It is. The capital city. Honestly, it's not dissimilar to parts of 7...
[ Still, he misses it. The polite efficiency of the throngs of people crossing Shibuya, the shopkeepers who knew him by name, the humble cafe tucked into an alley of a quiet neighborhood. ]
I think you'd enjoy visiting, if only it were possible.
Hm, are you sure? I could do that. Tempura udon might be nice... You don't have that back in your reality, do you?
I was thinking shrimp tempura! It's breaded, it's very delicious. Udon is a type of noodle, so it's like a soup, but a very hearty one... Although, now having said all of this, I need to see if I can actually source the correct ingredients. It may end up being a bit of a bastardization.
Well, I guess I'm offering to cook you dinner at my place, in the end!
Also! Please introduce me to your seafood guy one day! That would be a huge help in the future.
[ "Is he practicing making tempura udon because it's his Special Meal with Akira and he wants to make it for him to continue trying to make amends despite Akira saying he's already forgiven him" dude of fucking course that's what he's doing. The man is never without ulterior motives, and a good 40% of them are Akira-based. ]
I ended up finding a place in 4, despite your advice that one needn't live in the district of one's emblem. Anywhere else seemed to be a poor fit.
That's his handle, just say you know me and you're good. He really likes me, probably because I'm a source of reliable income for him, buying his shit so religiously.
A lot of people do end up doing that, and it makes sense. Glad you found a place. Tomorrow night works for me.
On the off chance sourcing ingredients becomes a nightmare and we have to change the plan, I'll let you know. If not... See you tomorrow!
The door will be unlocked, 4 is a very safe place. Just let yourself in.
[ It is a bit of a nightmare, but not enough of one to make him call the night off.
He spends most of his time figuring out substitutes for things like dashi and panko, and texting Akira stuff like What kind of distorted reality doesn't have miso paste? and Would you disapprove if I created a cognitive Ore no Beko to make our lives easier? (I'm kidding!!!)
His apartment is still sparse, a stark reminder every day that while he is settling in by necessity, this is not home. His plants, his overflowing bookshelves, his reams and reams of research papers in file boxes. His record player and his fully stocked kitchen and his landscape paintings on the walls.
None of it is here. The austerity reminds him of his Palace, but wholly unappealing. White walls, everything clean and precise.
When Finnick arrives, he'll find Maruki in full home chef mode, complete with rolled up sleeves, an apron and a dish towel slung over one shoulder. He wasn't kidding, he really is skilled at this.
He looks up from where he's making his own goddamn udon noodles from scratch because this city is BARBARIC and grins warmly. ]
Welcome in, welcome in! Ah, I'm sorry for the mess.
[ It's nice of Maruki to offer this. Finnick is the one who cooks in his household, although Eren helps him with the parts of prep work that are hard with one arm. It'll be nice to have a meal he's not responsible for, and something with seafood no less.
Not only that, but whatever their relationship turns out to be in the end, he likes being around Maruki. He's a kind man, but Finnick can also tell there might be something secret lurking beneath the surface, and that kind of thing attracts Finnick like a magnet. Mystery is like a drug for him. It's no wonder he's in love with Eren.
Finnick picks up the shrimp and heads over to district 4. He knocks on Maruki's door to announce his presence before letting himself in.
It's no surprise that Maruki's apartment is sparse. Most people are slow to settle in because they can't accept that this isn't temporary. And maybe it is temporary, so maybe they're right to be that way. But it's not temporary for Finnick, so he's been making his space more into a home. The party was a lovely housewarming, really.
He's cute in his apron, bustling around his kitchen like a 5-star chef.]
Hey, Doc.
[Finnick's voice is low and he smiles softly as he enters the kitchen and puts the pack of large shrimp on the counter near the stove.]
[ The shrimp are beautiful, Finnick wasn't kidding. He is going to spend all his credits on seafood from this guy and never make anything else.
He returns to finishing slicing the rolled out dough into noodles, gestures carefully with the knife to the seat at the bar overlooking the little kitchen. ]
Thanks for the offer, but absolutely not. You really outdid yourself hosting a motley crew in your home. Please, allow me to return the favor. Your company while I cook is more than enough.
[ There's a simple, brooks-no-argument sincerity to the way Maruki says it, as if he actually means it, without a sense of pride or prevarication.
The final thick noodle sectioned off, he bundles them up and drops them into a waiting bowl until their time comes. Turns to pull a bunch of other things out of the refrigerator, including two beers, one opened and handed off to Finnick with a smile.
He never had reason to play host in Tokyo, but it sates some deep need within him to provide and pamper. Offsetting the keen loneliness he feels here – felt back home, too, in both the true reality and the cognitive world – is no small bonus, either. He's all too happy to clink the bottoms of the bottles together and take a drink before setting himself to the task of peeling and cleaning the shrimp. ]
Alright, since I didn't get to make a dish from your reality, you owe me at least one story about it. Hopefully more!
[ Finnick laughs softly at Maruki's firmness in this one thing- that Finnick Not Do Any Work. ]
Works for me. I'm best at sitting and looking pretty, anyway.
