind.

He considers for a moment before perking up, taking his hand off of the coffee cup to instead take his phone out of his pocket. He looks down to it, swiping up before clicking away at it. ]

Now that I think about it, actually... I'm more than cordial. I've come to be close to some of them, and they've offered me a fair bit of assistance... There was one who just recently helped me with a problem that I was having...

[ Whatever it is, he sure does seem enthusiastic about it. ]

[enteloki]

[There's enough sincerity in his tone that Akechi writes him off as a moron with that statement. Another soft hearted fool ripe to be taken advantage of and the inklings of something else in his demeanor fade into a distant paranoia. Matters of intuition are where he thrives and his suspicions are rarely fruitless - but right now?

He's talking to a guy who could have vital information, who forgives, cares and becomes friends with those that wrong him.

It's pathetic.

Akechi takes small sips of his coffee, ignoring the crumbling ruins of his croissant in favor of this new piece of information.]

I hate to pry. You certainly don't need to answer me, but it must have been quite the problem if you couldn't handle it on your own. You seem capable of taking on anything. It makes me curious what the issue was.

[killed]

It was quite simple, enough so that I felt embarrassed for not having thought of it myself... You see, I work with children sometimes. They're often ones with special needs, and so they need to be handled delicately... Despite my studies, I still sometimes struggle with gaining their trust.

[ That isn't the truth, once one learns how the human mind works it becomes easily to manipulate, but it's not good to be too perfect. Perfection as unseemly and uncomfortable as ineptitude. Besides, even if they match his own, he likes to hear the solutions they offer. There's always something to be found in them.

In this case, it was hearing the experience and perspective of a father, as well as a charming little gift. There's a few more clicks before he places the phone on the table, sliding it toward Akechi. There's a paused video on it, the play button visible on the screen. ]

He gave me wonderful advice, and shortly after was so kind as to give me this... It was quite lucky, actually, as he just happened to spot it in a store window.

[ That was a lie, of course. He had deliberately sought it out and was too embarrassed to say so, but that makes it all the more charming, and the animated way that his younger peer explained the responses to it no doubt made it worth it to him. A little goes a long way, and he's pleased to likewise be able to share it with a younger companion who he knows will likely not appreciate it nearly as much. ]

[enteloki]

It's difficult to deal with children, let alone the added the stress of this kind of environment. I can understand why you would need help with that.

[It's a legitimate issue and one Akechi wouldn't be able to navigate well either. His ever helpful manager gives him tips on dealing with different age groups to earn the favor of their caretakers and promote his image. The notes and comments are a lifeline in the face of them.

The question is what this is.

He takes a quick note of the layout on the man's phone as his coffee rests on the table. The taskbar has some familiar apps and notification symbols - nothing outlandish. Nothing useful.

Curious, he presses the play button without further pause, ready to see what's gotten his companion this excited. An educational video? Some kind of lecture? He's at a loss for what the content could be otherwise.]

[killed]

[ Unfortunately it's nothing that interesting.

"Nom nom nom, feed me more candy!"

Those are the first cheerful words that come from the speak, a distinctly feminine voice that one would be fitting for a children's cartoons. It's a low quality cartoon, perhaps from the seventies or eighties based on the aesthetics, that displays a toy called Candy Cat. It's a cute blue cat whose back opens up, its tongue sticking out, and a young girl and her brother explain how they share candy with it - share candy with it by feeding her, press the button to make her talk, pat her head for her to dispense candy.

The commercial ends with an upbeat jingle once more stating the name and offering the reminder that it can be found in stores, offering nothing of any real interest at all. No more than the rest of his phone would offer, being equally mundane.

Hiyori tears off a segment of his croissant at least, nibbling on the small piece. He watches the other expectantly. ]

... Charming, isn't it? Her adoptive name is "Gumball." I had planned on Kit Kat, but I was quickly overruled...

[ You know... Like "kitty cat." He thought it was cute. But he shrugs his shoulders in a what can you do gesture, having been defeated by a small child. ]

Some of them like to feed it, believing that they're sharing with her, or petting it and pretending it's a real cat... I have yet to hear a complaint about being able to take a candy or two from it when they're leaving.

[enteloki]

[The precision at which his body reacts to cover up the not so princely expression working its way to his face during the video is a buffer. A shield from anything unseemly, anything risky, breaking his investigation. It's different than Sae, who he has a comfortable relationship with. Different than Akira, who doesn't bat an eye at the small cracks that sometimes form in his facade. Failure to uphold his composed image would be catastrophic in this environment. Too many eyes, too many people and too much to be lost. These years of cultivating his life to fill the mold of a picture perfect person reach their apex in that moment.

