[There is a certain amount of seriousness to Akira sitting across from her instead of next to her, too; Futaba's at least aware enough of social cues to pick up on that. He's usually next to her, so the fact that he's meeting her eyes like this instead...
She frowns a little.
Naturally, it's not hard for her to put together the pieces. Her knowledge of cognition on top of her general video game savvy means this all comes together a little...well, too quickly.]
It was a game of Mafia. [Yeah.] A cognizant game of Mafia where everyone was sharing a collective experience... hence a "dream" of some sort. I guess the win conditions were probably similar? Villagers versus Mafia... if the Villagers caught all of the Mafia, they won?
[Somehow, it's a little easier to talk about this...as if it didn't happen to Akira, which she's still trying to parse slowly but surely, though it probably won't be able to stay distant for long.]
Well, yeah...usually the Mafia's win condition is more brutal... like killing more people than their numbers, or something like that.
[Clearly!! Obviously!!
... Her expression falters a little, though, when Magilou explicitly spells out again that they were both in that situation.]
... That's not funny though. [Not!! Funny!!] Murder games are too cliche. What were they thinking? My key item's got better things to do than deal with things like that.
[... No, she's just really, really worried about that--Akira in a real mafia game sounds terrible.]
[she comments with a small shrug, as she lifts her coffee to her mouth for a sip]
I don't really know what the purpose of that game was, beyond "entertainment." But the universes are filled with all sorts. . . and there will always be someone who makes a living by drinking in tears of despair.
[...When it's said flat out, she can't hide behind pretending anymore. Akira went through this. He went through some sort of twisted murdergame... all of the sake of someone else's amusement.
Her expression pinches, and then settles into quiet distress.]
[sorry, futaba. this is, unfortunately, a truth they have to face; even if akira would like to forget so much of it? it's very real to him.
akira nods his head, a bit solemn. making futaba worry and causing her distress honestly does pain him a bit, but this is still something she deserves to know, isn't it?]
We did... narrowly.
[what part of this story will be the worst to tell futaba? we just don't know.]
[Look, this is...hard for anyone to process, but especially Futaba. She's scrunching up a little in the booth seat, wrapping her arms around her legs as she does, brow furrowing a little.]
B-but that's...
[Thirty deaths? That's beyond cutting it close--even just from the logistics of the game, she knows that that had to be pretty close to the Mafia's goal either way.
But even beyond that analytical part of her...there's the fact that that's just plain horrifying.
The Mafia... Sirens, they were called, and the Villagers—there was more to the game than that.
[akira notes that quietly. every time futaba seems distressed, he wants to back down and stop telling this.
he's going to hurt her. he betrayed enough people with what happened, but futaba is his family, and hurting her, betraying her—
he draws in a deep, quiet breath. magilou is here, and she'll stand by him. she'll help, in her way—but he's still a bit terrified himself to really let futaba know how much worse this story gets.]
[stealthily, hidden from Futaba's view underneath the table, Magilou hooks two fingers into the hem of Akira's shirt and tugs lightly. it's not much, but she can't very well grab his hand out in the open (she can, she's just weird), so this is the next best thing]
[she stays quiet. the next part isn't her story to tell, after all.]
[She knows, of course, that there are other roles to Mafia, or it'd just be a flat out slaughterfest. It's supposed to be a strategy game of some sort--at least, with the doctor, and the detective, and all of those roles, it is.
She suspects, if it was set up this carefully, there were roles like that too, but--
But even for Futaba, it's hard to think logically at a time like this, when all that keeps cycling through her head is "thirty deaths", and that Akira was there, and--]
But... you're still here, so... [...] So you didn't die. [... Right? That's... that's what matters here, even though it's horribly, deplorably selfish. But between thirty some odd strangers dying or Akira dying...she knows where her initial concerns lie.]
this is already so, so much harder than he could have anticipated. under the table, akira reaches for magilou's hand, squeezing it tightly. he's grateful, so, so grateful that she's here.
he's not sure he'd be able to tell this story alone.]
When the last Siren was executed, the game ended. A win, and the conditions meant that everyone who "died" were given their lives back. It was a game within a dream, so... things like that were possible.
[...]
Maybe we should start closer to the beginning, though. [casually avoiding telling her about the part where magilou executed him. yet. they'll get to that, but he needs futaba to understand how those choices were his own—he doesn't want magilou to shoulder the blame when she did nothing but try to protect him at the end, after all.]