[ He sits at the bar, watching intently as Maruki cooks. The homemade (!) noodles are fatter than any Finnick has seen before. He looks forward to learning more about the novel food and cooking techniques by watching Maruki at work.
He thanks his friend for the beer and clinks his bottle before taking a generous sip. Refreshing. Maruki is easy to be around, easy to talk to. It's no issue getting comfortable in his space. ]
Mm. Yeah. Well, I grew up in the fishing district, District 4. Funny how that's where you live now, huh?
I was on boats before I could walk. I was expected to be a fisherman, like my father was, until my life took a different turn at 14. But before that age, I have some good memories with my mother. She was an amazing cook. The house always smelled like seaweed and fish, but in the best way you can imagine.
All the districts were poor. We were lucky in that our district didn't have people regularly starving to death, though. Definitely helped that our industry was a food source in itself. Everyone knew how to get food from the ocean. Still, in the winter when fish weren't plentiful, it was way harder to get by, and things could get dire.
At the peak of fishing season, my dad would be away for long periods on the boats, but on the night he returned for good at the end of the season, my mom would cook a huge meal. Shellfish pasta. Clam chowder. Mussels with garlic. Boiled lobster. It was the one night of the year she'd pull out all the stops and use expensive and rare ingredients. Like butter. Oh, butter. It made everything better. She'd make this garlic butter that was like liquid gold. Dip your lobster in it, slather it on the bread, fry the fish golden brown in it. At the time, I had no idea what luxury was yet, but that was the best treat. Everyone was happy on that night. No one argued. We just stuffed ourselves until we were sleepy and satisfied.
[ Finnick smiles as he talks, getting animated about it, his face brightening. It's rare that he's asked to recall anything nice about his world. And if he speaks on his family any further, it won't be so nice, not at all. But he's allowed to have this one good memory, this one nice thing, and bask in it for a minute. He's earned that much. ]
[ This does something strange to soothe Maruki's constantly churning mind.
Even before Azathoth, he had a difficult time turning his thoughts off, or even down. A penchant for analyzing everything around him combined with a pernicious amount of self-awareness has only buoyed him in his careers, but it did tend to make daily life difficult. And then, with the addition of another voice entirely – well, there was never any hope for him.
But the act of going through the motions of cooking – meticulously straightening out each shrimp before setting them aside to focus on the bastardized tempura batter and soup stock – while listening to a story about a reality completely unlike his own... That settles over his beleaguered mind and heart like a heavy blanket.
Despite the care he's taking with the preparation of the meal, he still hangs off every word, humming little noises as he listens to Finnick spin him a mind picture of home.
When the story ends, he looks up from his work and smiles at Finnick, small and soft. ]
The way you speak of your home, and your family, has a way of transporting someone there.
[ His homemade version of dashi from what little he could find in 7 is hardly accurate, but it'll do – he tastes a spoonful, shrugs, pours it into the pot on the stove as he speaks. ]
Isn't it interesting, what our happiest memories end up being associated with? A family dinner like that... Even if you enjoyed it as a child, it's only as we grow older that we truly value the simple pleasure of the people we love having been together, safe and well-fed.
[ A little too philosophical for a quarter of a beer and the beginning of the night, perhaps. He clears his throat, fiddles with the temperature of the stove and tacks on: ]
It sounds like it was entirely different from where we are now.
[He looks down and smiles a bit bashfully at that. It's odd to see Finnick sheepish, but it does happen on rare occasion. Maruki is just so... Sincere. Though he does wonder if the man lies by omission at times, the way Finnick does.
Together, safe, and well-fed. After that age, those three things were probably never true at once, for his blood family or his chosen family, ever again. Only for fleeting moments.]
It was. More different than you can imagine. There are parallels, and the level of technology is similar, but this world is safer and happier than mine by a landslide.
[But he doesn't want to talk about that. It's all anyone ever talks to him about and he's tired of it.]
That's a good thing, isn't it? There is no part of Maruki that wants to stay in 7 any longer than he must, but there's also no denying that there are people like Finnick for whom 7 is a blessing in disguise. Those who are from realities filled with unknowable pain and suffering... Would it really be so bad for them to run away from that and enjoy a comparatively peaceful life here?
It's a dark mental path to go down. Maruki schools himself out of it easily. ]
Ah, I do owe you one now, don't I...
[ The poor excuse for dashi needs time to simmer before he begins adding to it for the soup base, and he can't tell a story and fry shrimp at the same time, so he settles for chopping the scallions.
Maruki feels like he's already told so much about himself to Finnick, though he knows objectively that cannot be true. Still, it isn't an insignificant amount for a guy like him – Finnick has heard of his research, his career as a counselor, even obliquely of Rumi.
Anything about the Metaverse is out of the question. He and Akira are keeping that secret for as long as they can.
