Teru Mikami [魅上 照] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
inordertobelieve) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
badfic_manor2011-12-27 05:59 pm
inordertobelieve) wrote in badfic_manor2011-12-27 05:59 pm
Entry tags:
Teru Mikami ~24~ Absence [In Person]
[It was the worst thing. Like an out-of-body-experience, a perfidious nightmare. Teru felt sick and his legs seemed almost weak.
He was at home, but this was not his home at all. This was Kyoto, but not his Kyoto. A perfect copy.
Teru couldn't help but wonder, if this was a cruel joke the Author had decided to play on him specifically.
Today, a year ago, she'd pulled him into her world and had not once let him go home like so many others could. A year of torture in which Mikami had started to lock himself away in his soul even more, even deeper, not to be reached by anybody except God. A God who she took. Again.
Teru knew, it should not hurt. Light should not be at the Manor, he deserved better, he should not have been there in first place. But the second leave hurt even more than the first one, if it was possible. It hurt so much that he felt himself going completely numb from the pain. His own heartbeat was reduced to a faint background noise. Mikami could not feel his body anymore, as he kept walking. A ghost walking through a city of ghosts and he could not even bring himself to mind. His steps were steady, but he had nowhere to go. But as long as he kept on walking, he was still alive and functioning. Functioning was the only thing requiered to fullfil his duties. Teru did not need to be whole, he just needed to function and walk on and on.
And now he was here, in front of Kyouto's prosecution and his leg were only one go from giving in on him. It was the last place he'd reached on his walk through the city, his search for home, safety, himself. His appartement was not there... The house was, but the apartement was different and someone else lived in there, a messy NPC. There was nothing that would feel remotely like the place he had spent four years living at.
Dai Kyouto Sports Gym did not have him as a registered member in this Kyoto and his bank account had also never existed.
He was walking through the city, he lived in, like a ghost. Life in this city existed, went on and on, without him.
In this Kyouto he had never protected people, never made a difference at all. His existence was just meaningless.
But this was definitely the worst. Mikami had known it would be stupid to even go here. He knew office 4's name plate would not say 'Teru Mikami' in this place. Why he even bothered to go check was beyond him. It felt like masochistic self-torture.]
Excuse me, but who would be the prosecutor residing in office 4?
That's Takamura Ren.
Thank you...
[He turned around and walked out of the building, but once he was out he could not bring himself to leave. He turned around and stared up at the familiar building.
A year at the Manor and Teru felt like he would never be allowed to return home.
He sat down on a nearby bench, never taking his eyes of the building he'd spent most of his time in. Thoughts were spinning in his head, but he did not bother to catch and follow them. However, some were not to be avoided, they hammered against his mind, scratching the surface, leaving no room for anything else.
A year. A city without him. A world without God.
Teru's fingers dug into the fabric of his pants and his knuckles turned white. Usually he would have tried to avoid damaging his suit, but right now he wasn't really himself.
But there was nothing more to show his feelings, he could do nothing but hurt inside of his head. In a way he was locked into his own mind, caged without any chance to escape at all. Inside he could be dying again and again, but nobody would be able to tell by the way he looked on the outside.
His sanity was screaming at him, telling him to follow his schedule like he always would, but for once Teru did not feel compelled to listen. There was no schedule to follow here, it was impossible. In this Kyouto, Teru Mikami did not exist. God did not exist. He was thrown back to zero, an entire life had become meaningless. Of course, Teru knew, it was just the Author messing with worlds, but he could not feel it at all.
And he just sat there on the bench, hour after hour until the sun was going down. Just a man in a suit with broken eyes behind clean glasses.]
He was at home, but this was not his home at all. This was Kyoto, but not his Kyoto. A perfect copy.
Teru couldn't help but wonder, if this was a cruel joke the Author had decided to play on him specifically.
Today, a year ago, she'd pulled him into her world and had not once let him go home like so many others could. A year of torture in which Mikami had started to lock himself away in his soul even more, even deeper, not to be reached by anybody except God. A God who she took. Again.