[her return grip is snug, but not too tight, her own fingers threaded with his own. nice way to artfully dodge the question, Kurusu, but hey. she won't be the one to press him to answer it honestly]
. . . which beginning? We explained the island, the number of people there, the dream, the rules of the game, the fact that we won. . .
[... Yeah this isn't making her feel any better about anything, but she just frowns a little.]
I think I already know the rules. The Mafia--Sirens, in this case--would win if they managed to kill more people than there were Mafia members, and the Villagers' win condition would be taking out all of the Sirens. There might've been other win conditions, but those were probably the two main ones. Obviously, you ended up taking the route of the Villagers finding and killing all of the Sirens.
[She's not here for role and mechanics talks, she's here to figure out why Akira looks so sad, dammit!!]
There might've been other roles--that's what usually makes the game more tactical.
Closer to the beginning. We started talking about the end without... some of the important parts.
[like the other roles. how they operated, and how they got people to play along.]
I don't really know the other roles by the names you would, Futaba, but we can explain some of them. I think we need to cover some of those bases before we tell you exactly what we experienced, and how Magilou can even be here right now.
[it'll be important.]
Aside from the Sirens, there were the Wickies, who knew every means to end the game and were meant to seek out the Sirens. There was also the Nymph, who could help or hurt our cause with items.
[hey, guess who isn't jumping at the chance to talk about the hangmen! it's akira. and he really knew next to nothing about the waylayer, so.
[he's still dodging the subject, and Magilou wonders how long he can get away with it before Futaba notices. also plz, she isn't about to bring up the Hangmen, either. but she can talk more about the Wickie and the Waylayer!]
The Wickies could "check" people to see if they had a role or not too, but their primary purpose was eliminating the Sirens and guiding us all home.
In addition to the Nymph, there was the Waylayer, who-- well.
[okay backing up a bit]
Everyone on the island had a partner, you know? If you died, your partner died, and vice versa. The Waylayer could "break" one partnership per week, so if one member of that partnership died, the other half would be spared.
The poor sap in that role never really managed to put that ability to good use, though.
[poor Prussia. breaking partnerships each week, but only the ones consisting of people who weren't being targeted]
[Yeah, she definitely notices, because she doesn't actually give a flying fuck about any of the roles.]
Okay, so a detective, an item role and a partner break role? That's weird but not that out there, I get it, I don't really need a play-by-play here of the rules.
[More importantly--and almost plaintively:]
Akira? You're starting to worry me. [He hasn't said a single thing about himself here.]
[you know, magilou. you could have made this like. .0001% easier for him by at least saying the name of the role.
he frowns; futaba has every right to worry here—he doesn't talk about himself very much normally, but he's rarely ever evasive.
so in he draws a breath, closing his eyes.]
There was another role, known as the Hangman. They worked under the... "game masters" directly, following their direct order to remove anyone from the game that didn't play to their liking. They were the only role, too, that could carry out a kill themselves without sacrificing the victim's partner.
[ugh.
ugh.
ugh.
this is why futaba has reason to worry.]
There were two Hangmen. And... I was one of them. [and he can't even look at futaba to see how she reacts, because having to even tell her that, when knowing she will immediately understand what it means for what he's done and how he's broken their creeds is...
a big deal. especially with what futaba's been through in her past.]
[she didn't know how much he wanted to say himself!! she ain't gonna tell his story for him]
[. . . also, he'll feel the faint brush of Magilou's thumb against his knuckles, too. but she doesn't have anything to say, so. . . she stays quiet, watching the both of them with an even, seemingly unfeeling expression. this part is between Akira and Futaba]
For a second, it doesn't even feel like the words are real. This entire situation... it has to be a joke, right? Because Akira's sitting here next to some weird lady that looks like she's wearing cosplay for a cheap 90's game, saying that he participated in some weird dream Mafia session--
And.
That he was.
One of the killers.