Akira–
He could tell a story about Akira. But then, what is there to tell? He sought out a specific student for a specific reason – but that involves revealing the abuse and corruption at Shujin. He came to appreciate him as a person just as much as a collaborator – but that treads a thin line of too much information about the work he was pursuing, even if he only references it vaguely. He kept his secrets – but that begins to tread into the territory of Phantom Thieves. He betrayed him – but that flings open the door to all that those in 7 can never know. He has him here now – that much is obvious, and difficult to explain in its significance to someone who, by necessity, cannot know the other details.
Maruki slices off the rooty ends of the scallions, turns to toss them into a small scrap heap to use for plant food later, and then turns back with a smile. ]
Tokyo, the city that Kurusu and I are from, is the largest city in our country. The largest in the world. You could live your whole life in Tokyo and never experience all that it has to offer. Anything you could want is there, if you can find it.
Such a huge, densely populated city obviously comes with plenty of drawbacks, but I've visited other metropolitan cities in the world and I can say that Tokyo is unique. Despite the massive amount of citizens and tourists, there is a certain... care that's inherent to the population.
There's a story that I believe exemplifies what makes Tokyo so wonderful. If you'll indulge me...
[ It doesn't take long to chop the scallions, and then he has nothing left to do with his hands. So he simply straightens up, takes his beer in hand, and leans back against the opposite counter to sip and watch Finnick as he speaks. It is a story he's told before, and his voice is warm and fond as he goes through it. ]
A man who was moving from a rural area to our bustling city adopted a farm dog named Buchiko to bring with him. They developed an intensely close bond during their life together in Tokyo.
Every morning, the man would commute to his job as a professor at the university. Every evening, Buchiko left the house to wait at Shibuya station to greet him, and they would walk home together.
Tragically, after only a year together, the man died suddenly in the middle of teaching one of his classes. He never returned to Buchiko again.
Yet every day at precisely the time that his train would have been due to arrive, Buchiko waited patiently at Shibuya station. Every day. For nine years, nine months and fifteen days – until the day Buchiko passed away and could finally meet the man again.
His faithful loyalty is inspiring to the citizens of Tokyo. It's a sweet story, albeit a sad one.
I can't possibly explain to you how busy Shibuya station is. Every day, millions of passengers come through. Yet in the middle of the square just outside the station, there is a statue of Buchiko. In the midst of such a crowded, chaotic place... People still stop to pay their respects to Buchiko. Give him a pet and remember his story. I've lived there my whole life, passed through Shibuya nearly every day of that, and I still sometimes feel a catch in my heart when I see the statue.
[ A pause, and he shrugs with a bashful smile. A less personal story, to be certain, but maybe there's a reason for that. ]
[Finnick clocks how long it takes Maruki to think of something to share, and that the story isn't very personal. Not as personal as Finnick's, to be sure. But it's still a sweet story, and he's interested to know more about Tokyo and Japan. "Millions" of passengers makes him gawk.]
That's so sweet. You're right, for such a big city that's really... Sentimental. The one huge city in my country is not a place where something like that could or would happen.
[He sips the beer, leaning back in his chair.]
I've met a lot of people here from Japan. It must have been one of the most populated places on earth before everything went to shit. I lived on earth after the apocalypse, in what used to be North America. The population was decimated, and we were allegedly the only civilization to survive.
[Though whether that's true or propaganda, he isn't sure. Probably true.]
It took me a while to put it together, too. I met people from Japan but didn't realize we were from the same world because I didn't recognize the name of the place. But there are different timelines, so I'm told.
[Told by a teenager, but a pretty smart one, all things considered. The same guy told him the following theory:]
My friend Bakugo suggested this city might be sort of... Hole-punched out of a bigger city. That someone made the amplitheater and then lost control of it, and it moved off into its own world somehow. I thought that was an interesting way of seeing it. Personally, I see the city as just as self-contained and controlled as the amplitheater, so I think there must be something outside of it pulling all the strings. What that is, I have no idea. Some kind of godlike being or AI, probably.
[Finnick has always thought of this place as an arena within an arena, ever since he got here.]
But yeah, all we can do is speculate. We aren't told a single thing, and there's no one in charge to complain to.
watch me struggle not to have him go full tilt Take Back Reality influencer in both games
[ Split timelines, alternate realities, those in the shadows manipulating what they perceive. It's comical, honestly. Maruki focuses intently on the now frying shrimp to avoid giving anything away on his face.
It's a strange thing, in this reality. His true skillset being so relevant to their circumstances and having to play the role of a hapless ex-researcher, ex-counselor instead. Listening to theories like this and having to temper his own for fear of revealing too much. Maruki hasn't been here long enough for it to get truly frustrating, but it will.
Bakugo. He files that one away.
For now– ]
That's an interesting theory. For the record, I'm inclined to agree with you. There is always someone or something in power, even if it isn't apparent at first – especially then.
[ A pause, a weighing of options. ]
In fact, if an authority figure does eventually make itself known to us, I would say that should only make us more suspicious. A means of placating the masses by giving us a figurehead to rail against while the real powers that be continue to work in darkness.
