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EVENT

Reverted
The city of Recollé...have you looked beyond the city lately? It may be time to do so.

I.

The good news, perhaps, is that everyone is back in their original bodies. The last few weeks may have been trying and embarrassing for several of you, but never fear! You're all in this together.

The nice thing about returning to your original body is that everything else seems to disappear along with the unintentional swapping. Your dreams on the evening of the 16th and the 17th are unoccupied and you're blissfully alone. Hallucinations fade away and the city almost feels brighter and cleaner. The messy paint job from May and June slowly flakes off to reveal a sparkling almost-new landscape below. All buildings, landmarks, flora and fauna are back to their original colors. The sky, however, is still painted a strange wash of colors and symbols.

The other nice thing about returning to your original body is that it's much easier to feel the sudden, sharp pain on your palm at midnight on the 18th, a needling high-pressure pain that lasts for all of 30 seconds. Upon looking at your hand, however, you'll notice something new.

In bright red font there's a new marking that reads: 13 Days:23:59:59.

58. 57. 56...

The timer steadily counts down, each second synced with each beat of your heart. As the days pass by the timer will slowly shift from the red to a dark, ominous purple. The glow of the mark becomes harder to ignore, and there doesn't seem to be a way to remove it. Good luck with that.

II.

The Retrospec app doesn't seem to be much better. The scrambled messages and posting errors seem to have stopped and users are no longer receiving messages and pictures about themselves.

In fact, the app seems to be quiet for a while.

As users continue to use the app they will find that any post, comment or message that they send via the app will be tagged with a different ID. Instead of their name, all messages will be from Alpha##### or Beta#####. The string of numbers will be unique for each user and cannot be changed at any time. Individual mailboxes will be attached to your name, but the Alpha/Beta ID has made its way there, too.

Over the course of the rest of the month, Alphas (those who have had the app for at least a year from August 2017) will find that messages to other Alphas are sent more easily than to Betas (those who have had the app for less than a year from August 2017) and vice versa. Messages to anyone from the opposite "faction" may drop out half-way or appear blank entirely. It might be wise to find a better mode of communication in the meantime.

III.
Even if you're alone in your dreams, you're not alone in the waking world. No one is free from the timer on their palm, though they may come to find that it impacts some users more than others.

Some users will experience a steady pulsating in their hand as the timer counts backwards, each second ticking by. Standing still just long enough will send the pulse out of their hands and through the rest of their body, over their arms and through their feet straight into the ground.

The earth begins to shake under these unlucky users, little quakes and trembles that spread out and seek out anyone else nearby. Whether you know this person or not, whether you're alone or several of you are impacted by this earthquake, the ground beneath you splits open and you're pulled straight down into the crevice, falling aimlessly. Instead of finding your own life flashing before your eyes, you'll find yourself witnessing events, faces, and memories that are important to the user the pulses came from.

On the outside of things, the user will promptly collapse into a coma-like state no matter where they're at. Inside their mind, however, a scene begins to set itself to welcome you as you land. It isn't a memory and it isn't a hallucination. It's a construct of someone else's innerworkings that have trapped you and blocked you in.

As the haze around you dissipates, the puzzle you received earlier this month floats in front of you. Whether you have finished building it or not it is now fully completed and all of the words have faded except for "Gordian Knot."

Your cell phones will not work in these dreamscapes, and even Retrospec seems to be disconnected. It's up to you to venture further into someone else's mind and help them untangle whatever mystery is hidden within themselves.

IV.
So about that timer. As time begins to run out, more and more people begin to experience dream dives and encounter the knots of others that they must fix. Even inside the dreamscape, the timer glows just as brightly as it had out in the real world and it continues counting down.

At least it gives you a sense of time and just how many minutes, hours, or days you've been stuck inside someone's subconscious. You might even realize that the timer is directly tied to just how much time you have to unravel the knots of your friends, loved ones, and strangers.

