[ We haven’t made any progress with video analysis.
Hey. Enomoto, you look - ….. shit.
Enomoto, have you slept? Eaten? It’s been days, man, just—
Give it up, Enomoto, those guys are probably already dead.
If it’s really Adonis, then we’re probably too late.
Their words echo through your ears as you approach an abandoned warehouse. You hear the apathy in their voices, the mocking. They’ve already given up on ever finding their missing comrades. But you don’t listen. You don’t eat, you don’t sleep, you don’t stop looking until -
Until the smell of blood hits you as soon as you throw open the door.
The room spills out in front of you. Slumped against the wall, there is one man.
The one you’ve been looking for.
You barely recall protocol - you call your superior, you give an address and nothing more - and you approach the man you admired. Yuuta Fuji. Your idol left to rot in the outskirts of Shinjuku five days after he was killed on video.
You’ve never felt hatred like this before. You’ve never wanted someone dead before. The job is dangerous and sometimes people get hurt but you’ve always been willing to be the person to put your neck on the line for somebody else, even a stranger.
Right now, face to face with the bloody corpse of someone you treasured, all you want is to hurt somebody else the way that you’re hurting now. To take their greatest source of admiration and shoot it down.
A voice (25:18 - 26:14) cuts through after you’ve been standing there for who knows how long. He gives you orders. You know you have to follow them. Set up a perimeter, gather evidence, solve the case like you’ve solved so many before. This is your job.
But as one tear rolls down your cheek without permission, you know something else -
[ well. this week certainly sucks, yuri can't say anything else about it. imagine not even being able to control what something or someone else to throwing out into the world, about you no less. ]
Not sure what you're apologising for.
[ yuri has seen death. plenty of death, and plenty of loss. it's never easy.
whether it's someone he only just met, or whether or was someone who mattered deeply to him - if they were his, and shared his dreams and hopes as most of his team did, then the concept of losing them is a heavy weight to bear regardless.
he doesn't know mineo's circumstances - what makes him falter, what drives him. but he knows loss when he sees it, and he knows deep loss when he sees it too.
he won't even get the chance to pretend otherwise (7:23 to 9:21), as this place is unforgiving with what memories it claws out of a person and lays bare on the ground in front of them. it could be worse though, and that's the only comfort he has at the thought of his private thoughts being aired like this.
loss and how to cope with it. two interconnected concepts, with no clear or correct answer. maybe a person would prefer to lash out, with the same sort of deep-rooted anger he felt in mineo's memory? or maybe a person keeps moving, but carrying the memories of the dead on their shoulders, in names, fading faces and memories of conversations long passed by.
he wonders, sometimes, which would be healthier. ]
that's the thing about war. about their different time periods. about all these different contexts and situations that mineo isn't sure that he can always wrap his head around. yuri keeps the names of people he's lost in a book and - and mineo can't be sure if he'd be able to keep going if he lost even more than one. isn't that pathetic?
he looks away for a moment before looking back.]
... yeah. He... He was my inspiration, among... other things.
[ . . . ]
I'm sorry - to intrude on your thoughts, Leclerc-san and.... for not realizing the weight you carry.
[that all of them do - but mineo can't help but feel like.... yuri has so much more than he expected]
[ ... he can almost see the way mineo's head is ticking. or he could take a guess. but he just waves a hand. ]
Loss is loss. Doesn't matter how many or who many, it's a weight nonetheless.
[ his friends, or just people who'd joined his group. people he knew the names and lives of, versus people who he only knew in passing. they're all still important.
but... well. losing someone who inspired you? he can imagine that's hard. ]
It's not like any of us really have a choice in this. If you want to be technical, I barged into your memories first.
[ . . . . he turns that over in his head for a second, but.]
.... I think I can be pretty open, after a while. I could've told you myself, I guess. [even if he's a lot more untrusting than people realize - in part because of that memory. he just can't say for sure that yuri would've trusted him with the same]
It's just another cruelty of this place to take that choice from us, I guess.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
week 1, monday [1/3]
so of course as he goes to a different room that means that he sees somebody - yuri, in fact]
Oh -
no subject
Hey. Enomoto, you look - ….. shit.