[ Shrimps: being deliciously fried! Soup base: being added to the dashi! Maruki: turning around to enjoy his beer for a moment and look normal, sound cheery! ]
With how invested so many of us are in tying together bits and pieces of the truth, I wouldn't be surprised if we stumble upon something soon. Kurusu's survey and Eren's experiment are bound to become significant eventually.
[There has to be someone or something in power. Otherwise why would the amplitheater need participants? It's like having a Hunger Games with no Capitol. It's there, they just can't see it.]
That's a good point.
[Smart. Honestly, Finnick hadn't considered that.
He smiles at the mention of Eren's experiment... He's really proud of his partner for that. Both for being smart enough to think of it and decisive and cooperative enough to execute it.]
Honestly, I've been a bit mindblown by learning about the Paths and similar things too. Those places that exist outside of time and hold ultimate power? Talking to Eren made me realize something like that might exist in my world without us knowing. The Capitol would hide it and use it secretly. And it could exist here too. It would explain a lot.
[ Ah. And there's that second part of the post that he declined to answer.
Maruki has his back to Finnick again, tending to the shrimp as they march their way toward crispy delicious golden brown. His eyes widen behind his glasses – not an expression of shock or surprise, merely one of I cannot believe I'm dealing with this shit right now.
A place beyond time and space that can bestow phenomenal powers. Azathoth, dormant and ever watchful in the back of his mind. Raoul, burning bright hot just behind Akira's eyes.
His tone remains pleasantly mild and curious. ]
Something like that very well could exist here. It would make sense why we develop a power upon settling into our vice and virtue, for starters.
[ The collective unconscious exists in every reality, by its very nature. So there is, at the very least, that source of power. What else there could be, Maruki couldn't begin to guess.
He removes a few of the shrimp, sets them on a rack to drain off the excess oil, tosses the noodles into the pot. It's nearly ready.
Another glance over his shoulder at Finnick, a wry smile. ]
[Another good point. Power woven within all things. Maruki is a smart cookie, which isn't surprising, of course.
Why is he so cute looking over his shoulder like that? And why is his voice so... Good?]
Nope, we were all regular humans. There were some genetically modified beasts with weird powers, though. I assume you were in a regular human-dominated version of earth, too.
[The smell of the food is making him nosy. He gets up and looks closer at what's on the stove, maybe coming a little too close to Maruki, purely because he has no idea what personal space is.]
[ That's almost the million dollar question, and of course Finnick has to ask it as he's crowding close.
A half-truth is the best bet. ]
For the most part, yes. If you met almost anyone from our reality, they would tell you it was as normal as they come.
[ Except, of course, the two guys from said reality who happen to be here.
The last shrimp rescued from its dip in the oil bath, Maruki lays it out as well and turns off the heat. Moving over to tend to the soup pot does mean moving closer to Finnick, which is... fine. ]
Anyway, you're correct! I've had to make a lot of substitutions, one was using regular seaweed for the stock instead of konbu. At this point, so much of this recipe has been modified that it might as well not even bear the same name as the original...
[ He dips a clean wooden spoon into the pot and holds it up for Finnick. ]
Here. Tell me if it's alright.
[ Yes, he'll hold the spoon for Finnick to drink the little bit of soup off of. Hopefully that's enough to distract him from talk of powers inherent to their realities. ]
Well, everyone thinks their own reality is normal, especially if this place is what they're comparing it to.
[He's breaded the shrimp, made noodles and broth. This isn't too different to what they'd eat in Finnick's district... Well, on a very, very good day.]
What's konbu?
[Finnick glances up from the spoon to Maruki as he blows a couple of time on the spoon. Once he sips it, his eyebrows shoot up and he nods quickly.]
Mm! Really good.
[It is good, but his response is also highly informed by his people-pleasing nature, and Maruki being so close to him and looking at him with those big brown eyes.]
[ Good lord, Finnick looking up through his eyelashes like that is a dire situation.
Maruki grins at the compliment, tosses the spoon away and turns back to the pot. ]
I'm glad. Now out of here, it's almost done.
[ It's nowhere close to that last meal he shared with Akira. He'll need to work on this recipe... or spend more time sourcing ingredients. Or both.
While he talks, he assembles the bowls: soup, noodles, scallions, the crispy shrimp tempura. Even simplified and bastardized, they do look good. ]
Ah, konbu is a type of kelp. It's used in so much of our cooking that I can't imagine not having access to it here. You'd like it, I'm sure! You may have even had it back in– ah, in your District 4, but just under a different name. Who knows?
[ And with that, the tempura udon is PLATED. Bowled. Whatever. Maruki sets both bowls up on the bar counter and finally comes around to join Finnick, sliding easily into the chair next to him with the relieved sigh of someone who has been on their feet in a kitchen for too long.
He grins brightly at Finnick, all the stress of the previous topic now gone from his mind. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I'm from Tokyo, Finnick.
... Ah, you don't know where that is.