Her breath hitches and then hiccups a little, but the only words she can really breathe out are a soft and somewhat ragged:]
[and just like that, he can feel his heart sinking directly into his stomach. he knew it. he knew that telling the phantom thieves would be painful. he knew that he was risking having them turn their back on him the same way many of the people in that game had when they learned the truth about the things he'd done.
but there's no denying that it cuts through his heart even harder than magilou's knife had when she killed him.
he can't even look at futaba; he hadn't been able to as soon as he really started talking, but hearing that reaction, that disbelief—it's too much.
his head dips low, shame obvious in a way that would never have been fiting for the cocky, confident joker before. but of course there's shame—even if it was a "game," he had betrayed people's trust. he hurt them, he killed people with his own hands. a dream that felt real, a dream that truly left him having bad blood with people in a warranted way.]
They—They would have... They did—
[okay, so he's struggling to get the words out here. it's a strange sense of panic that rises in his chest, because he's used to being the one to keep futaba calm, and he can't when he's the one causing her to react this way.
he squeezes magilou's hand tightly enough to a silent indicator. please. please explain the conditions they put over his head, even if briefly so he can try to get himself in order here.]
[she picks up right where he left off, a smooth transition with little hesitation. she doesn't even need him to squeeze her hand to know what she has to do]
. . . go easy on him. Technically I killed more people than he did, and I didn't even have a role.
[THAT'S. . . probably not the best impression to make with?? one of his friends?? especially when she says it so easily, like she's completely detached from the situation. and especially when she doesn't offer an explanation for her own actions. Akira had five weeks to come to understand how she deals with things, but poor Futaba? totally new at speaking Magilou]
You have a friend named Haru Okumura, right? She was there, too. Maybe not the same one in this world and timeline--
[Akira had mentioned to her that the Haru here hadn't remembered much of anything form the island, after all]
Her life, her safety. That's what they threatened to take from her should he not cooperate.
People. . . will do a lot, even willingly break themselves into pieces, in order to protect those they love. Right?
[Yeah that's not 100% helping there Magilou, could you slow your roll a bit--
That is.
Futaba's brain is...a little too quick even for her at moments like this. She doesn't want to process it. She doesn't want to understand, not yet, not immediately--but she does.
She has a brain for finding connections, after all. For analyzing information. And she can tell--
Premise: Akira had a role. It was a role that was intended to kill people not participating properly in the game.
Premise: They were holding Haru hostage to ensure that Akira did what they wanted.
Conclusion: Akira...killed people. To protect Haru.
That's...
She clutches her head, breathing unsteady, eyes narrowed. In truth? She's never been about the lofty ideals of the Phantom Thieves. Of all of them, she knows she's the most selfish--she only cares about them, and about finding her mother's murderer.
But to think that Akira--her sweet older brother figure, the only who always lifts them up when they're down, the one who was so certain of the Phantom Thieves' form of Justice and who would never back down from that... to think that he'd kill people--
It feels a bit like an important cornerstone to her stability is crumbling a bit, and she needs a second to handle it. Sorry friends.]
W-wait... I-- [...She doesn't know what to do with this information at all.]
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She frowns a little.
Naturally, it's not hard for her to put together the pieces. Her knowledge of cognition on top of her general video game savvy means this all comes together a little...well, too quickly.]
It was a game of Mafia. [Yeah.] A cognizant game of Mafia where everyone was sharing a collective experience... hence a "dream" of some sort. I guess the win conditions were probably similar? Villagers versus Mafia... if the Villagers caught all of the Mafia, they won?
[Somehow, it's a little easier to talk about this...as if it didn't happen to Akira, which she's still trying to parse slowly but surely, though it probably won't be able to stay distant for long.]
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yeah.]
With different names, and slightly different purposes. But yeah, it's mostly like that.
[that's definitely the gist of it, at least. he can't even be surprised that futaba picks up on it so quickly.]
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[more terminology she doesn't get 8((( but the explanation still sounds right]
Well, I guess if you're using those weird terms. . . in the end, the "Villagers" won by killing off the "Mafia."
And that's why we're both still alive and sitting here today.
[she doesn't want to know what might've happened had they lost]
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[Clearly!! Obviously!!
... Her expression falters a little, though, when Magilou explicitly spells out again that they were both in that situation.]
... That's not funny though. [Not!! Funny!!] Murder games are too cliche. What were they thinking? My key item's got better things to do than deal with things like that.
[... No, she's just really, really worried about that--Akira in a real mafia game sounds terrible.]
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They thought it was funny. [fuck the chiefs? fuck the chiefs.]
