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“You can be saved too, you know?”
Those were the first coherent words Mikoto heard that would make it clear why Fuuta was visiting him in the first place. While the brunette with fading bleached tips had thrown himself into the barred isolation of his cell, he constantly tried to overhear conversations that went about from ear to ear in the panopticon. He put his ear to the wall with a cup and heard the gunshots of insults towards him.
‘Kayano’s a bit unstable, isn't he? I heard he gets violent at night.’
‘It's probably better that he's caged up for the sake of everyone's safety.’
‘It's best to stay far away from him.’
‘He was really able to fight Kotoko? Wow... Scary...’
And then he faces away, swallowing every emotion he felt until he felt sick to his stomach with bubbling sensations of guilt, and a loss of sense of self. Even without hearing all of that, he knew everyone was scared of him. He even based a whole routine off of the fact he didn't want to be seen anymore because he could never bear the hues of judgemental eyes when he hadn't done any of that. At least, he didn't remember it.
Blue eyes blink and Mikoto gives a nervous rub of the back of his head and a placed smile before opening his mouth. “I don't get what you mean. I don't need saving,” He's an adult, he thinks to himself. He doesn't need some fake guardian angel when he's lasted this long. He's never benefited from making others worry about him, so he's content with being silent.
“Oh don't give me that fake shit you always put up,” The redhead crosses his arms. “You're broken, aren't you? You told me once you were anxious about something; about being wrong about something. From the looks of it, they were only confirmed. I couldn't help then, but I understand it now. I have a solution now. You can come with me. I can save you.”
“Haah. How do I even respond to that?” Something disturbs Mikoto about what Fuuta was saying. The redhead was really beginning to concern him more. Not only was this some huge change of heart he was having, it was also such weird words being proposed to him. “I’m fine as I am. If I wasn’t, I would’ve asked for help a long time ago.” He keeps trying to turn his gaze away from the other, but he feels compelled to keep staring or else it would seem out of character and give his true emotions away.
“You’d be an idiot to refuse. You’re seriously fine still giving yourself away like this?” His eyebrow raises, portraying a skeptical look on his face. “How long are you going to just give yourself away? Until you’re nothing?”
“I’ve heard what everyone else has said... They don’t want me around, you know,” Mikoto replies, not giving any straightforward answers whatsoever. He knows if the other even catches a glimpse, then he would dive straight in and try to draw out everything he can. Prisoner 09 knows he’s undesirable now no matter what, but it was almost like he was programmed to keep pretending even with a shattered mask. He wills himself to glance down at the ground to see if Fuuta notices those broken shards that resembled the personality he had crafted since childhood and carried with him as an adult. He wishes he didn’t have to look at it and come to terms he really was just digging a bigger grave for himself, maybe to fit those “other hims” as well. He is after all not even one whole person, and he doesn’t want to face those facts. Maybe once he is gone, even if he does not fully want to disappear, he can finally hear a goodbye from the other him, John.
When Mikoto lifts his heavy gaze back to the other, there he was still looking at him like he was trying to see right through him. The brunette with fading bleached tips wasn’t taking much of a liking to it, but he decided not to comment his dislike, because it would be improper to do so. And it, in his opinion, would prove he’s no better than the person Fuuta used to be.
“You’re staring an awful lot,” the taller of the two speaks up once more, breaking the unlimited weight of silence.
“And? You do it all the time. Or are you not allowed to be a hypocrite?” There’s a small pause with no answer. The shorter sighs. “Well, my offer still stands. You don’t have to bear all that weight anymore. I can save you too.” He reaches a slow hand out to him, and Mikoto suddenly feels like his own breath is choking him. While many thoughts race through his mind, none seem like the right one. The slow tick of a clock plays in his head, and he’s sure it isn’t real. Everything was just simply a deep, swirling darkness of thought that he couldn’t quite grasp. If he does reach out and take that hand reaching out to him, what would even happen next? It was the only thing that was still clear in his vision; a temptation of some sorts.
He flicks his gaze back to Fuuta. Instead of being met with that judgement he had familiarized himself with, he was simply met with an almost exact mirror image of himself, staring at him with a frown on his face.
“Huh?” He echoes, but the other him doesn't open his mouth.
“I can save you from all of these burdens, Mikoto.” The other’s voice is deeper than his own. He recognizes this. Even if it's someone who looked like him, there were the changes in personality and his overall demeanor that strikes him as odd. The brunette can’t get himself to say anything. The figure steps closer, hand still stretched out towards him, beckoning to listen to his call. His cold fingertips brush along his cheek, and he feels paralyzed to do anything else.
“Why can’t you just recognize me as your savior?” The darkness of his mind whispers. It’s not a criticizing whisper. Instead, it’s soft and carries some emotion that Mikoto wouldn’t believe to come from the other him. Maybe this was just his own inner hope that the one who also exists within him wasn’t really all that bad.
He opens his mouth to say something─ anything, but there’s no words that fully form enough to create even a gasp for breath.