Teru knew, it should not hurt. Light should not be at the Manor, he deserved better, he should not have been there in first place. But the second leave hurt even more than the first one, if it was possible. It hurt so much that he felt himself going completely numb from the pain. His own heartbeat was reduced to a faint background noise. Mikami could not feel his body anymore, as he kept walking. A ghost walking through a city of ghosts and he could not even bring himself to mind. His steps were steady, but he had nowhere to go. But as long as he kept on walking, he was still alive and functioning. Functioning was the only thing requiered to fullfil his duties. Teru did not need to be whole, he just needed to function and walk on and on.
And now he was here, in front of Kyouto's prosecution and his leg were only one go from giving in on him. It was the last place he'd reached on his walk through the city, his search for home, safety, himself. His appartement was not there... The house was, but the apartement was different and someone else lived in there, a messy NPC. There was nothing that would feel remotely like the place he had spent four years living at.
Dai Kyouto Sports Gym did not have him as a registered member in this Kyoto and his bank account had also never existed.
He was walking through the city, he lived in, like a ghost. Life in this city existed, went on and on, without him.
In this Kyouto he had never protected people, never made a difference at all. His existence was just meaningless.
But this was definitely the worst. Mikami had known it would be stupid to even go here. He knew office 4's name plate would not say 'Teru Mikami' in this place. Why he even bothered to go check was beyond him. It felt like masochistic self-torture.]
Excuse me, but who would be the prosecutor residing in office 4?
That's Takamura Ren.
Thank you...
[He turned around and walked out of the building, but once he was out he could not bring himself to leave. He turned around and stared up at the familiar building.
A year at the Manor and Teru felt like he would never be allowed to return home.
He sat down on a nearby bench, never taking his eyes of the building he'd spent most of his time in. Thoughts were spinning in his head, but he did not bother to catch and follow them. However, some were not to be avoided, they hammered against his mind, scratching the surface, leaving no room for anything else.
A year. A city without him. A world without God.
Teru's fingers dug into the fabric of his pants and his knuckles turned white. Usually he would have tried to avoid damaging his suit, but right now he wasn't really himself.
But there was nothing more to show his feelings, he could do nothing but hurt inside of his head. In a way he was locked into his own mind, caged without any chance to escape at all. Inside he could be dying again and again, but nobody would be able to tell by the way he looked on the outside.
His sanity was screaming at him, telling him to follow his schedule like he always would, but for once Teru did not feel compelled to listen. There was no schedule to follow here, it was impossible. In this Kyouto, Teru Mikami did not exist. God did not exist. He was thrown back to zero, an entire life had become meaningless. Of course, Teru knew, it was just the Author messing with worlds, but he could not feel it at all.
And he just sat there on the bench, hour after hour until the sun was going down. Just a man in a suit with broken eyes behind clean glasses.]
no subject
Say, is that you, Mikami-san?
no subject
Yes. Good day...
no subject
You're not working on New Year's, are you?
no subject
[He sighed and glanced at the building again. He really longed to be inside there though... He never had been a person to not work on holidays. They did not matter, compared to the greater good and the importance of his schedule]
But that wasn't my choice.
no subject
You mean to say, you wish you were working?
[Was she the only one who appreciated a day off?]
no subject
[Which translates to the fact that he is a complete workaholic and gets nervous when there is nothing to do. And it's not like he has anybody to come home to either, for him this was just normal]
no subject
[She shrugs her shoulders and tucks away a stray strand of hair that threatened to fall out of her up-do.]
After all, making sure you get enough of a break is just as important to your health. Or things start to blur together, right?
no subject
You're right, maybe I should remember that a bit more often. But it's not like I would be forced to work extremely much at the Manor...
[Again, he glanced up at the building in front of them. It had been so different, when he could still work there...]
no subject
...and of course he come to this site here. At first he simply observes from a distance, not making his presence known. He even pulls himself away to observe a few more individuals before returning to the bench to see if Mikami has remained. At first he planned to do nothing, but it was almost like there was an incessant little tug in the back of his mind drawing him back there. This 'tug' as it were only made him more reluctant to approach, not until he understood it.
It was not until after a great amount of debating, that he came to the conclusion that he was going to repay a debt. He owed Mikami quite a bit for his care on a few occasions now. It was simply logical that he work to repay it. Being in someone's debt was something he should be above, and thus simply needed to do away with it as quickly as possible.