Smile. Wrinkle his eyes. Press a closed fist to his mouth like the creature is adorable and not an annoying waste of time. Pretend the passionate way Hiyori is speaking about it means something to him. Important important important. It's all important.

This stupid shit is important.]

My, that's quite a surprise! I can't say I expected this and such an old toy at that. You hear studies about children being preoccupied with technology more than traditional toys, but to know these old fashioned ones still hold a place in society is charming. Their use truly goes beyond their intended lifespan.

[The sounds are fucking annoying and he presses his finger on the pause button the second the previews for the next irritating toy start to play. Oh, maybe he accidentally swipes out of the whole app too! Goodness, what a shame. His face flushes slightly, ever the professional actor, and he slides the phone back towards him.]

My apologies - muscle memory is an odd thing. I'm in the habit of exiting out after one video these days.

[Pretend to care, pretend to give a shit and grip the coffee like a final lifeline to his sanity.]

Though I hope you've changed out the candy since it was created or there might be more health problems on their horizon. I'm sure Gumball would appreciate a change in flavor too.

[killed]

[ He has a cute cat wallpaper as his home screen background too. ]

I have. They can share with their kitty cat - one for them, and one for Gumball... You think it's foolish - oh, don't pretend that you don't. You're mature not to.

[ But he laughs as he says it, his voice warm and tinged with just a hint of amusement, and he takes the phone back. It's a type that he knows well. People think that being an adult is as simple as acting proper and indulging in academia, but those are the the ones who are the quickest to fall apart for having misunderstood the fundamentals of what makes up a person.

Hiyori knows how this goes. The phone rests on his palm, held in place by his fingertips as he tilts it back and forth a few times before setting it back on the table screen side down, his hand resting upon it. ]

It didn't surprise me at all... Honestly, I am embarrassed not to have thought of it myself... Do you see? The fact that you think of it as a surprise is because you see it as frivolous.

[enteloki]

[His facade is unshakable. Perfected. A carbon copy of a perfect person. An image he's expected to uphold and even Shido can't see through it in full force.

This guy is able to pick apart frayed threads at a glance or from a change in his tone. Akechi can't figure it out and that bothers him. It's infallible. It's easy to fall for. Most do without question because why wouldn't a teenager want to promote themselves as the best possible version of themself.

Hiyori does not seem to want to fall for it. He's looking for fissures. It's an unexpected challenge from a doctor at a corporation, but maybe that observational skill is the key that cultivated his natural talents to begin with.

All he does is continue to smile, unwavering.]

You're correct. I've never been much for toys, even as a child. It was...uncommon to get them, in my living situation.

[Half-truth. Lie. Test. See how far Hiyori pushes.]

So it's hard for me to put myself in the mindset to be excited for it, I'll admit. You'll have to forgive that.

[His picked apart croissant is a dry between his fingers, but he manages to chew some down anyway. It's pretty awful now.]

However the fact it makes your job easier is something to celebrate and if the children find comfort in it, then that's all that matters. I'm sure it's difficult enough for them to be here. It must be a welcome distraction.

[killed]

[ Hiyori nods in acknowledgement of the former statement, but opts not to push it any further. It's in poor taste to pry into someone's circumstances without being invited. There's something more important that he can touch upon, more useful to current company than the possibility of recounting the few years present in his memories, ]

It is... You could think of it another way: If you hand a child a toy or a screen, you give them a distraction from any loneliness and sadness they might feel. If you play pretend with them and talk with them, then you can offer them a cure. For children who are sickly and isolated it matters even more.

[ There's no shortage of stories like that, and adult's lives can always be traced back to their childhood. It's something humans have pondered and noted and given cautionary tales on for centuries; artists and writers and philosophers with no knowledge of the human brain could understand it.

He cants his head, his hand moving from his phone to his lap. ]

You should learn to watch people more. If you watch a hundred hours worth of videos and lectures on woodworking, you still won't be able to craft even the simplest of objects until you begin carving... People are much in the same. Your studies are worthless if you can only see things from your own vantage point.

[ He takes another sip of his coffee. ]

Above all else, the key to success is a genuine interest in the people around you. I hope you'll remember that.