I don't really have an answer for that. All of us had better things to do, but we still... had to be there.
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[she comments with a small shrug, as she lifts her coffee to her mouth for a sip]
I don't really know what the purpose of that game was, beyond "entertainment." But the universes are filled with all sorts. . . and there will always be someone who makes a living by drinking in tears of despair.
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Her expression pinches, and then settles into quiet distress.]
But you...made it out. You're here.
[...Right? Everything's okay?]
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akira nods his head, a bit solemn. making futaba worry and causing her distress honestly does pain him a bit, but this is still something she deserves to know, isn't it?]
We did... narrowly.
[what part of this story will be the worst to tell futaba? we just don't know.]
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[Magilou draws one finger around the rim of her coffee cup]
But "narrowly" is still a win. Though I suppose after. . . oh, thirty or so? People have died, it doesn't feel much like one for most people.
[even if all of them are alive and well now]
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B-but that's...
[Thirty deaths? That's beyond cutting it close--even just from the logistics of the game, she knows that that had to be pretty close to the Mafia's goal either way.
But even beyond that analytical part of her...there's the fact that that's just plain horrifying.
Really?]
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[akira notes that quietly. every time futaba seems distressed, he wants to back down and stop telling this.
he's going to hurt her. he betrayed enough people with what happened, but futaba is his family, and hurting her, betraying her—
he draws in a deep, quiet breath. magilou is here, and she'll stand by him. she'll help, in her way—but he's still a bit terrified himself to really let futaba know how much worse this story gets.]
It... was a lot. For everyone.
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[she stays quiet. the next part isn't her story to tell, after all.]
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She suspects, if it was set up this carefully, there were roles like that too, but--
But even for Futaba, it's hard to think logically at a time like this, when all that keeps cycling through her head is "thirty deaths", and that Akira was there, and--]
But... you're still here, so... [...] So you didn't die. [... Right? That's... that's what matters here, even though it's horribly, deplorably selfish. But between thirty some odd strangers dying or Akira dying...she knows where her initial concerns lie.]
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this is already so, so much harder than he could have anticipated. under the table, akira reaches for magilou's hand, squeezing it tightly. he's grateful, so, so grateful that she's here.
he's not sure he'd be able to tell this story alone.]
When the last Siren was executed, the game ended. A win, and the conditions meant that everyone who "died" were given their lives back. It was a game within a dream, so... things like that were possible.
[...]
Maybe we should start closer to the beginning, though. [casually avoiding telling her about the part where magilou executed him. yet. they'll get to that, but he needs futaba to understand how those choices were his own—he doesn't want magilou to shoulder the blame when she did nothing but try to protect him at the end, after all.]
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. . . which beginning? We explained the island, the number of people there, the dream, the rules of the game, the fact that we won. . .
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I think I already know the rules. The Mafia--Sirens, in this case--would win if they managed to kill more people than there were Mafia members, and the Villagers' win condition would be taking out all of the Sirens. There might've been other win conditions, but those were probably the two main ones. Obviously, you ended up taking the route of the Villagers finding and killing all of the Sirens.
[She's not here for role and mechanics talks, she's here to figure out why Akira looks so sad, dammit!!]
There might've been other roles--that's what usually makes the game more tactical.
[So!!]
I wanna know. What happened to you, Akira?
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[like the other roles. how they operated, and how they got people to play along.]
I don't really know the other roles by the names you would, Futaba, but we can explain some of them. I think we need to cover some of those bases before we tell you exactly what we experienced, and how Magilou can even be here right now.
[it'll be important.]
Aside from the Sirens, there were the Wickies, who knew every means to end the game and were meant to seek out the Sirens. There was also the Nymph, who could help or hurt our cause with items.
[hey, guess who isn't jumping at the chance to talk about the hangmen! it's akira. and he really knew next to nothing about the waylayer, so.
go for it, mags.]
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The Wickies could "check" people to see if they had a role or not too, but their primary purpose was eliminating the Sirens and guiding us all home.
In addition to the Nymph, there was the Waylayer, who-- well.
[okay backing up a bit]
Everyone on the island had a partner, you know? If you died, your partner died, and vice versa. The Waylayer could "break" one partnership per week, so if one member of that partnership died, the other half would be spared.
The poor sap in that role never really managed to put that ability to good use, though.