Much of our cuisine is centered around seafood. What did you have in mind?
no subject
I'm not picky, really. Shellfish is a favorite. Although, I make stuff from home all the time. Why don't you make me something from your home?
no subject
[ Still, he misses it. The polite efficiency of the throngs of people crossing Shibuya, the shopkeepers who knew him by name, the humble cafe tucked into an alley of a quiet neighborhood. ]
I think you'd enjoy visiting, if only it were possible.
Hm, are you sure? I could do that. Tempura udon might be nice... You don't have that back in your reality, do you?
no subject
Sure don't. What kind of fish is it?
no subject
I was thinking shrimp tempura! It's breaded, it's very delicious. Udon is a type of noodle, so it's like a soup, but a very hearty one... Although, now having said all of this, I need to see if I can actually source the correct ingredients. It may end up being a bit of a bastardization.
Well, I guess I'm offering to cook you dinner at my place, in the end!
no subject
Can do.
That sounds really good. I can get the shrimp- I've got a seafood guy who gets it freshest. Excited to try it in a way I haven't had it before.
How very forward of you, Maruki. ;)
... I'm kidding, by the way, that's a joke.
no subject
[ He did, sort of. ]
Also! Please introduce me to your seafood guy one day! That would be a huge help in the future.
[ "Is he practicing making tempura udon because it's his Special Meal with Akira and he wants to make it for him to continue trying to make amends despite Akira saying he's already forgiven him" dude of fucking course that's what he's doing. The man is never without ulterior motives, and a good 40% of them are Akira-based. ]
I ended up finding a place in 4, despite your advice that one needn't live in the district of one's emblem. Anywhere else seemed to be a poor fit.
Shall we say tomorrow night? Or is that too soon?
no subject
That's his handle, just say you know me and you're good. He really likes me, probably because I'm a source of reliable income for him, buying his shit so religiously.
A lot of people do end up doing that, and it makes sense. Glad you found a place. Tomorrow night works for me.
> action !!
On the off chance sourcing ingredients becomes a nightmare and we have to change the plan, I'll let you know. If not... See you tomorrow!
The door will be unlocked, 4 is a very safe place. Just let yourself in.
[ It is a bit of a nightmare, but not enough of one to make him call the night off.
He spends most of his time figuring out substitutes for things like dashi and panko, and texting Akira stuff like What kind of distorted reality doesn't have miso paste? and Would you disapprove if I created a cognitive Ore no Beko to make our lives easier? (I'm kidding!!!)
His apartment is still sparse, a stark reminder every day that while he is settling in by necessity, this is not home. His plants, his overflowing bookshelves, his reams and reams of research papers in file boxes. His record player and his fully stocked kitchen and his landscape paintings on the walls.
None of it is here. The austerity reminds him of his Palace, but wholly unappealing. White walls, everything clean and precise.
When Finnick arrives, he'll find Maruki in full home chef mode, complete with rolled up sleeves, an apron and a dish towel slung over one shoulder. He wasn't kidding, he really is skilled at this.
He looks up from where he's making his own goddamn udon noodles from scratch because this city is BARBARIC and grins warmly. ]
Welcome in, welcome in! Ah, I'm sorry for the mess.
[ There is no mess. ]
no subject
[ It's nice of Maruki to offer this. Finnick is the one who cooks in his household, although Eren helps him with the parts of prep work that are hard with one arm. It'll be nice to have a meal he's not responsible for, and something with seafood no less.
Not only that, but whatever their relationship turns out to be in the end, he likes being around Maruki. He's a kind man, but Finnick can also tell there might be something secret lurking beneath the surface, and that kind of thing attracts Finnick like a magnet. Mystery is like a drug for him. It's no wonder he's in love with Eren.
Finnick picks up the shrimp and heads over to district 4. He knocks on Maruki's door to announce his presence before letting himself in.
It's no surprise that Maruki's apartment is sparse. Most people are slow to settle in because they can't accept that this isn't temporary. And maybe it is temporary, so maybe they're right to be that way. But it's not temporary for Finnick, so he's been making his space more into a home. The party was a lovely housewarming, really.
He's cute in his apron, bustling around his kitchen like a 5-star chef.]
Hey, Doc.
[Finnick's voice is low and he smiles softly as he enters the kitchen and puts the pack of large shrimp on the counter near the stove.]
Got the goods. Need any help?
no subject
[ The shrimp are beautiful, Finnick wasn't kidding. He is going to spend all his credits on seafood from this guy and never make anything else.
He returns to finishing slicing the rolled out dough into noodles, gestures carefully with the knife to the seat at the bar overlooking the little kitchen. ]
Thanks for the offer, but absolutely not. You really outdid yourself hosting a motley crew in your home. Please, allow me to return the favor. Your company while I cook is more than enough.
[ There's a simple, brooks-no-argument sincerity to the way Maruki says it, as if he actually means it, without a sense of pride or prevarication.
The final thick noodle sectioned off, he bundles them up and drops them into a waiting bowl until their time comes. Turns to pull a bunch of other things out of the refrigerator, including two beers, one opened and handed off to Finnick with a smile.