[ It's that simple fact which people tend to miss, too caught up in protecting themselves by looking down upon others and slotting things into boxes, thinking only of who they are and how they're seen. Hiyori has always liked people though, so he never struggled in the same way. ]

[enteloki]

[That's a poignant statement - an unexpected lesson in the midst of this investigation. It's not one he can ignore. The man's words pierce him skin deep, a nick in his armor exposed. He can't figure out how and the advice must hold meaning for that.

An inkling of a suspicion contorting into a real image who this man is outside of his front. This altruistic exterior.]

It would be foolish of me to not take that advice. You're certainly right that the world has much to offer - to shut my eyes to the truth of it would be an injustice to the people around me.

[Because he has a genuine interest Hiyori now and wants to etch the pieces of him away to exploit his true value. The words from Akechi's mouth are almost real, though finding merit in the worthless will be a taxing ordeal. If it helps cultivate his image, then so be it. Learn to fake his interest in a more effective way. Find a way to convince people like Hiyori and-

It infuriates him. Blood boiling in his veins, through his heart, against his skull-

Because the soft spoken man playing shitty cat videos on his phone is a pinnacle of what people want - a kind doctor with soft spots all over. Someone flawed and perfect all the same. A-

Liar. Not like him, not completely, but those who hide behind their altruism are scum. Using gentle words and promises of care - all for a singular self serving need. All to lord it over others.

Akechi gets people like him. Understands the muddled illusion that forms and twists and destroys under its own weight, under all the false platitudes. Under advice disguised as help. Under a warning disguised as kindness.

He hates Hiyori.

And that thought is what allows him to show some truth - a flit of a smile that's almost authentic.]

Can I consider this a first lesson from a mentor?

[killed]

[ There's a couple of slow blinks in response to the question before he shakes his head with a chuckle. Any well-reasoned person would capitalize on the opportunity he'd given, and Hiyori is pleased to see it. ]

... Yes, I suppose that it is.

[ He tears off another small piece of the croissant to chew on. He swallows before washing it down with a bit more of his coffee. It allows for some time for his agreement to set in and for the other's thoughts on him to settle into place. There's no need for him to worry about how Akechi views him, as just this much tells him that he lacks the nuance needed to paint a complete picture to start with. Unfortunate, difficult to overcome once bias has set in and crystalized, but repairable.

But he's right that what Hiyori offers is a warning of a kind, and another follows it, ]

However... You must understand that while I am kind to my patients, I have little tolerance for incompetence when it comes to my peers. While a person can learn from mistakes, a person who is not driven by passion for their work cannot. If you want riches and titles, they are more easily found elsewhere. You might think me a hypocrite, but the only patients of mine who care are the desperate and the ones who believe they could even buy their way into heaven. Were I to lose it tomorrow I could still provide the same quality of care. Do you understand?

[ That is what separates him from second-rate doctors who shuffle throughout the day while regretting their choice of career. They lament their lives and wallow in self-pity for having chosen a career that they hate. Those in law are much in the same, believing that a few good test scores will make their dreams come true. They lack passion and good sense alike. It's all good and fine, except their botched patients have to drag their half-dead body into others in hopes of having all the damage that had been done fixed.

He loves people, he loves to see them built up and broken down, but that sort of incompetence makes the bile rise in his throat in a way so few things do. Such as it is, his gaze and voice take on a stern quality to them, one that fades fast after he closes his eyes and exhales before fixing his smile. ]

Naturally I would not place that sort of pressure upon you any more than anyone else, the nature of your tasks aside you are at the stage where you should be practicing trial-and-error as much as learning from others rather than attempting to avoid any slight misstep... But it is a disclaimer that I must give.

[ Naturally, he speaks for the company as much as himself... He takes in another breath. There's nothing dishonest about it, but he does find these repetitive speeches tiring. He leans back, his shoulders easing, folding his hands on the edge of the table now. All done with the boring part. ]

That aside, you strike me as sharp, and I have no doubt that you have talent and potential. I hope you'll utilize it well.

[enteloki]

If at any point you find me lacking, I will gladly step aside to reevaluate my shortcomings. The desire to continuously improve and achieve is what makes us human after all. I will work hard to go beyond your expectations.

[The warning is a noose - one Akechi tightens around his own neck with a saccharine smile at the finality in his acceptance. One problem down. It doesn't matter where this guy thinks his passion lies at the end of their interaction, when his penultimate goal has little to do with him.

And then it's over. The fruitful lunch turns into a boring afternoon. That afternoon turning into an evening of pouring over notes taken, pictures captured, lines and relationships formed between shoddy photos from the company's printer.

And that turns into days, weeks, at the side of Hiyori. Ever present as a shadow to his work, Akechi finds-

A genuine interest starts to form in the routine and information. It starts as a act - attempts to sidestep and deceive to capture passing comments to find the real person he needs to focus on. He gets a better idea of the upper echelon of this hospital, is able to form some loose opinions and connections with nothing definitive to report to Shido with. He's getting impatient. Akechi moreso.

But it doesn't show in his actions and it has to do with skills gained in watchin a talented doctor, in asking questions, in reading books and articles on his phone on the matter in his spare minutes and in every minor interaction with a patient. The most amusing being those who recognize him - rare, but entertaining.

Mementos gets a little easier when he goes. Gaping wounds fixed with deft, practiced fingers and mental tricks that help him shake the grasp of ailments. The irony of the power to heal helping Akechi hurt others is a hilarious twist of fate. It's fascinating, really, how these things happen.

It's during a rare peace - a lull in the demanding patients and the busy schedule of the ever present, ever perfect Hiyori that Akechi places a small bag on his desk with a to go coffee beside it. The cover the container has a small cat sticker - something Akechi didn't ask for, but he's sure the man is pleased by it. The new cat themed cafe down the road had boosted his blog's popularity. Things are going too well, investigation aside.

He's waiting for the shoe to drop on that - tense and prepared to react when the time comes.]

Beneficence, nonmaleficence, autonomy, and justice. It's funny to me the latter two came relatively late in clinical ethics. Justice in particular has been present in human values for so long that its absence in the early eras of medicine seems almost intentional.

[Arms crossed, he leans his hip against Hiyori's desk, sipping on an iced coffee from the same shop branded on Hiyori's.]

The justice for a patient experiencing tragedy or for a doctor trying to save them. For a family who wants them to live or someone with an ailment who wishes to die. Do such thoughts ever cross your mind as someone deeply wound in the profession? Or are you driven by oath alone?

[A beat, a sip, and-]

All your patients certainly adore you, regardless.

[killed]

[ It wouldn't be hard for one to see why Hiyori has been given such a high title in spite of his relatively young age. His talent is unmatched, far exceeding many of his peers; he's a veritable fountain of knowledge, and yet he's cognizant enough of the limitations and knowledge gaps of others to be able to explain things simply and patiently. He's perfect, but not too perfect, just a bit quirky - he loves cats and cute things, he tends to avoid anything spicy or bitter, and he overworks himself to the point of exhaustion. Aside from his normal job, he works at a school once or twice a week as a child psychiatrist, stays on call, manages to juggle it with social events and other personal matters, and thus it's possible to find him asleep at his desk some mornings, having stayed overnight.

Those personal matters aside, he does seem to procrastinate on his paperwork a little too often. But all of that perfection and more is expected of him.

Last night must have been a long night, because there's a small yawn before he takes the coffee with a word of thanks, then examines the bag. His lips curve up into a smile before he takes a sip of the coffee. The cat sticker is a nice touch. ]

Often, though I don't know that I would say that it's relatively recent. We can trace medical ethics as far back as ancient Greece, but the roots must go further back; we benefit from being able to build up on the foundation set for us, but professionals are no different than any other; they see advancement as invention on their part, arrogance causing them to credit themselves alone.

[ He considers for a moment before adding, ]

I've heard countless different answers as to what justice is and how it molds itself for every different person and circumstances, and it never stops and settles in one place. But I love people, and I wish to cure all that ails them. I wish to see who they can be if only given the chance.

[ There's high expectations of him that he cannot afford not to meet, a constant sense of pressure that pulls him all directions, a need to create miracles, but that coincides with his goals rather than standing at odds with them. ]

I cannot create a life for them, of course, but a person who is not plagued by depression or having their mind eaten away at by dementia or cancer is offered better opportunity than one who suffers that affliction; a person who has a doctors who cares for them better than one who sees them as a paycheck... But I digress.

[ He waves his hand. ]

I find it too vaguely defined a word to apply it to much when compared to others. It's often too self-serving.

[enteloki]

[If only given the chance, as if his scalpel and words have the power to change people vile to the core. Chances make the cruel think there's a savior on the horizon, ready to pull them back from their fate. Disease or not, those people exist. Those people are being helped. They are being thrown back into the world, full of havoc and destruction. To claim to uniformly love all people-

Pathetic. Interesting. Weird.

