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( active ) your turn to die: sou hiyori
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no subject
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?"
no subject
[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?
no subject
[ 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. ]
no subject
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
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
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!!
[ 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. ]
no subject
You will forever be incapable of reaching the solution a vice in his chest. No, he is the solution. He knows the solution. It's always within grasp and-
He's deviating. Refocus. It's not about Shido. Not about Mementos. It's a conversation between peers over classic novels.
But the mask fell in that second of thought, his face contorting and warping into something sullen, dark and full of vitriol. One second later, it's fades into something placid as he leans back into the chair. His palms rest against his knees, holding tight.]
The way you make that sound - it would be highly egotistical of me to think that. An arbitrator of truth for myself alone, perhaps.
[They're speaking of someone that act as both 'truth' and 'heart'. Akechi almost laughs at the implication of it. Of the phantom thieves, stealing hearts and the 'truth' that pours from the lips of their targets.]
Though, you have given me much to think about. Perhaps I have been considering things from the wrong angle and would benefit from opening my mind a bit more. The next time I read that book, I'll certainly think of you.
[The next time being directly after work today.]
no subject
[ How often can one find that in this world? More often now in the day and age of technology, but even those aren't quite the same. Nothing can quite satisfy him in the same way, perhaps because they're not quite so personal... Nothing quite so simple. There's not so much as a twitch as he watches Akechi struggle to keep his composure, nothing at all to suggest that he'd noticed the shift.
People, too, are like riddles, ones that beg to be solved. He hasn't found one that he couldn't in some time now, nor one where he couldn't predict the outcome, and he wonders if this will be the same; if so, then it would be more productive to act as a casual observer and wait for confirmation. It's with that thought in mind that he decides to continue, ]
... Allow me to offer one more thought for your consideration. People are, too, made up of logic and emotions - we gather information and piece it together, but we filter it through our experiences and twist it to meet our expectations. Having settled on what we believe to be the correct answer, we can wish to stop thinking, satisfied. It blinds you to all new information and steals away all opportunity from you.
So while you should decide on it for yourself, you must also be willing to overwrite it over and over... Is that difficult to understand? If so, I might say that we are all unreliable narrators.
[ He leans back in his chair. ]
I say this because while you're only so many years younger than me, I suspect you've acted as an adult for much longer. You'll find yourself to be more vulnerable than most, and all that much more if you fail to recognize it.
[ Hiyori likewise lacked a childhood, but it was a fair bit different for him. He was groomed for leadership, for perfection, and in such a way that he could remain detached from those emotions which stir the heart, that cause it to flutter before falling, splattering on the pavement. He was ever under careful guidance, and to an extent he still is. He has no regrets, no complaints, but there is perhaps just the slightest pang of pity. ]
no subject
Rotten, shitty adults who purvey themselves as all knowing - who hide behind altruism and guidance as shields for their sins, their crimes, their own moral shortcomings. Inadequacy and failure covered up by helping.
Akechi hates Hiyori and-
Hiyori is as intriguing as he is annoying. He knows something. He talks in riddles. With knowing.
Vulnerable? Him?
How insulting.
Akechi's heart is a match and Hiyori is the spark, but it's not a warming fire. It's an explosion. It's consuming. It spreads and spreads and spreads.]
While I appreciate your advice-
[Voice steady. Heart racing. Calm. Tense. Fingers clenched over knees and-
Lean back, breathe, remain neutral. If he slips, it's over. If his mask falls, it's over. The value of his time here turning completely worthless. Be righteous, be curious, be a detective.
The thought doesn't match his thankfully neutral expression.]
Do you change yourself with every person you interact with, using their experiences to reshape your view? I almost say that's precarious in itself. There are many people in the world who will use that to change you for worse or for their own means.
[Akechi is accustomed to changing his view on cases - on murders, crimes, activities and people.
But it's always with the caveat he is who he is-with the protection that comes with goals and a complete understanding of himself. Complete knowing. Complete sense of ego that cannot be shifted or shaped into anyone's mold. He can't be manipulated by them.]
You may find yourself in a dangerous position one day.
no subject
[ That is one of the few things that all great philosophers are inclined to agree on. Hiyori could never lead such contented life. He loves humans far too much to stop trying to understand them. He's far too afraid to stop looking all around him.
He could stop there and that might prove to be better, as he has no real stake in the end result of this person's life. But he's come this far already. Those little twitches, those hints of irritation, that struggle to avoid reacting - all those little things make him want to push more.
He's already disliked, already made himself something foreign and uncomfortable, and so he sees no reason not to satisfy his curiosity. ]
I learn something new with each interaction, from each work I consume, and in doing so I am able to expand my view of the world. By encountering other views, I can strengthen my own by challenging them, or otherwise adjust them.
[ He offers a vague gesture to signify that this is one such example, though which category it might fall into in the end he leaves for the other to guess at. ]
If I find myself to be in a precarious situation, that isn't for having listened and considered. Those people are dangerous whether or not I believe them to be so - I'll simply have become aware of it.
no subject
[Dangerous. He's dangerous and that's-
Exciting. Makes every word weave and ebb into his mind like threads tying him to reality. No zoning out. No missteps allowed. Every word has meaning and every reaction is noted, in the same way he's sure Hiyori is watching him.
He keeps his face pleasant. Neutral. Cautious and curious.]
What do you think I'm learning from my interactions with you?
no subject
[ He lists the options slowly, in the low voice that suggests one is giving careful consideration to something. There's a twinkle of amusement in his eyes though, just a touch humored as he comes to a conclusion, ]
Could it perhaps be that we're getting to know each other?
[ A little of this, a little of that, but nothing of real note about the organization - nothing more than they choose to let on. It's of comparatively little interest to a singular person of interest though; organizations and hierarchies can be sorted out, goals and methods unpacked, but people are far more difficult. They're at once the easiest puzzle to solve and the most difficult. And much as authors wish for their riddles to be solved, so too do people wish for others to find the answer - to see them. It is, then, far more important to learn from one's interactions.
None of which is suggested in his light tone, just a bit teasing, but pleased with the suggestion. ]
no subject
He wants to break Hiyori's high and mighty words and crush that smile with his own bare hands. The question was rhetorical - he should've expected an equally inane response to a request that had no real answer, but somehow-
Or maybe it was always going to be an irritation, whatever Hiyori said. Whether it was wrong, right or any other bullshit in between.]
I think we are. In fact, it feels like I learn more about you every day. What a deep honor it is to have you as a mentor.
[The words are coated in honey and laced with arsenic. His body moving from his sitting position, to stand off towards the side of the room. He feigns eyeing a patient, as if checking on them. Not that he gives two shits about their status.]
Please know that I will continue watching you for as long as I'm able. There's still so much to learn after all.