Enomoto, have you slept? Eaten? It’s been days, man, just—
Give it up, Enomoto, those guys are probably already dead.
If it’s really Adonis, then we’re probably too late.
Their words echo through your ears as you approach an abandoned warehouse. You hear the apathy in their voices, the mocking. They’ve already given up on ever finding their missing comrades. But you don’t listen. You don’t eat, you don’t sleep, you don’t stop looking until -
Until the smell of blood hits you as soon as you throw open the door.
The room spills out in front of you. Slumped against the wall, there is one man.
The one you’ve been looking for.
You barely recall protocol - you call your superior, you give an address and nothing more - and you approach the man you admired. Yuuta Fuji. Your idol left to rot in the outskirts of Shinjuku five days after he was killed on video.
You’ve never felt hatred like this before. You’ve never wanted someone dead before. The job is dangerous and sometimes people get hurt but you’ve always been willing to be the person to put your neck on the line for somebody else, even a stranger.
Right now, face to face with the bloody corpse of someone you treasured, all you want is to hurt somebody else the way that you’re hurting now. To take their greatest source of admiration and shoot it down.
A voice (25:18 - 26:14) cuts through after you’ve been standing there for who knows how long. He gives you orders. You know you have to follow them. Set up a perimeter, gather evidence, solve the case like you’ve solved so many before. This is your job.
But as one tear rolls down your cheek without permission, you know something else -
This is personal. ]
no subject
... fuck. Sorry.
no subject
[ well. this week certainly sucks, yuri can't say anything else about it. imagine not even being able to control what something or someone else to throwing out into the world, about you no less. ]
Not sure what you're apologising for.
[ yuri has seen death. plenty of death, and plenty of loss. it's never easy.
whether it's someone he only just met, or whether or was someone who mattered deeply to him - if they were his, and shared his dreams and hopes as most of his team did, then the concept of losing them is a heavy weight to bear regardless.
he doesn't know mineo's circumstances - what makes him falter, what drives him. but he knows loss when he sees it, and he knows deep loss when he sees it too.
he won't even get the chance to pretend otherwise (7:23 to 9:21), as this place is unforgiving with what memories it claws out of a person and lays bare on the ground in front of them. it could be worse though, and that's the only comfort he has at the thought of his private thoughts being aired like this.
loss and how to cope with it. two interconnected concepts, with no clear or correct answer. maybe a person would prefer to lash out, with the same sort of deep-rooted anger he felt in mineo's memory? or maybe a person keeps moving, but carrying the memories of the dead on their shoulders, in names, fading faces and memories of conversations long passed by.
he wonders, sometimes, which would be healthier. ]
... That was someone important to you, I take it.
no subject
and that's the thing -
that's the thing about war. about their different time periods. about all these different contexts and situations that mineo isn't sure that he can always wrap his head around. yuri keeps the names of people he's lost in a book and - and mineo can't be sure if he'd be able to keep going if he lost even more than one. isn't that pathetic?
he looks away for a moment before looking back.]
... yeah. He... He was my inspiration, among... other things.
[ . . . ]
I'm sorry - to intrude on your thoughts, Leclerc-san and.... for not realizing the weight you carry.
[that all of them do - but mineo can't help but feel like.... yuri has so much more than he expected]
no subject
Loss is loss. Doesn't matter how many or who many, it's a weight nonetheless.
[ his friends, or just people who'd joined his group. people he knew the names and lives of, versus people who he only knew in passing. they're all still important.
but... well. losing someone who inspired you? he can imagine that's hard. ]
It's not like any of us really have a choice in this. If you want to be technical, I barged into your memories first.
no subject
.... I think I can be pretty open, after a while. I could've told you myself, I guess. [even if he's a lot more untrusting than people realize - in part because of that memory. he just can't say for sure that yuri would've trusted him with the same]
It's just another cruelty of this place to take that choice from us, I guess.
no subject
It's taken from you, so who can say if you would or wouldn't.
[ who knows if yuri would or would not have. they can't find out now, that chance has gone. ]
no subject
Well... we know what we know now, right? We've ended up finding out more about each other one way or another.
... do you want me to forget what I saw? Only seems polite to ask.
no subject
[ ... ]
It's fine. Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies.