Couldn't we just put away the ancient history?
WHO: Keith Anyan (motherloaded) and Jonah Matsuka (coffeematsuka)
WHERE: Keith's apartment at the MAC.
WHEN: Right around now.
WARNINGS: Keith being abusive to Matsuka. Forced honesty.
SUMMARY: The truth bug bites Keith. Hard.
FORMAT: Prose.
Any dust that collected in Keith's apartment during his absence has been whisked away. He refuses to compromise efficiency with such things--after all, the primitive technology of this era can be clogged by dust. But put the image of Keith with a feather-duster out of your mind; he just went around with a cloth and a can of compressed air.
That was an hour ago. Right now, Keith is sitting at his desk behind his laptop, looking thoughtfully at a corner. He could have sworn, while he was cleaning, that he saw some kind of insect there, but later he couldn't find it to crush and remove it...
Never mind. It's not important. What's important is establishing his return. His services to the police force are a secondary concern right now. The important thing is discovering what's been happening with the Mu, and to do that, he has to talk to Matsuka. He doesn't doubt that Matsuka will offer resistance: the presence of Bakura and the other Mu have given him an escape that he never had at Keith's side in their world. Keith will have to tread carefully.
He reaches out with his mind. Matsuka. Not a mental dagger this time, no scorn in the tone of his inner voice. Just a command.
* * *
Matsuka has been quiet since his return to the MAC - well, this is not new. More significantly, he has been not just quiet but actively on edge, skittish and wary of Keith in a way he has not been often since early in their acquaintance. He almost seems to be holding his breath in Keith's presence, waiting with wide eyes for a blow.
Nevertheless, he answers the command as always, quietly presenting himself at Keith's door and knocking lightly before, after a moment's pause, venturing to open it and peek inside.
* * *
Really, that makes this easier on Keith. He can tell that as things are, for whatever reason, the slightest kindness will seem like a blessing to Matsuka, even laced with cruelty as it always is. So he treads softly, metaphorically speaking. When Matsuka opens the door, he does not glare; he merely glances up, his gaze distant and inscrutable. "Enter." He closes the laptop; there will be no showing double-edged plans to Matsuka today.
* * *
Matsuka steps meekly in, and closes the door behind him. He comes no farther into the room, however; instead he waits where he is, watching Keith with a slightly bowed head, waiting to hear why he's been called.
* * *
In truth, Keith doesn't have a specific reason for calling Matsuka other than to gauge where his loyalties now lie. But gently--at least, more gently than usual. "Do the Mu remain here?" Just that. No questions about what they're doing or what their weaknesses are. Only if they're still here.
* * *
"I--" Matsuka falters a little over his reply, looking down at the floor. "I don't know for sure. I haven't heard anything about them leaving, but..." He closes his eyes, swallows unhappily. "They don't talk to me any more," he finishes quietly.
* * *
"But you've been listening. Good." It's the closest thing Matsuka gets to a pat on the head. Keith is not unaware of the subtext in those quiet statements, though, and he sees his chance to dig the knife into Matsuka a little. Make his anger fester. Remind him that Keith is not just the savior but the enemy. "That's unfortunate. I thought monsters were protective of their own--"
His breath hitches uncharacteristically.
* * *
Those words draw a flinch from Matsuka; when he looks up, his eyes are not angry but wounded and sad. "Do you really still think of us as monsters?" he asks, voice quiet but insistent. "Haven't you seen yet? The Mu here only wish to live in peace. They've proved that they can coexist with humans here..." He hesitates, but compulsion pushes the rest of the words out of him: "Better than you can."
* * *
Why? Why isn't there anger in those eyes? Keith used to be able to draw out anger from Matsuka. What happened to that ability? He pursues it doggedly, even now. "You'll always be monsters," he forces himself to say. It's strange that he has to force himself, though. Normally something like that would be easy to toss out.
And then Matsuka speaks again. Keith's eyes widen almost imperceptibly. He knows he should be glad to see that Matsuka still has the spark to defy him a little bit, that he's still performing that tortured balancing act. But right now--something is wrong. Keith is having trouble coming up with a way of brushing off those words. "The truth remains," he says, somewhat haltingly. Then the words are spilling out of him. "It's that coexistence which is the threat. The potential for what they could teach humanity. Because you are--we are--"
He chokes on his words for a moment, his mouth curling down in an unusually expressive grimace, and then he sweeps a hand across his desk, flinging his network device away, just in case. And just in time, too, because the words burst out anyway. "Because I am the monster. The final evolution of the cage humanity made for itself."
* * *
"Keith..." Matsuka's voice is hushed, and his eyes, too, have gone wide, surprise washing over his face - surprise and compassion. "...That's what you truly believe? But - that world, and that cage - they aren't here."
* * *
"...yes." His voice is rough with the struggle to keep it from escaping. "There isn't any escape. Not while humanity is itself. The only ends are destruction or confinement. I--" Keith doesn't want to say what's coming next. He really doesn't. "I never wanted to be Keith Anyan. I don't want to live as Keith Anyan any longer than I have to." Uncharacteristic emotions play over his face, a great war amongst fury, self-loathing, and desperation. "When it's time, you're going to--"
He slams a hand down on his desk. "Enough! I'm not under my own control." Funny, how he doesn't have to struggle to say that, even with this strange compulsion to speak the truth gripping him. "Matsuka! Look for the source of what's compromising me!"
And that's when the cockroaches swarm out from the corner of the room where the network device landed and head directly for Keith.
* * *
It snaps Matsuka out of the stunned silence with which he'd answered Keith's confession - faster than the eye can follow, he is across the room and between Keith and the bugs, throwing out a hand to create a wave of telekinetic force that scatters the roaches and crushes most of them instantly.
In the next moment, he stops himself, abruptly confused. "But - they're just insects..."
* * *
Keith moves fast. By the time Matsuka is pausing to take in just what's attacking, he's found the thing he thought he saw earlier, when he was cleaning. The "insect." A tiny metallic thing clamped to his lower calf, just below the hem of his pants. It starts to disengage as he reaches for it, but not fast enough. He rips it out of his own skin without a flinch and crushes it in his hand. "...spies. They should be more subtle."
And something occurs to him. Something about the things Matsuka said before. "Look for yours." If Matsuka has one on him, Keith can change the focus, berate Matsuka for falling to it, avoid talking about the things he said.
* * *
"...on me?" For a moment Matsuka just looks confused at Keith, but then he begins hesitantly checking himself, pushing back his sleeves and gingerly patting himself over. He finds it when he reaches to feel the back of his neck, just under his collar, and catches it in his fingers before it quite manages to skitter away.
He holds it up, looking at it bemusedly. "This?"
* * *
The disdainful stare is back. The coldness that Keith is so good at. "How long would it have taken you to notice that thing?" A faint, dismissive smirk. "You're already used to telling the truth. A weakness."
* * *
Matsuka avoids Keith's eyes, flushing a little in embarrassment; he stares at the little mechanical thing between his fingertips instead. Gradually a few things are becoming a little more clear to him. "So that's why..."
* * *
Good. The conversation is back on Matsuka. Keith suspects he won't like to hear what's coming next, but it'll be a lot better than talking about the things he said. "Explain."
* * *
...eep. Matsuka looks dismayed again, and a little guilty, his attention pulled away from the bug by Keith's clipped voice. "Ah--" He was going to have to explain at some point, but it still isn't going to be easy. "I - I said something about your order to observe the Mu. I didn't mean to - I didn't know that Ryou's communicator was broadcasting--"
Keith looks down at the remains of the electronic bug in his hand. "It took you so easily." He glances back up, sharply, and now his gaze is dismissive. "Leave. I'll find other uses for you later. You're clearly unsuited as a spy. Should I have more of these made for me instead?" Smirking, he drops the crushed remnants onto his desk. He'll have to clean again.
* * *
Suitably shamed, Matsuka begins to turn away - but then he hesitates. "Keith..." he ventures quietly. "You know... it doesn't have to be that way."
* * *
It's a good thing the bug is off him, or Keith would say what he really thinks: that it does have to be this way. That there's no other way for it to be. He is what Mother Eliza raised him to be and what Grandmother expects him to be, no matter how much he hates it.
Instead, he simply repeats, "Matsuka. Leave."
* * *
What else can he do? Matsuka leaves without another word, closing the door softly behind him. He has a lot to think about.
WHERE: Keith's apartment at the MAC.
WHEN: Right around now.
WARNINGS: Keith being abusive to Matsuka. Forced honesty.
SUMMARY: The truth bug bites Keith. Hard.
FORMAT: Prose.
Any dust that collected in Keith's apartment during his absence has been whisked away. He refuses to compromise efficiency with such things--after all, the primitive technology of this era can be clogged by dust. But put the image of Keith with a feather-duster out of your mind; he just went around with a cloth and a can of compressed air.
That was an hour ago. Right now, Keith is sitting at his desk behind his laptop, looking thoughtfully at a corner. He could have sworn, while he was cleaning, that he saw some kind of insect there, but later he couldn't find it to crush and remove it...