He never had reason to play host in Tokyo, but it sates some deep need within him to provide and pamper. Offsetting the keen loneliness he feels here – felt back home, too, in both the true reality and the cognitive world – is no small bonus, either. He's all too happy to clink the bottoms of the bottles together and take a drink before setting himself to the task of peeling and cleaning the shrimp. ]
Alright, since I didn't get to make a dish from your reality, you owe me at least one story about it. Hopefully more!
Have abit of headcanon about Finnick early life
Works for me. I'm best at sitting and looking pretty, anyway.
[ He sits at the bar, watching intently as Maruki cooks. The homemade (!) noodles are fatter than any Finnick has seen before. He looks forward to learning more about the novel food and cooking techniques by watching Maruki at work.
He thanks his friend for the beer and clinks his bottle before taking a generous sip. Refreshing. Maruki is easy to be around, easy to talk to. It's no issue getting comfortable in his space. ]
Mm. Yeah. Well, I grew up in the fishing district, District 4. Funny how that's where you live now, huh?
I was on boats before I could walk. I was expected to be a fisherman, like my father was, until my life took a different turn at 14. But before that age, I have some good memories with my mother. She was an amazing cook. The house always smelled like seaweed and fish, but in the best way you can imagine.
All the districts were poor. We were lucky in that our district didn't have people regularly starving to death, though. Definitely helped that our industry was a food source in itself. Everyone knew how to get food from the ocean. Still, in the winter when fish weren't plentiful, it was way harder to get by, and things could get dire.
At the peak of fishing season, my dad would be away for long periods on the boats, but on the night he returned for good at the end of the season, my mom would cook a huge meal. Shellfish pasta. Clam chowder. Mussels with garlic. Boiled lobster. It was the one night of the year she'd pull out all the stops and use expensive and rare ingredients. Like butter. Oh, butter. It made everything better. She'd make this garlic butter that was like liquid gold. Dip your lobster in it, slather it on the bread, fry the fish golden brown in it. At the time, I had no idea what luxury was yet, but that was the best treat. Everyone was happy on that night. No one argued. We just stuffed ourselves until we were sleepy and satisfied.
[ Finnick smiles as he talks, getting animated about it, his face brightening. It's rare that he's asked to recall anything nice about his world. And if he speaks on his family any further, it won't be so nice, not at all. But he's allowed to have this one good memory, this one nice thing, and bask in it for a minute. He's earned that much. ]
HEAVEN TO ME TBH
Even before Azathoth, he had a difficult time turning his thoughts off, or even down. A penchant for analyzing everything around him combined with a pernicious amount of self-awareness has only buoyed him in his careers, but it did tend to make daily life difficult. And then, with the addition of another voice entirely – well, there was never any hope for him.
But the act of going through the motions of cooking – meticulously straightening out each shrimp before setting them aside to focus on the bastardized tempura batter and soup stock – while listening to a story about a reality completely unlike his own... That settles over his beleaguered mind and heart like a heavy blanket.
Despite the care he's taking with the preparation of the meal, he still hangs off every word, humming little noises as he listens to Finnick spin him a mind picture of home.
When the story ends, he looks up from his work and smiles at Finnick, small and soft. ]
The way you speak of your home, and your family, has a way of transporting someone there.
[ His homemade version of dashi from what little he could find in 7 is hardly accurate, but it'll do – he tastes a spoonful, shrugs, pours it into the pot on the stove as he speaks. ]
Isn't it interesting, what our happiest memories end up being associated with? A family dinner like that... Even if you enjoyed it as a child, it's only as we grow older that we truly value the simple pleasure of the people we love having been together, safe and well-fed.
[ A little too philosophical for a quarter of a beer and the beginning of the night, perhaps. He clears his throat, fiddles with the temperature of the stove and tacks on: ]
It sounds like it was entirely different from where we are now.
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Together, safe, and well-fed. After that age, those three things were probably never true at once, for his blood family or his chosen family, ever again. Only for fleeting moments.]
It was. More different than you can imagine. There are parallels, and the level of technology is similar, but this world is safer and happier than mine by a landslide.
[But he doesn't want to talk about that. It's all anyone ever talks to him about and he's tired of it.]
Your turn. Tell me a story from your world.
cw pet death - it's the hachiko story lol
That's a good thing, isn't it? There is no part of Maruki that wants to stay in 7 any longer than he must, but there's also no denying that there are people like Finnick for whom 7 is a blessing in disguise. Those who are from realities filled with unknowable pain and suffering... Would it really be so bad for them to run away from that and enjoy a comparatively peaceful life here?
It's a dark mental path to go down. Maruki schools himself out of it easily. ]
Ah, I do owe you one now, don't I...
[ The poor excuse for dashi needs time to simmer before he begins adding to it for the soup base, and he can't tell a story and fry shrimp at the same time, so he settles for chopping the scallions.
Maruki feels like he's already told so much about himself to Finnick, though he knows objectively that cannot be true. Still, it isn't an insignificant amount for a guy like him – Finnick has heard of his research, his career as a counselor, even obliquely of Rumi.