[poor Prussia. breaking partnerships each week, but only the ones consisting of people who weren't being targeted]
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Okay, so a detective, an item role and a partner break role? That's weird but not that out there, I get it, I don't really need a play-by-play here of the rules.
[More importantly--and almost plaintively:]
Akira? You're starting to worry me. [He hasn't said a single thing about himself here.]
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he frowns; futaba has every right to worry here—he doesn't talk about himself very much normally, but he's rarely ever evasive.
so in he draws a breath, closing his eyes.]
There was another role, known as the Hangman. They worked under the... "game masters" directly, following their direct order to remove anyone from the game that didn't play to their liking. They were the only role, too, that could carry out a kill themselves without sacrificing the victim's partner.
[ugh.
ugh.
ugh.
this is why futaba has reason to worry.]
There were two Hangmen. And... I was one of them. [and he can't even look at futaba to see how she reacts, because having to even tell her that, when knowing she will immediately understand what it means for what he's done and how he's broken their creeds is...
a big deal. especially with what futaba's been through in her past.]
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[. . . also, he'll feel the faint brush of Magilou's thumb against his knuckles, too. but she doesn't have anything to say, so. . . she stays quiet, watching the both of them with an even, seemingly unfeeling expression. this part is between Akira and Futaba]
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For a second, it doesn't even feel like the words are real. This entire situation... it has to be a joke, right? Because Akira's sitting here next to some weird lady that looks like she's wearing cosplay for a cheap 90's game, saying that he participated in some weird dream Mafia session--
And.
That he was.
One of the killers.
Her breath hitches and then hiccups a little, but the only words she can really breathe out are a soft and somewhat ragged:]
W-what? What are you...?
[...What are you saying?]
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but there's no denying that it cuts through his heart even harder than magilou's knife had when she killed him.
he can't even look at futaba; he hadn't been able to as soon as he really started talking, but hearing that reaction, that disbelief—it's too much.
his head dips low, shame obvious in a way that would never have been fiting for the cocky, confident joker before. but of course there's shame—even if it was a "game," he had betrayed people's trust. he hurt them, he killed people with his own hands. a dream that felt real, a dream that truly left him having bad blood with people in a warranted way.]
They—They would have... They did—
[okay, so he's struggling to get the words out here. it's a strange sense of panic that rises in his chest, because he's used to being the one to keep futaba calm, and he can't when he's the one causing her to react this way.
he squeezes magilou's hand tightly enough to a silent indicator. please. please explain the conditions they put over his head, even if briefly so he can try to get himself in order here.]
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. . . go easy on him. Technically I killed more people than he did, and I didn't even have a role.
[THAT'S. . . probably not the best impression to make with?? one of his friends?? especially when she says it so easily, like she's completely detached from the situation. and especially when she doesn't offer an explanation for her own actions. Akira had five weeks to come to understand how she deals with things, but poor Futaba? totally new at speaking Magilou]
You have a friend named Haru Okumura, right? She was there, too. Maybe not the same one in this world and timeline--
[Akira had mentioned to her that the Haru here hadn't remembered much of anything form the island, after all]
Her life, her safety. That's what they threatened to take from her should he not cooperate.
People. . . will do a lot, even willingly break themselves into pieces, in order to protect those they love. Right?
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That is.
Futaba's brain is...a little too quick even for her at moments like this. She doesn't want to process it. She doesn't want to understand, not yet, not immediately--but she does.
She has a brain for finding connections, after all. For analyzing information. And she can tell--
Premise: Akira had a role. It was a role that was intended to kill people not participating properly in the game.
Premise: They were holding Haru hostage to ensure that Akira did what they wanted.
Conclusion: Akira...killed people. To protect Haru.
That's...
She clutches her head, breathing unsteady, eyes narrowed. In truth? She's never been about the lofty ideals of the Phantom Thieves. Of all of them, she knows she's the most selfish--she only cares about them, and about finding her mother's murderer.
But to think that Akira--her sweet older brother figure, the only who always lifts them up when they're down, the one who was so certain of the Phantom Thieves' form of Justice and who would never back down from that... to think that he'd kill people--
It feels a bit like an important cornerstone to her stability is crumbling a bit, and she needs a second to handle it. Sorry friends.]
W-wait... I-- [...She doesn't know what to do with this information at all.]
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