Easy, right? Take caution, citizens. The monsters and demons lurking in the corners of someone else's psyche can manifest to something quite powerful. You will not wake up and be booted out of someone's dream if you are attacked, but your physical body and mind will shut down and remain unconscious for one week.

Be careful how you approach these knots, however! Should you change any part of them too much, the host will find themselves rejecting this new information. Too great of a change will result in the loss of an important memory to them and no way to recover it inside the dive.

Even with these possible losses divers are responsible for fixing what's gone wrong and relieving the knot wound tightly in the host's mind. Venture forward, explore, and break it apart to awaken then. You will be greatly rewarded for your effort.

Failure to break the knot and save the host from this comatose state will result in all parties suffering a loss. At first it may not be obvious, but over time it will be clear an important memory or item has left your possession.

Is it just limited to dives though? Some users will feel that even with successful diving they don't quite feel like themselves. It seems as though there's some further self-evaluation they must meet in order to fully recover who they are...or were, as it may be.

Tick-tock, Retrospecters. Mind the time.

BONUS.
Ever since he moved in back in February, the lights have always been on in Zee's office and home at the top of the Towers. Office hours are whenever he feels like making them and he's usually reachable by phone, email, or app.

However, beginning on the 18th, messages to his inbox begin to go unanswered. Checking the inbox itself will reveal a change as well.

Delta#02018329 is no longer receiving messages.

On the 19th, the lights go off permanently. Beginning on the 20th, anyone who ventures to his office will find the building empty and locked, no sign of Zee at all. Reaching out to him receives a bounce-back error message.

Any previous correspondences with him will remain, though his name has been replaced with his Delta ID.

It's hard to say what's happened, but after some time, all users will finally receive a message from Delta#68422.

Stop him.

No other messages will be sent or received from this account.

Welcome to

recolle's August event, part 2!

As notated in the plotting post, the dreamdives are now live! Players are in charge of creating their own unique dive experiences for characters to explore and play through. These can be as harmless or as dangerous as you'd like. However, please be sure to let us know here if your character will be failing a dive and what memory/item they will be losing!

For Prompt II, characters IDs will be comprised of the following: The date your character first appeared on Retrospec (so in Zee's case, that was 02/01/18) and the last four digits of your character's IC inbox as found in the HTML (in Zee's case, 8329.) These IDs will be more relevant in September, but for ease of playing/making sure no one ICly overlaps please use these numbers!

Friendly reminder that if your character will be keeping their new AUs, please reply to this comment on the OOC plot post! As per Prompt IV, characters who are failing to recover their original AUs will begin to notice something is off and will not be able to accomplish what is needed to regain their original AUs. What this is is up to you!

As per the plotting post, threading out successful dream dives will earn you a free memory! Qualifying threads must be at least five comments from you and can be from you either hosting a dive or participating in one. Please note that failed dives will not be eligible for freebies.

Any questions you have regarding this event may be directed to the mod comment here. Be sure to review the mods' question thread on the plotting post for important information as well!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Togusa's memory of how much the two women quietly didn't get along fuels the scene. He knew, he always knew, but he tried to keep his damn mouth shut to keep from making things worse or trying to pick a side. It was never jealousy between the women, just personalities too similar and too apart at the same time: similar attitudes driven by motivations too disparate for them to ever get along.

So Misaki pushes her glasses up on her nose. "When did I ever fit? Was there ever a time I really fit into the plan Hitori had for his life, or was I just a placeholder? a puzzle piece that fit well enough to go into a spot he had set aside for me?"

"That's enough," comes out of Togusa, but it's not very strong.

Misaki plows ahead anyway. "Even now, the shape of the piece has changed, but I'm just a filler." Her eyes flick to Togusa. "You won't figure this out unless you see what I'm actually doing here."

The cruelty, the bluntness, it's tinted with their last argument, the overriding way that Togusa remembers Misaki. So much of the good in their relationship is a more distant memory. This side of her is too strong.

Mariko liked Misaki for about a week after she and Togusa started dating. They were cute, they seemed happy and he really adored her. However she’d always been good at reading inbetween the lines and what she began to notice made resentment fester. They were too similar and not similar enough. In her opinion, Misaki tried too hard to make herself into what Togusa wanted, instead of being honest.