So, at the time Mikami typically had his dinner (Mukuro had made a point to memorize his schedule of course), Mukuro made his presence known, allowing his veil of illusionary mist to fade and taking a seat next to Mikami, holding out a warm beverage to him]
Oya, oya, you'll catch a cold if you stay out so long in this weather my friend.
[Ugh, usually feigning civility didn't bother him in the least, he often found it quite entertaining to keep up his elaborate act of civility, but for some reason this time it absolutely disgusted him. Of course it did not impede his ability to maintain this act. No, he has maintained this act under far greater duress than this. B right now he couldn't shake the feeling of it being personal. Naturally he did not approve of having to deal with something so close to him in that sense. No one was allowed to get that close. Saguru had threatened the boarders, but he was a tool. Maintaining that relationship had practical purposes. This? There was nothing to gain at all.]
no subject
It was almost odd to see Mukuro like this, friendly and civil, next to him. He'd seen his younger self silent and confused, covered in blood as well, his older self killing... There was just so many images of him, somehow this had seemed the least likely to show up to Teru. He knew though that this thoughts made no sense.
He didn't know how to feel about Mukuro being here either. Mukuro was confusing him even more, another part in his puzzle of suppressed despair... and at the same time he was at least familiar. Familiar enough for Mikami to not feel the need of immediately putting on a mask of polite indifference and let that lost look linger in his eyes for another moment or two.
Teru surprised himself with it. Mukuro was unrighteous (most likely at least) and he was not supposed to feel save or relaxed around him at all, not even for a second and no matter how small the feeling might be.
But right now he felt just too bad, too small, too numb to do anything about. So Mukuro was seeing more of him than he should. That might just be fine. He was unrighteous after all, what should Mikami care what he thought of him?
A twisted way of justifying his actions, but Mikami was too tired to go after the thought for any longer.]
I don't become ill easily...
[Very hesitantly he took the drink offered to him, feeling it warm his hands. He had not realized how cold they had been before.]
Thank you.
[Being this civil with Mukuro felt both, wrong and right, at the same time]
no subject
[He reclines back and crosses his legs, keeping things light and casual. Falling into the act felt nice. The man was obviously too far gone for any intense philosophical discussions on morals. Not to say he wasn't going to try to get him to talk. A fascinating thing about people, when under extreme emotional duress the urge to talk pushes at the normal barriers. While he doesn't expect Mikami to suddenly decide to spill his soul (the thought was almost laughable), but perhaps he may be able to push more personal subjects and get more feedback.]
So, I take it you hail from this area?
no subject
And he'd rather not hear about the details of Mukuro's imagination either, so the question was almost welcome. Almost, if it had not been for the fact that it was exactly what caused him to look so obviously miserable in first place. He still found it in himself to nod and reply, albeit quietly]
Yes... In my world, I lived in this city and worked in the prosecution in front of us.
[Using past tense hurt. But nothing else felt appropriate. Returning to his Kyouto, his court, his apartement felt more out of reach than ever before now. The Author was unpredictable, but as it was now she did not seem like she would like to let him go. And he didn't even want her to. The thought of going home just like that without being able to save those who were righteous and still stuck here... It was horrible, nothing Mikami would ever be capable of wishing for.
Not wishing for it hurt, but it was not as bad as selfishly wanting it. He was here and people were suffering. Mikami would not be able to live with himself, leaving them.
'Home' was out of reach now.]
no subject
[He takes a casual sip of his beverage.]
It is quite trying for the author to keep us here as long as she does. I suppose with one of such an upstanding life as yours it is a blessing about the time anomalies this place provides us for our stay.
[A blessing for Mikami, and once a curse for him. While he was no longer trapped in Vendice, he remembered having to return the that vile prison for a number of months before he was once again pulled to the manor. Though now it would be a blessing for him as well, he couldn't have Chrome perish because he hasn't there to maintain her organs.]
no subject
[There was no way he wouldn't have been replaced by now, it'd been a year after all.
But his words on this matter were empty. None of his more emotional parts believed in returning to his normal life. He felt as if it would be a lot less hurtful to give up hoping.]