But most in this facility seem to be innocent victims of genetics and bad luck. Circumstance destroyed them, broke them, consumed them and Hiyori appeared in those ashes as a guardian. Resolute and stable. Every conversation is full of care, every action done with benevolence.

Akechi doesn't care about either group. Takes Hiyori's words with a grain of salt and a sip of bitter liquid.]

May I ask you a rather personal question? One you may not be able to answer in this facility, but I am quite curious.

[killed]

[ That is, perhaps, one more area in which he differs from others in his profession. He knows of the slime that runs through a person's veins. It's something he can cut out, bleed out, squeeze out, until red blood is running through their body again. He knows of a single machine that can erase years of trauma, rewire the brain and curse what ails them. Just a few little shots of electricity can change an entire person. The dead can be brought back, preserved on a screen so that loss might never be permanent. That's love, too, giving a person every opportunity to be happy. They are happy, if only for a moment, and those who break themselves down once more still have his affection, his adoration, his offer.

Happiness is always there. They only need ask for it and he'll give it. No one believes in humanity's potential than Sou Hiyori, and no one wishes for their happiness more than him. How unfortunate, then, that most people would prefer anything to change.

He nods once in response to the question without voicing any of this, ]

Yes, of course. What is it, Akechi-kun?

[enteloki]

How to word this...

[His own coffee now rests next to his tired desk mate, fingers curling under his chin with feigned thought. A troubled look follows, wrinkling the corners of his eyes and making him avert his gaze to an undecorated wall.

Look perturbed. Worried. As if thoughts are troubling in their nature and origin. Pretend to care. Curious. Unnerved.

Both hands fall back to his side and he turns to face him.]

You must truly believe ASUNARO is a fair and just company. A place where all can be given a second chance, if they only ask for it. Afterall, there's no need for you to stay here with your caliber of education and experience. To run your own clinic would allow you the freedom to save all you please without the administrative hurdle of a huge corporation.

[Unwavering, gaze steady - he watches for any change in expression, any sign of weakness, anything to exploit.]

You could even form a nonprofit. Donations would pour in to support you. All the events you attend have created bonds to do that. So I have to ask -

What about ASUNARO keeps you here? It's not a paycheck or a title. It's not even accolades and awards. The funds for research would be given freely by those same people you support if you only asked. I find myself thinking about it quite often.

[And his thoughts have to lead down a winding path - one that coincides with the rich and famous who follow Shido without question. Blackmail, corruption, the unseen strings of a puppeteer. No one is immune to being exploited. No one cunning enough to hide all the skeletons in their closet.]

[killed]

[ He listens patiently, his gaze unwavering, with the look of a person who already knows how it ends. It's nothing that he hasn't been asked before. It's only natural, if only because such talent is highly sought after, and so his answer is smooth and natural, without a hint of hesitation, ]

It's nothing so complicated. I can do the most good here.

[ He rests his elbows on the table, forming a tent with his fingers and resting his chin on them. ]

No man is an island, Akechi-kun. I need other people as much as anyone, and were I to spur that out of some egotistical belief that I could, I would only hinder my progress as much as those of others. That's to say nothing of the administrative tangles that would come along with it...

[ His eyelids lower as he once more allows himself to consider that possibility. It's not one that's afforded to him, or perhaps it is if he wishes for it, as it hardly matters in the grand scheme of things, but it's nothing that he would so desire. He opens his eyes once more, eyelids stopping halfway. There's affection in his voice, a vague sort of pride, ]

No, I am happy with things as they are. ASUNARO shares my same core values, and I am so blessed to be able to work alongside brilliant minds, to do work that will no doubt lead to miracles in the near future, and to perform them now... It would only be ego that motivated me to leave...

[ Upon saying this he lifts his eyes once more, studying the other's expression with more care, his expression falling, ]

Though, ah, to ask that... Could it be that you're dissatisfied with the company?

[enteloki]

[It wasn't a confession Akechi was after - declarations of exploitation and wrongdoing would die with this man, buried under mounds of mud.

He said to study people - and study he is. The flicker of emotion at each point, genuine tone pervading with every passionate answer. It's simple. It's him. It's not an act, but Akechi knows from reports and whispers there's a price to those miracles. A cost for those values. Skeletons hiding in the shadow of every success.