No, she dangled what Togusa wanted most in the world in front of him and partway through decided that she didn’t want to play house anymore.

Even still, Misaki had an enviable grace to everything she did - the questions are too clinical, rhetorical but wounding anyway. Her gaze slips over to Togusa as he protests weakly and for a split-second she can feel herself cocking her arm for the slap. She fights the urge, the desire to slap the glasses of off the phantom because she knows that she’s hearing Togusa’s version of her.

“That’s not right.” She says evenly, too evenly. “I tried to talk to her, woman to woman. She was just as cold hearted as this thing, but the second I even suggested that she didn’t love you or Hikari she hit the roof. ”

A laugh leaves her, bitter and amused. Misaki had stopped bothering with formality, after that and Mariko stopped pretending for Togusa’s sake.

“I’d have liked her better, if you weren’t the only person she fought. This thing is challenging your emotions too openly. Why?”

Mari's words make Togusa hesitate, and as he does, so does she. Misaki pulls back, hand to chin in a more clinical posture. When he looks to Misaki again, Togusa is trying to really, truly see her. Because what Mari says rings true.

"She loved Hikari. Loves. God, she still does. But I think it hurts too much, that she is something Misaki can't have now. There's- always been a little truth in what Misaki said to me. That I wanted a family so bad I- stopped paying attention to the specifics."

That he stopped noticing, as Misaki did, that she woke up one day and was a very different person than she ever thought she'd be. That getting away from Hitori was actually the best move she could make.

Misaki hesitantly approaches Togusa, puts one slim hand on his shoulder, and looks him in the eye. "Whatever I am to you now. You picked me for this because what you remember most? Is I wouldn't just let things lie. So now when someone needs to get you to open your eyes to something? It's me you put here."

Togusa looks Misaki up and down, with a stricken expression. His hand flinches, almost like it wants to reach up and cover hers. But he stops and lets it fall, and then he turns to Mariko again. "We aren't actually in Magatus...are we?"

Being in his dream again, especially one like this, it's almost too much for Mariko to handle. She's never been good with mushy stuff, even outside of romance and when Misaki approaches, she swallows her irritation and looks away.

They talk and her feelings swing through jealousy and mortification. Togusa is a softie and still over the the moon for Misaki, even if he's too hurt to realize it. He'd line up to get his heartbroken all over and Mariko can't help but be bitter that no one she'd ever tried to let in wanted her that much. Even Tatsuo let her go and chase her wildness in the end.

He asks his question, more confirmation and it's then she looks back at the dream version of herself and shudders.

"Considering I've never been here? Probably not."

Togusa steps away, letting the brief contact between him and Misaki end, and he turns to more fully consider the shades between the trees. "Another Retrospec game. All right. So what's the point here?"

A pointed look at Mariko. "Misaki says I'm not seeing something?" He runs both his hands over his face, like he's trying to wipe something away.

Even as it is annoying, Togusa realizes that somewhere in the back of his mind, he likes this kind of thing. The best way to get Togusa to actually accept something is to paint it up in an allegory, wrap it in a mystery, and make him work it out, instead of just telling him. So there's a half-feeling of being played. But he'll do it, because he really can't resist.

"Where do we start?"

Togusa starts getting his head right, getting his game face on and Mariko smiles, just a little. Even distraught, he’s always been reliable and she hopes that whatever it is that Retrospec is trying to make him remember - that it’s worth it in he end.

“You do, sometimes. The forest is appropriate.” It almost kills her to agree with Misaki’s shade but she can’t help but tease him a little, even now. Give him something familiar for his brain to hold to as he gets ready to put in work, an anchoring point.

“We start with the familiar.”

With a sigh, Mariko approaches her shade and tries not to think about it.

“What do you make of all this?”

Mariko's double acts very close to herself. The shade's expression matches hers, annoyance mixed with concern and curiosity. There is a problem to be fixed here.