Anything about the Metaverse is out of the question. He and Akira are keeping that secret for as long as they can.
Akira–
He could tell a story about Akira. But then, what is there to tell? He sought out a specific student for a specific reason – but that involves revealing the abuse and corruption at Shujin. He came to appreciate him as a person just as much as a collaborator – but that treads a thin line of too much information about the work he was pursuing, even if he only references it vaguely. He kept his secrets – but that begins to tread into the territory of Phantom Thieves. He betrayed him – but that flings open the door to all that those in 7 can never know. He has him here now – that much is obvious, and difficult to explain in its significance to someone who, by necessity, cannot know the other details.
Maruki slices off the rooty ends of the scallions, turns to toss them into a small scrap heap to use for plant food later, and then turns back with a smile. ]
Tokyo, the city that Kurusu and I are from, is the largest city in our country. The largest in the world. You could live your whole life in Tokyo and never experience all that it has to offer. Anything you could want is there, if you can find it.
Such a huge, densely populated city obviously comes with plenty of drawbacks, but I've visited other metropolitan cities in the world and I can say that Tokyo is unique. Despite the massive amount of citizens and tourists, there is a certain... care that's inherent to the population.
There's a story that I believe exemplifies what makes Tokyo so wonderful. If you'll indulge me...
[ It doesn't take long to chop the scallions, and then he has nothing left to do with his hands. So he simply straightens up, takes his beer in hand, and leans back against the opposite counter to sip and watch Finnick as he speaks. It is a story he's told before, and his voice is warm and fond as he goes through it. ]
A man who was moving from a rural area to our bustling city adopted a farm dog named Buchiko to bring with him. They developed an intensely close bond during their life together in Tokyo.
Every morning, the man would commute to his job as a professor at the university. Every evening, Buchiko left the house to wait at Shibuya station to greet him, and they would walk home together.
Tragically, after only a year together, the man died suddenly in the middle of teaching one of his classes. He never returned to Buchiko again.
Yet every day at precisely the time that his train would have been due to arrive, Buchiko waited patiently at Shibuya station. Every day. For nine years, nine months and fifteen days – until the day Buchiko passed away and could finally meet the man again.
His faithful loyalty is inspiring to the citizens of Tokyo. It's a sweet story, albeit a sad one.
I can't possibly explain to you how busy Shibuya station is. Every day, millions of passengers come through. Yet in the middle of the square just outside the station, there is a statue of Buchiko. In the midst of such a crowded, chaotic place... People still stop to pay their respects to Buchiko. Give him a pet and remember his story. I've lived there my whole life, passed through Shibuya nearly every day of that, and I still sometimes feel a catch in my heart when I see the statue.
[ A pause, and he shrugs with a bashful smile. A less personal story, to be certain, but maybe there's a reason for that. ]
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That's so sweet. You're right, for such a big city that's really... Sentimental. The one huge city in my country is not a place where something like that could or would happen.
[He sips the beer, leaning back in his chair.]
I've met a lot of people here from Japan. It must have been one of the most populated places on earth before everything went to shit. I lived on earth after the apocalypse, in what used to be North America. The population was decimated, and we were allegedly the only civilization to survive.
[Though whether that's true or propaganda, he isn't sure. Probably true.]
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Really? I have no idea why I assumed your reality was a different planet entirely, not a future Earth. Huh.
[ Story told, he can now focus on battering the shrimp and heating up the oil. ]
It makes me wonder if 7 isn't the same way. Perhaps not a future Earth, but... Some last remaining gasp of civilization after the end of all things.
[ Maruki laughs and shakes his head, eyes still down on them lil shramps. ]
Ah, but if I go down that road I'll be on conspiracy theories all night.
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[Told by a teenager, but a pretty smart one, all things considered. The same guy told him the following theory:]
My friend Bakugo suggested this city might be sort of... Hole-punched out of a bigger city. That someone made the amplitheater and then lost control of it, and it moved off into its own world somehow. I thought that was an interesting way of seeing it. Personally, I see the city as just as self-contained and controlled as the amplitheater, so I think there must be something outside of it pulling all the strings. What that is, I have no idea. Some kind of godlike being or AI, probably.
[Finnick has always thought of this place as an arena within an arena, ever since he got here.]
But yeah, all we can do is speculate. We aren't told a single thing, and there's no one in charge to complain to.
watch me struggle not to have him go full tilt Take Back Reality influencer in both games
It's a strange thing, in this reality. His true skillset being so relevant to their circumstances and having to play the role of a hapless ex-researcher, ex-counselor instead. Listening to theories like this and having to temper his own for fear of revealing too much. Maruki hasn't been here long enough for it to get truly frustrating, but it will.
Bakugo. He files that one away.
For now– ]
That's an interesting theory. For the record, I'm inclined to agree with you. There is always someone or something in power, even if it isn't apparent at first – especially then.
[ A pause, a weighing of options. ]
In fact, if an authority figure does eventually make itself known to us, I would say that should only make us more suspicious. A means of placating the masses by giving us a figurehead to rail against while the real powers that be continue to work in darkness.
[ Shrimps: being deliciously fried! Soup base: being added to the dashi! Maruki: turning around to enjoy his beer for a moment and look normal, sound cheery! ]
With how invested so many of us are in tying together bits and pieces of the truth, I wouldn't be surprised if we stumble upon something soon. Kurusu's survey and Eren's experiment are bound to become significant eventually.
finnick will probably end up enabling him somehow
[There has to be someone or something in power. Otherwise why would the amplitheater need participants? It's like having a Hunger Games with no Capitol. It's there, they just can't see it.]
That's a good point.
[Smart. Honestly, Finnick hadn't considered that.
He smiles at the mention of Eren's experiment... He's really proud of his partner for that. Both for being smart enough to think of it and decisive and cooperative enough to execute it.]
Honestly, I've been a bit mindblown by learning about the Paths and similar things too. Those places that exist outside of time and hold ultimate power? Talking to Eren made me realize something like that might exist in my world without us knowing. The Capitol would hide it and use it secretly. And it could exist here too. It would explain a lot.
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Maruki has his back to Finnick again, tending to the shrimp as they march their way toward crispy delicious golden brown. His eyes widen behind his glasses – not an expression of shock or surprise, merely one of I cannot believe I'm dealing with this shit right now.
A place beyond time and space that can bestow phenomenal powers. Azathoth, dormant and ever watchful in the back of his mind. Raoul, burning bright hot just behind Akira's eyes.
His tone remains pleasantly mild and curious. ]
Something like that very well could exist here. It would make sense why we develop a power upon settling into our vice and virtue, for starters.
[ The collective unconscious exists in every reality, by its very nature. So there is, at the very least, that source of power. What else there could be, Maruki couldn't begin to guess.
He removes a few of the shrimp, sets them on a rack to drain off the excess oil, tosses the noodles into the pot. It's nearly ready.
Another glance over his shoulder at Finnick, a wry smile. ]
Did anyone have strange powers in your reality?
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Why is he so cute looking over his shoulder like that? And why is his voice so... Good?]
Nope, we were all regular humans. There were some genetically modified beasts with weird powers, though. I assume you were in a regular human-dominated version of earth, too.
[The smell of the food is making him nosy. He gets up and looks closer at what's on the stove, maybe coming a little too close to Maruki, purely because he has no idea what personal space is.]
There's seaweed in something here. I smell it.
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A half-truth is the best bet. ]
For the most part, yes. If you met almost anyone from our reality, they would tell you it was as normal as they come.
[ Except, of course, the two guys from said reality who happen to be here.
The last shrimp rescued from its dip in the oil bath, Maruki lays it out as well and turns off the heat. Moving over to tend to the soup pot does mean moving closer to Finnick, which is... fine. ]
Anyway, you're correct! I've had to make a lot of substitutions, one was using regular seaweed for the stock instead of konbu. At this point, so much of this recipe has been modified that it might as well not even bear the same name as the original...
[ He dips a clean wooden spoon into the pot and holds it up for Finnick. ]
Here. Tell me if it's alright.
[ Yes, he'll hold the spoon for Finnick to drink the little bit of soup off of. Hopefully that's enough to distract him from talk of powers inherent to their realities. ]
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Well, everyone thinks their own reality is normal, especially if this place is what they're comparing it to.
[He's breaded the shrimp, made noodles and broth. This isn't too different to what they'd eat in Finnick's district... Well, on a very, very good day.]
What's konbu?
[Finnick glances up from the spoon to Maruki as he blows a couple of time on the spoon. Once he sips it, his eyebrows shoot up and he nods quickly.]
Mm! Really good.
[It is good, but his response is also highly informed by his people-pleasing nature, and Maruki being so close to him and looking at him with those big brown eyes.]
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Maruki grins at the compliment, tosses the spoon away and turns back to the pot. ]
I'm glad. Now out of here, it's almost done.
[ It's nowhere close to that last meal he shared with Akira. He'll need to work on this recipe... or spend more time sourcing ingredients. Or both.
While he talks, he assembles the bowls: soup, noodles, scallions, the crispy shrimp tempura. Even simplified and bastardized, they do look good. ]
Ah, konbu is a type of kelp. It's used in so much of our cooking that I can't imagine not having access to it here. You'd like it, I'm sure! You may have even had it back in– ah, in your District 4, but just under a different name. Who knows?
[ And with that, the tempura udon is PLATED. Bowled. Whatever. Maruki sets both bowls up on the bar counter and finally comes around to join Finnick, sliding easily into the chair next to him with the relieved sigh of someone who has been on their feet in a kitchen for too long.
He grins brightly at Finnick, all the stress of the previous topic now gone from his mind. ]
I hope it's to your liking. If not, please lie.
i love these two tbh
THEY'RE SO GOOD
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bo, how are you gonna dig the show out of this weird hole
great now i gotta rewatch that special
GOOD. so do I
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