[Junpei remembers everything. Every timeline, every death, poison and machine guns and carbon monoxide and--maybe a couple he doesn't actually remember, because he was killed in his sleep and what the hell, Mira, Jesus.
He remembers Carlos and Akane and the rules of the game, of egging Carlos on to kill the others because humans are shit anyway and the shock of the timelines where Carlos did. The uncomprehending hurt when Carlos betrayed him the one time, the hard-shut feeling when he did the same. (For Akane, he tried to tell himself then; truth, he knows now, but not the whole truth.)
He remembers losing. He remembers winning. And in all of it, one fragment--one brief, misplaced, happy-unhappy moment--shines. Catches the dim light in a way that brings past and present together.
'That way of thinking is completely wrong,' she said, tears glittering in her eyes, jewel-like. 'Being the sole survivor does not make me happy.'
Shame. Adrenaline cooling to something shaky and nervous. Was he wrong?
'There's no point in living once you lose the one you care about the most.'
No, Akane, he thinks, arms tightening around Yuuri and eyes opening to the soft greenness of the rest area. That way of thinking is completely wrong. He realizes now that, in every timeline she engineered for him, he was always the one who lost her, always the one left behind. She never had to be the one to contemplate a history where he didn't exist. Never for long. Not until Delta's Decision Game.
If you lose the ones you care about the most--the life you thought you'd have--you look around you and you care harder.]
no subject
He remembers Carlos and Akane and the rules of the game, of egging Carlos on to kill the others because humans are shit anyway and the shock of the timelines where Carlos did. The uncomprehending hurt when Carlos betrayed him the one time, the hard-shut feeling when he did the same. (For Akane, he tried to tell himself then; truth, he knows now, but not the whole truth.)
He remembers losing. He remembers winning. And in all of it, one fragment--one brief, misplaced, happy-unhappy moment--shines. Catches the dim light in a way that brings past and present together.
'That way of thinking is completely wrong,' she said, tears glittering in her eyes, jewel-like. 'Being the sole survivor does not make me happy.'
Shame. Adrenaline cooling to something shaky and nervous. Was he wrong?
'There's no point in living once you lose the one you care about the most.'
No, Akane, he thinks, arms tightening around Yuuri and eyes opening to the soft greenness of the rest area. That way of thinking is completely wrong. He realizes now that, in every timeline she engineered for him, he was always the one who lost her, always the one left behind. She never had to be the one to contemplate a history where he didn't exist. Never for long. Not until Delta's Decision Game.
If you lose the ones you care about the most--the life you thought you'd have--you look around you and you care harder.]