"I think Retrospec is yanking us around. But given their subject? Maybe coming right out in the open would get more resistance."

She looks past Mariko to Togusa, a small shake of her head. "For all you like to follow the truth, sometimes, Hitori. When you really don't want something to be true, you'll find any reason you can to not believe it."

A hand moves to Mariko's hip, she shifts her weight. "We're remembering the same place, the same events. Start by accepting that one."

Togusa looks down, feeling a little admonished by having two Marikos in front of him trying to get him to see something.

Mariko looks away from her shade when Togusa does -- her eyebrows pop and she grimaces faintly, 'Yikes' clear in the way she tries not to say anything. She's long past wanting to hammer the point about their shared universe home, but hearing his own mind do it is both too much and strangely validating.

"Easy." she can't help but chide the shade. "This is a lot for anyone to swallow. You come through when it counts Hitori."

Mariko looks around the treeline, past the first row to the second. There's a flock of kids, but something strikes Mariko and her gaze snaps to Genitania. She's the only woman who looks grown, besides herself and Misaki and Mari feels a stone hit her stomach. She's in the second string, faded like she's part of the background. Like she's been forgotten.

It's a shame, because Mariko would remember if Hitori brought a girl like this around. Hell, he probably wouldn't have because - frankly - she looks more like her type than his.

"I'd remember a face like yours," she begins, unconsciously drifting towards Genitania because a pretty lady would be easy after the mess of men she's had to deal with. "What's your name? How do you know Togusa?"

When Gentiana looks up, some of the color comes back to her. The vividness of Hitori's memory of her colors her image, and a very gentle smile settles on her face. Her hands cross in front of her. If anything, the air feels a touch cooler around her.

"Gentiana Illyria," a nod of her head. "You and I missed one another at school. I entered after you graduated. I met Hitori in literature classes. He has a very philosophical mind."

The smile is near-mirrored on Togusa's face, a gentle relaxation calms him. Even just like this, talking with Gentiana is like a balm on his heart. "Gentiana," a whisper.

"Hitori," she always had a special intonation for his name, like it was something sacred. "You loved me. Do not doubt it. Our time was brief, but it was legitimate. You took your time, to assure," she elegantly raises a hand, gestures towards Misaki, "your motivations were correct this time. It was proper. Do not regret it. Don't regret- us."

Another small smile, edging on playful, towards Hitori. "Us is a word you are allowed use, you know."

Mariko's eyes widen almost impossibly as she looks at Genitania, horror setting in fully. She was forgotten, she had to have been for her to talk to Togusa like that. Even if they'd missed each other in college, there was no way in Hell Togusa would have been able to keep from gushing about her.

"Shit."

She looks back to Togusa, looking sorrier than he's ever seen - almost heartbroken before she turns her attention back to Gentiana. They have to get to the bottom of this, don't they and what's worse - he head's starting to hurt.

"When did you two date? I feel like would have heard about it if you two were a thing..."

This time it's Togusa's turn, his voice stays light, fond. It's just nice in a way he can't quite put his finger on to talk like this. "Recently. We reconnected when Retrospec started. Year and a half ago. We went on a few dates."

"A touch of fate threw us together on a blind Valentine's Matchmaker," Gentiana chuckles.

Togusa's cheek smiles so deep it dimples. "We saw each other a few times. Then, the network lost hold of her. Right when I was getting up the courage to tell her it meant something more." But that smile doesn't vanish completely. "She came back. It was so brief. Just around Christmas, New year's. That. If anything was official, it would be that."

"..And then I was gone again," Gentiana finishes.

"Still in the city, teaching at the University now," Togusa nods. But, that shows the final shape of it, and Togusa looks at Mariko meaningfully.

Gentiana wasn't the one who was forgotten.

Mariko bites her lip, feeling the sting of her eyes and hating how her stomach turns because she puts it together quick. There's no way that Hikari hasn't met this woman, not after a year and half -- not with the way she makes Hitori smile like a fucking idiot. If she closes her eyes she can practically see it, Hikari mooning over Gentiana's pretty long hair - asking Togusa if she can do her hair like IllyRia-san.

Hikari would love this woman, almost as much as her father does.

It feels cold; the air, her breath, her blood. The chill makes her shiver as she laughs, a quick, mirthless 'ha' as she looks at Togusa. She knows she doesn't have the heart to say it outright - if it were anyone else but him, she could but this hurts.

"Man, I feel like Hikari-chan would never be able to stop talking about a lady like that." She'll lead him, but he won't drink. Not this time. Not when it's damn near poison.

"So tell me why I haven't heard a word from her about the pretty lady her daddy knows?"

It doesn't quite hurt. That's the wrong word for it. It's not a punch to the gut or a slap to the face. But there is still a sensation like something has happened that cannot be undone. Like a glass edged an inch past the edge of a table, watching it fall and shatter forever, with not a thing to be done about it.

The breath leaves Togusa, because he can see it too. He can picture Hikari and Gentiana together, Hikari's little laugh lighting up Gentiana's eyes. Gentiana's soft, elegant nobility inspiring everything Hikari does. The thought of them sitting down for a tea party together nearly breaks Togusa's heart.

Because it didn't happen. It should have happened. But it didn't.

"Hikari is the piece that doesn't fit." A bare whisper. "Hikari is."

All of the threads that connect the people together light up, softly, as if in response to a correct answer. The shades each look up to Togusa, and there is a look of sympathy expressed in varying ways on each of their faces.

The whole puzzle can unravel when he sees it that way. His teeth grit together from the tension, eyes squeeze so tight in denial, but just like the glass can't be put back together again...

"He," venom, bile, poison, a word that can only mean Togusa's Other, "is a father." He will leave the other half of that damn assumption unsaid, because then he will shatter along with the glass.

Mariko breathes out and it sounds more like a hiss, unable to stifle the anger that surges at his bitter tone. He's right to be bitter and sad, he's right to be infuriated but she can't take it. She can practically feel the ocean filling - between what he considers himself and what he considers his Other.

"Stop it, Togusa." she spits in an irritated voice they both know isn't Mariko's.

She winces because her shoulder hurts, and she shakes her head --she has to bury this before it can get out. All his hurt does is remind her of her own and there's no room to stifle this secondhand grief. Hikari wasn't hers, but she has never once forgot that maybe if she could have behaved long enough, settled down long enough that maybe she could have had a little hyper-active ball of energy of her own.

"The truth stares you in the face and you're too busy rolling over and dying for the grief to see it."

It's dangerously close to a low blow, but she sidesteps it for the very real frustration with his habit. Distancing himself from his Other is only going to make this worse.

Togusa's mouth falls open briefly, then an audible click as his back teeth clench together. One damn refuge he's got to leave his psyche in, and Mariko has to challenge even that. The look up at her is more of a glare than anything else.

"Which truth would that be? You want me to give in to Retrospec's idea? We're the same person, my life isn't the one that matters? I should sit back and let everything about me get replaced by him?"

"I've already got a computer in my brain and a hole in my chest, where is it going to stop?" The words come out angrily, too fast for him to realize he wasn't supposed to say that. His hand grabs at his own jacket, fingers fist in the material.

The light from the threads connecting everyone together shines again, and this time, when the light fades, everyone has shifted. Changed. Most of them are now armed to the teeth. Dante's sword of shadows forms in his hand. James' arm is replaced with a mechanical one, a dozen guns are strapped to every inch of him. Eleanor simply pulses with an unseen aura of power that shakes the space around her. (Oddly, among all of them, Tatsuo remains unchanged.)

Mariko's double is wearing the riot armor from the dream, assault rifle casually slung across her back.

Togusa holds out his hands. "Should we just- let this happen?"

It's as much her nature as it is his - she doesn't have a concept of a safe-haven, of a place that's sacred where no one else can reach. Trauma is so painful because there is nowhere to run from it; you can only find a way to live with it.