It's the final question he's waiting for and he leans down against the desk, close and quiet. Like he's about to offer a confession - a secret shared in confidence from mentee to mentor. From confidant to confidant. Like a bond forged in trust and not in deception and intrigue.

His back is placed to a nearby camera, cutting off one view and allowing the hidden ones a better one. At this point, he's sure the place is bugged from head to toe. Not that it matters. He's simply an intern showing a concern. Fielding rumors and trying to make sense of a mystery.

Tone hushed. Cautious. Concerned. He pushes a stand of hair behind his near. Be nervous. Push it back. Nervous gestures make others let down guards.]

Not quite. My dissatisfaction stems from my respect for such a company and the firsthand care they provide to any who walk through the doors. It's my own justice that weighs heavy on me and I can't ignore it.

[A hand presses against his own chest, like the weight of his words carry real hurt.]

There are concerning rumors regarding this place, though I'm not one to take stock in idle gossip. It's the nature of it that troubles me. I worry for the future of this place and people you're trying to help, Hiyori-san.

[A a hail mary move to elicit any kind of information that would yield to some progress. A reaction. A twitch. Use words to lights fires and follow the smoke.]

After all, sometimes perceptions can be twisted and warped. The truth hidden right before your eyes. [He leans back some, back twisting to face a camera he knows is off to the side of the room.] We may be different in many regards, but you and I both have the sense to want better for others. For their health or for their justice.

[No question follows. No request for action. A piece said to incite some thought if he's not involved or start a stir if is. If he gets lucky, Hiyori's shadow will appear in Mementos soon.]

My apologies. I truly want to believe in ASUNARO and it's why I'm so passionate on the matter.

[killed]

[ Hiyori is silent for a time. He opens his mouth then shuts it, resting his hands on his lap, and there is the look of a parent trying to find the right way to explain a complex subject to a child. Morality isn't black and white, but it's not quite right to call it shades of gray either. It's a complexity that cannot be taught to those unwilling to learn.

He straightens his posture, placing his hands in his lap. At length he finally speaks, ]

"Don't let perfection be the enemy of good."

[ His smile is gentle, his expression almost sympathetic. It's naive to think of the world in extremes. Those who do are equally disappointed. ]

I have been asked similar questions many times, and I do find it to be a loaded question... I am wrong if I believe the company to be without fault, and yet I am wrong to stay if I believe that it is. But in the end, I can only live by the company vow, "who I wish to be today, 'asu naro' tomorrow I will be." If there is a sickness that runs through the company's veins, then I shall find a way to purge it so that tomorrow it might be better. People who have power should not run away the moment they find something they dislike; that's a child's way of thinking.

[ It's there too. He's not completely blind. But it's not the illegal experimentation. It's not that, because those experiments are last ditch efforts for people who are given a chance at life and happiness if they succeed. It's not about those who have been lost, because they were revived. It's not about that at all.

When he wins that game... Yes, happiness is there, one only need ask for it. But he cannot ask for it, for there's far too much he's still needed for, and yet he has no need to. He is happy. He is loved. There is no other life that he would wish for. That's why he can speak so earnestly, why there's nothing but interest as he asks, ]

... Then, those are my thoughts, and so let me ask you: What do you believe that "justice" really is? What is it that makes a world "just?"

[enteloki]

I'm comforted to know your view on the matter is well-intentioned, but I find your question to me to also be a loaded one, as you eloquently put it.

[That small tidbit gave him some deep insight into the company structure - Hiyori has more influence and perception than he gave him credit for. The choice of words - purge and sickness to describe the company's flaws apt. It's something deep, with longevity. There's something in his expression that makes him want to rip it apart - an answer under the flesh he can peel piece by piece.

Probing. Confident. He lets the nerves in his voice fade with the shift in topic.]

It's complicated, as I'm sure you know. Justice to one may mean injustice to another. Society's view of justice may not match with an individual's own and vice versa. It's why there are so many variations of its meaning in life and in media.

Take into account two common ones - the antihero and the hero. Both can be seen as just, despite the differences in actions, intent and goal. Antagonists even get large followings due to their words and actions - just to themselves, unjust to the hero.

[There's an authenticity in the air - one that hasn't appeared in this building since the day he walked in. It's a crock of shit in this pathetic, broken world and it's that aspect of it that fascinates him the most.

Arms cross and uncross over his chest. Pretend to be in thought over it. Like it's a topic that hasn't permeated his mind since his mother's dangling corpse appeared in his vision.]

I've always been fascinated by the topic - about those who fight against the world due to their own righteousness. All I can say is my sole interest is figuring out the truth. From there, the merits of their actions may prove just, even if the methods aren't traditional or society sees it as wrong.

[He plucks the now watered down iced coffee back into his hand, peeling himself back from the desk entirely.]

It's similar to the ethics of medicine - a physician should use their power to tell the truth, explain and allow a patient their right to autonomy to make a decision. However to practice full autonomy requires full, well intentioned information. Don't you think we're all warranted that right in this scenario as well?

[killed]

The truth, hm... I was always fond of stories that spoke of love and courage, but I liked mystery novels too. I'm particular to the ones from the golden age of mystery.

[ His cup is half-empty now. He was taking sips from it while listening to the other share his thoughts, but now he places his fingertips on the edges of the lid, lifting it up and shaking it. The ice cubes inside rattle together and swirl about in the liquid before he sets it back down. ]

Poirot is a man who chased the truth, Holmes a puzzle solver, and [ Gervase ] Fen carried in him a passionless sense of justice and of proportion... Detectives are figures that you can trust, at least in any story that follows the rules. The same could be said of culprits confessions - Justice Wargrave has no need to deceive us when his cause was just, despite polite society's disagreement. There are no lies to be found at the end of the story, and everything is made clear.

[ The latter could be put under a microscope, his motives and methods debated, but the sequence of events that he described were an undeniable truth. There might be something to be garnered for that, or it might be nothing more than one of those little tangents he sometimes offers; just one more piece of the conversation to be examined beneath the microscope and slotted into one box or another, or otherwise disregarded.

He rests his elbow on the desk now, resting his chin on his palm, curled fingers pressed against his cheek. He carries on, rounding out his roundabout way of speaking his thoughts, ]

... Though they were just a game that I played, really. The author would challenge me to solve their puzzle, and I would do so... Though I must say, And Then There Were None proved to be quite the challenge. Are you familiar with that one?

[ He almost certainly would be. It's one of the better known Western mystery novels. The unusual storytelling style, the solution, the sheer challenge of it all justify its acclaim, and one who wishes to pass as cultured should know of such things. ]

[enteloki]

[Puzzles and mysterious enrapture his attention in way that rivals only the licks of fog under his feet in Mementos. No matter how small the callback, he can't help to listen and eat up those words with a rapt attention that hasn't been present in weeks.

There's something here, but what?

Akechi notes the names mentioned, the comments formed from someone he underestimated all this time. A mistake, but not a failure.

It's also why the book itself raises his hackles, alarms blaring and fading into background noise in the back of his skull. Of all the classic mysterious, the one where the the supposed arbiter of justice turned into a murderous vigilante feels deliberate. Intended. A segue from their previous conversation to this one.]

It's been some time since I've read it. I can't say I recall much. [Lie. Watch.] But the ending was one that stuck with me, even if the finer details are lost. It was a rather convoluted plot on Wargrave's part, but that does beg the question over who is allowed to enact justice when society fails to do so. How does one decide what punishment fits the crime outside of the law?

[A beat and-]

It's a slippery slope to tread.

me putting some cliffnotes in here rn

[killed]

[ Good question. He's not disappointed to see that someone who's put so much time into their image is at least this well-read. ]

Yes, that's right. Dostoevsky's aptly named Crime and Punishment shows Raskolnikov arguing fiercely that those who benefit society most ought to be above rules and morals, and yet to commit a murder tears him apart so much that only upon being punished can he find redemption; The Count of Monte Cristo tells not the story of revenge, but of a broken man unable to accept that he's lost everything. He lashes out, destroys, and only realizes his mistakes too late. Both men are saved only by their moral compasses.

The latter is rather funny, don't you think? A cautionary tale whose imitators have warped its message beyond recognition...

[ Dantes in particular was a tragic figure, for his entire life was consumed by a desire for revenge. It did nothing to fill the hole in his heart though, and in the end his salvation came from those who stayed his hand - Mercedes who loved the son that he might have killed in retaliation, Morrel who protected the daughter of Villefort. Still he continued though, still he continued, until he led to the pointless death of a young child. He sunk deeper into despair for revenge, yet found life in looking forward with those he cared for.

Yes, the stories that followed the point. Dantes was dead. There was no taking back his life. There was no marrying Mercedes. The past was gone, the world moved on, and so too did he have to. ]

But I digress. Mystery novels are unique in how often they refuse to pass judgment. There's Murder on the Orient Express that's in a similar vein. Each party present inflicted one stab wound as retribution for the crimes to them. In the end, "the criminal escaped in the snow," as that is what the passengers settled upon.

[ It's another book that's reached such high acclaim, one in which justice was brought to a gangster who had kidnapped and killed a three-year-old good, all after collecting a ransom from the family, and whom escaped justice due to those same corruption and technicalities that Wargrave would speak of. Poirot, satisfied with having solved the puzzle, had no need to act further.

He folds his arms on the desk, leaning forward a tad. He's fond of these discussions as much as anything, and it's only natural that it would come up at some point or another. ]

... Wargrave enacted his "justice" indiscriminately, including upon himself. The passengers of the Orient Express both enacted their "justice" as well. If we're to speak of it, then I should ask: Do you believe there's any difference between the two?

u being my hero forever for it

[enteloki]

[It's not an act.

The way Akechi pulls a chair to the man's desk to settle into the engrossing topic or how his hands fold under his chin with those comments.

Note the books. The takeaways. Questions. Piecing and weaving together the off the cuff remarks in relation to the fire he attempted to set. It's smoke, from an undefinable area he needs to fan until the path is clear.

Coffee forgotten, he takes his time formulating a response. It's a difficult subject - one with a clear response he would use to please the media when they thought he was preaching the truth.

One he may need to adjust for a perceptive doctor. A half true. Half life. Something to get this back into his control.

He's not watching Hiyori anymore - something he notes when his eyes bore too hard into the wooden desk and he recognizes shades of brown instead of green. A mistake, maybe. One he rectifies by pulling his gaze up, forcing it back to the man's face.]

There is a difference in every intent and motive. No two people will react to a scenario the same way. Even if the action has the same result, this is the reason trials are important. A murderer with an empathetic motive will serve far less time than one who derives pleasure from sadism of it. Those who express remorse may walk free sooner. A criminal that escapes due to the neglect others - it all ultimately depends on the bias of who's deciding the outcome.

[Gaze falls again, then back up. There are flaws in the justice system. Deep and corrupt. Himself along those disgusting thralls of fake morality, but-]

To be frank, the difference isn't the most pressing question from the scenario you've offered. It's the truth.

[And this is where his confidence shines, hands unfolding and moving with every inflection in his words.]

But what do you do when the truth comes from an unreliable narrator? Can it be trusted alone to make an informed decision? No, I think it certainly can't.

[Because Wargraves was a manipulator, an exploiter, and all of those characters hold some type of high and mighty ego that's hard to shake.]

Which is why I make it a priority to see all I can with my own two eyes. Whether it's books or reality, I'll gather the evidence and make my own assumption. Though I certainly can't say all would agree with me. I wouldn't expect it.

[A beat, and-]

My apologies. I don't think that quite answers your question. I tend to get worked up over this topic and deviate.

i got ur back!!

[killed]

It's no trouble, but you misunderstand. Wargrave isn't an unreliable narrator at all. From the motive to his methods, what he presents to us is an absolute truth. In a normal novel, our detective is the truth given form. You may pass judgment on their actions as you please, but a mystery novel ceases to be one the moment the reader is given reason to doubt it. Likewise, a reader who distrusts the facts given will never reach the solution.

[ That is, perhaps, why the detective is rarely allowed to pass judgment; the truth and facts that they are to represent is so easily dirtied and corrupt by emotion. His gaze never wavers, nor does the pleasant smile that he always seems to wear, he speaks without skipping a beat, animated and earnest. ]

He is an oddity though, isn't he? In a normal story, the detective would represent the "truth," while the culprit would make up the "heart" - people who are motivated logic and emotion, if you will, but because we have no true detective he must act as both. If you deny his words, then your mind has tricked you, and you will forever be incapable of reaching the solution.

[ How much thought must has the boy sitting before him put into this subject? It must have been quite a bit, and yet not nearly enough. He has confidence in his beliefs, but only enough to blind him. This is, he thinks, a person who's locked themselves into place, who digs their heels in for fear of finding themselves to have founded his beliefs and actions alike on a half-formed understanding of the world... Or perhaps he's simply entrusted the wrong people to shape them, and hasn't yet learned to think for himself properly. ]

... So then, you would think yourself to be the arbitrator of the truth?

[ His voice lowers a tad, a touch more thoughtful now. There's neither scorn nor presumption it, nothing but simple curiosity. ]