“... I don't know,” He exhales and that dark mist that shrouded him dispels, leaving Mikoto in the same, dark cell that he was sure he would be stuck in for a long while unless his friends were able to accept him again. “I don't know anything anymore.” He ends his thought, holding both hands to his head, which feels like it's splitting in two.
Fuuta takes a careful step forward, almost a bit wary in case the other suddenly gets violent. “That's why you need help, right? You can be relieved of this pain.”
“You're just like him, aren't you? Why am I seeing him?” He takes deep breaths in to stabilize himself.
“Haah? Seein’ who?” The redhead responds, eyebrows raised in confusion.
“Nothing. Nobody,” Mikoto shakes his head and takes a step back. “Nobody you need to be concerning yourself with, haha.”
“...” Fuuta pauses, and then his eye twitches in frustration. When he opens his mouth though, he restrains some sort of insult from forming. “You're so close to actually opening up, and then you just don't.”
“Hahaha. Sorry. Natural response.”
“I'm not sure what you find so funny either, or is that also some “natural response” of yours?” He probes at the other to get some more answers.
“I guess? I just find it easier to deal with pain that way.” He shrugs. “It's not abnormal, right?”
“... You deal with pain by laughing?”
“Yeah. No big deal.”
“That's insane,” That's Fuuta’s conclusion. “And not right at all. You can trust me, right? You've trusted me before.”
Mikoto considers his options, which aren't that many, but he supposes it wouldn't hurt because it would stop the other's nagging. “Well, it's about another me─ the one everyone warns you about that comes out when I sleep.”
“... Haah?”
His confused, almost startled noise is enough Mikoto needs for an answer. “I told you. Sounds crazy, doesn't it? But it's true.” He takes a small pause to let more breath out that he'd been unaware he was holding, but then he smiles amidst it all. “Hah, I don't know... I've been trying to talk to him, and the one point of communication I had was him saying his intentions. He said he wanted to save me too─ to see him as my savior. That's why...” He raises his hand, and points a weak finger towards Fuuta. “I believe you're acting an awful lot like him.”
“Hmm...” The redhead can't fully wrap his head around it if he had to be honest, but from the brunette’s tone, he was serious; the best he could do was be understanding. “I may not entirely get it, but maybe if there's more than one person who can recognize you're in trouble, you should see it yourself.”
“In trouble?” He lets out another laugh. “Well, if I am, then I'll get out of it eventually. I'm pretty good at making things go my way, so you don't need to worry about me.”
“You're fucking weird, you know that? You're so optimistic, even when it's out of place. It's like you don't want to even admit you can be sad. I mean, just look at you! Your uniform’s all torn up, your hair’s in a mess, there's horrible bags under your eyes, and yet you're still smiling! You're not someone who's invincible. One day, those defenses will crumble and someone has to be there to help you.”
“I always told you that fiery tone of yours wouldn't make you popular,” Instead of focusing on any of the points Fuuta made, Mikoto makes another joke with a placed smile. “But, I guess that's truly what separates us. I wonder if that other me thinks the same way as you. I wonder if by killing someone, he thought that he was some hero saving me. Do you want to be my hero too, Kaji?” He asks the question in a voice akin to the softness of a fluffy blanket, the warmth of a summer day, and the sweetness of melted sugar. It makes Fuuta understand the other’s conscious mind just a bit more. He's doing it to appeal to him, trying to reach inside of his beating heart to find a way to fool him the same way he fools everyone else.
“Kaji? Why the sudden change of heart about not giving me a nickname?” His eyebrow raises. He refuses to be stuck on that question right now.
“A magician never reveals his secrets~ Everyone knows that. I just think it's a lot more important that I do it now.”
“Gh... It's not like I mind it or anything. It's probably better than whatever most people could come up with,” Fuuta’s eye rolls subtly, just to end up looking away from the taller of the two.
“You definitely would've minded it before,” Mikoto whispers a small reminder of the past. Fuuta ignores that.
“And what if I did want to be your hero? Does that mean you would accept my offer from before?” The shorter’s expression softens as he inquires. “Even if you're just acting, I think I understand you the most now than I ever did before.”
Something in Mikoto’s expression stirs before he gives his response, putting back on that smiling, breaking mask. “I guess─ if you're able to recognize what I'm doing, then I'd have to give you a round of applause.”
“I don't want your praise.”
“Right right,” He clears his throat. “Out of anyone really, I would've expected you to have done it. That's what I mean.” The brunette fidgets with his fingers while speaking. “Hypothetically, if I do accept, do you think I could also learn more about him?”
“We can do anything, alright? Just leave it to me.” Fuuta extends his hand once more, and Mikoto imagines he's taking a hand that looks exactly like his own, staring into those blue, tired eyes that wanted to save him just like the greenish eye that was swirling with its own mix of relief and happiness.
“Okay, I trust you,” are the words Mikoto says, but at the same time, he mouths the words: “I'd love to get to know you more.”