Mariko meets his glare unflinchingly, her expression almost doll-like save for the knitting of the eyebrows. She envies him for how his hearts bleeds and adores him being the kind of person she just can't be anymore.

He yells like he's supposed to, holds the wound he might as well have and she doesn't flinch. Mariko listens, because he's still her friend, even if they can't seem to understand each other on this one point - then his dream arms itself and Mariko feels everything shift and go distant.

Everything stills and Mariko presses hand to her heart, her touch drifts up to the pulse at her throat. It's still there, thank god - but why doesn't it feel right.

"I hate you so fucking much I can't stand it sometimes." It's Mariko's standard hyperbole and it's the only thing that sounds like her as she speaks.

"But fine you're right. Retrospec very clearly has the power to wipe us completely and sometimes they do because they're a bunch of fucking clumsy idiots that can't merge information sets cleanly to literally save anyone's life - but sure Retrospec is trying to destroy us."

Her fingernails dig at her throat and for all her stillness, her hand is shaking and glaring is too paltry of a word.

"You treat me like I don't understand anything because you've been on the app longer, because you remember more of the world we come from. You lost your daughter and it hurts, boo-fucking-hoo."

She's crying, fighting the inward turn of her shoulders. He wants the truth, fine he can have it.

"You have one up on me, Togusa. You have Hikari, she's just not here. No matter what happens, I never get my mother back."

And it's only then she stalks forward, grabbing his wrist and forcing his hand to the back of her neck - where they both know she has a port.

"Tell me I don't understand, Hitori."

She releases him and tilts her head, so he can see the dark wire she unspools from the back of her neck.

"Tell me." She pulls and pulls and pulls until it's tangled in her fingers and her head starts to pull to follow where the wire leads.

"Tell me I don't think enough or could never understand or because I've never been married or given birth that I don't know how bad you hurt right now."

She forces her fist forward, the wire fraying as she forces the snarled wire in the line of vision between them. Tears run as the static prickles on her fingers, but she will not bow to this. It is insane and it makes her feel soulless, but they have to keep going.

"Say it and leave me alone. Or admit that past all the hurt and insanity that these morons with the control switches keep giving us, the truth is still there."

There is the sudden burn of regret past the words that he let slip, as he breathes hard to come down, but there is something wrong. More wrong than the echo of Mariko in the background, the one in front of him is wrong. His words were supposed to hurt, but it was the wrong ones that did it.

His hand tightens on his chest. She didn't react. She knew. She knows what he doesn't. The one question that Togusa never ever wants the answer to, and she is holding on to it.

The shock of that realization is only compounded by what comes next. She's right, he doesn't know more, he knows absolutely nothing. His hand goes to the back of her neck, and he didn't know. His eyes widen in horror and comprehension as he can put it together, though. He needs that piece of metal to connect, what if someone else doesn't.

A woman like Mariko in a world like the other Togusa's, wouldn't it just make more sense to integrate? To literally become the job? To turn into exactly what Togusa fears. The tears start to run at the corners of his eyes. Not for Hikari, not for Gentiana, but for her. That stark realization behind her words of the lost humanity that is in Mariko's future.

"...Which truth?" Choked out. "This one?"

Togusa's own image flickers in front of Mariko, becomes something that he saw once, inside the Retrospec building. The familiar riot gear armor appears around him, that much stays constant. But his face. The hair cuts short, the skin takes on a plastic sheen, and his eyes.

His eyes are replaced with the cyber-eyes he has seen so often on the man he still doesn't know the name of. No more tears can flow out of them.

"That's not the truth!" she snaps.

"I know that's not the truth because the first three things I remember are you briefing me, shooting someone's ankle out in mid-air and you lying in a hospital bed because someone shot you in the chest."

Mariko sighs, suddenly so tired. There's no adrenaline in a dream, no recovery - there just is and isn't. Instantly, she seems a little more real, the shadows of Magatus failing to obscure her.

"It's why we had that fight, when you were trying to catch me up about Matsuoka. You were so mad at me for not telling you I remembered you and I couldn't fucking figure out how to tell you that I nearly watched you die."

She shakes her head and meets his cybernetic gaze, making a face like she tasted something unpleasant.

"And it's not like you listen when I do tell you something! I've been telling you since I started remembering: You. Aren't. Different. There is nothing to distinguish you as I know you here and the way that my Other perceives yours."

Mariko raises her hands, like she's trying to decide if she's going to choke him or rub her temples before clenching her fists and not quite managing to breathe. Her fingers move normally this time, but it doesn't stop her from looking like she's ready to deck him.

"This is the first time I've ever seen you look like that." She starts counting off fingers. "Not the briefing you gave me, not the time you were in the hospital bed. You didn't look any different while we sat on the back of those Tachikoma things talking about what we were about to get ourselves into. I dreamt of a geisha house raid and even in tactical armor and hearing you in my fucking head: YOU. AREN'T. ANY. DIFFERENT! So maybe you look like that because you're afraid of what they could do to you and not what they're showing us!"

She's crying again - because all of this is things that she just moved to the side, away from the place in her heart where she feels about anything. Fish swim, grass grow, this is a thing that's happening to us.

This is happening to us.

"I believe them because I see you. I believe they're trying to fix something because you're you no matter how I keep seeing you."

She laughs, quick and astonished, wiping her eyes.

"Togusa, these people fuck up colors and taste and literal physical monuments, but they aren't taking this life I am living away. I'm just getting one I used to have. I'm your friend, Togusa - kinda literally no matter what. I've got two lifetimes worth of confidence on this one..

You don't turn out like that."

Edited 2018-08-30 19:14 (UTC)

Mariko's words might as well be blows, the sharpness of them cuts Togusa straight down to the bone. Bone, not metal, flesh, not wiring. The astonishment can be seen even on the less expressive cybernetic face.

Fear over what they could be showing him has clouded his perspective on what Retrospec is showing him. So what does he see when he steps back and sees the forest, not just the trees?

The images flash by, seen only to him, like a puzzle piece slotting itself into place. A voice, just like Mariko's, a face, so similar to hers in intensity and manner. The image neatly weaves itself into already-remembered moments, like Togusa just had to focus on it in the right manner to spot her.

"..Mariko."

The illusion of the cybernetic outcome shatters, broken irreparably by the truth that Mariko is speaking out into his mind. It leaves Togusa standing there, not in riot gear or in uniform, but just himself. He can only stand and gasp for breath for a few moments.

The relative silence is broken by more footsteps. Silently, six more figures have appeared between the trees, and they move to stand on either side of the Shadow of Mariko. Bouma. Ishikawa. Pazu. Saito. Aramaki. And the one who still has no name, lingering closest to her.

Togusa has the whole picture now. Mariko has been there the whole time.

"...No matter what." Togusa weakly echoes.

Togusa belatedly notices that he is shaking so badly that he nearly collapses forwards, reaching out a hand to the real Mariko.

Mariko bypasses the hand entirely, clinging to Togusa because she's never been afraid to lose Togusa to the field. She knows that either of them could catch a bullet, be on the wrong end of a grisly case - but this has come too close to what her greatest fear for Hitori. His mind goes, like a shot and it makes him brilliant - but sometimes he chases ghosts that she can't follow and no matter what she does, he will never hear her.

"I've got you, you idiot."

The hug is crushing and she just stays there for a moment. Mariko closes her eyes, blocking all the images and sound in this world his mind has made because she thinks maybe, that she can feel his heartbeat. She hopes that he can feel hers.

Unfortunately, Mariko only has room for one bit of unsullied sentimentality and she knows that it's not for Togusa. So she shifts, forcing his head under her arm before palming his head and ruining his hair beyond all reason. It's extremely childish, sure, but it's the first thing makes her feel like herself in months.

She releases him with a laugh, after a suitable amount of protest before sighing. They're going to wake up and Hikari's still going to be gone. That's the shitty part of all of this.

"Hey. If you need somewhere to not be okay, my door's always open."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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whoops hope you like text.

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