Never mind. It's not important. What's important is establishing his return. His services to the police force are a secondary concern right now. The important thing is discovering what's been happening with the Mu, and to do that, he has to talk to Matsuka. He doesn't doubt that Matsuka will offer resistance: the presence of Bakura and the other Mu have given him an escape that he never had at Keith's side in their world. Keith will have to tread carefully.
He reaches out with his mind. Matsuka. Not a mental dagger this time, no scorn in the tone of his inner voice. Just a command.
* * *
Matsuka has been quiet since his return to the MAC - well, this is not new. More significantly, he has been not just quiet but actively on edge, skittish and wary of Keith in a way he has not been often since early in their acquaintance. He almost seems to be holding his breath in Keith's presence, waiting with wide eyes for a blow.
Nevertheless, he answers the command as always, quietly presenting himself at Keith's door and knocking lightly before, after a moment's pause, venturing to open it and peek inside.
* * *
Really, that makes this easier on Keith. He can tell that as things are, for whatever reason, the slightest kindness will seem like a blessing to Matsuka, even laced with cruelty as it always is. So he treads softly, metaphorically speaking. When Matsuka opens the door, he does not glare; he merely glances up, his gaze distant and inscrutable. "Enter." He closes the laptop; there will be no showing double-edged plans to Matsuka today.
* * *
Matsuka steps meekly in, and closes the door behind him. He comes no farther into the room, however; instead he waits where he is, watching Keith with a slightly bowed head, waiting to hear why he's been called.
* * *
In truth, Keith doesn't have a specific reason for calling Matsuka other than to gauge where his loyalties now lie. But gently--at least, more gently than usual. "Do the Mu remain here?" Just that. No questions about what they're doing or what their weaknesses are. Only if they're still here.
* * *
"I--" Matsuka falters a little over his reply, looking down at the floor. "I don't know for sure. I haven't heard anything about them leaving, but..." He closes his eyes, swallows unhappily. "They don't talk to me any more," he finishes quietly.
* * *
"But you've been listening. Good." It's the closest thing Matsuka gets to a pat on the head. Keith is not unaware of the subtext in those quiet statements, though, and he sees his chance to dig the knife into Matsuka a little. Make his anger fester. Remind him that Keith is not just the savior but the enemy. "That's unfortunate. I thought monsters were protective of their own--"
His breath hitches uncharacteristically.
* * *
Those words draw a flinch from Matsuka; when he looks up, his eyes are not angry but wounded and sad. "Do you really still think of us as monsters?" he asks, voice quiet but insistent. "Haven't you seen yet? The Mu here only wish to live in peace. They've proved that they can coexist with humans here..." He hesitates, but compulsion pushes the rest of the words out of him: "Better than you can."
* * *
Why? Why isn't there anger in those eyes? Keith used to be able to draw out anger from Matsuka. What happened to that ability? He pursues it doggedly, even now. "You'll always be monsters," he forces himself to say. It's strange that he has to force himself, though. Normally something like that would be easy to toss out.
And then Matsuka speaks again. Keith's eyes widen almost imperceptibly. He knows he should be glad to see that Matsuka still has the spark to defy him a little bit, that he's still performing that tortured balancing act. But right now--something is wrong. Keith is having trouble coming up with a way of brushing off those words. "The truth remains," he says, somewhat haltingly. Then the words are spilling out of him. "It's that coexistence which is the threat. The potential for what they could teach humanity. Because you are--we are--"
He chokes on his words for a moment, his mouth curling down in an unusually expressive grimace, and then he sweeps a hand across his desk, flinging his network device away, just in case. And just in time, too, because the words burst out anyway. "Because I am the monster. The final evolution of the cage humanity made for itself."
* * *
"Keith..." Matsuka's voice is hushed, and his eyes, too, have gone wide, surprise washing over his face - surprise and compassion. "...That's what you truly believe? But - that world, and that cage - they aren't here."
* * *
"...yes." His voice is rough with the struggle to keep it from escaping. "There isn't any escape. Not while humanity is itself. The only ends are destruction or confinement. I--" Keith doesn't want to say what's coming next. He really doesn't. "I never wanted to be Keith Anyan. I don't want to live as Keith Anyan any longer than I have to." Uncharacteristic emotions play over his face, a great war amongst fury, self-loathing, and desperation. "When it's time, you're going to--"
He slams a hand down on his desk. "Enough! I'm not under my own control." Funny, how he doesn't have to struggle to say that, even with this strange compulsion to speak the truth gripping him. "Matsuka! Look for the source of what's compromising me!"
And that's when the cockroaches swarm out from the corner of the room where the network device landed and head directly for Keith.
* * *
It snaps Matsuka out of the stunned silence with which he'd answered Keith's confession - faster than the eye can follow, he is across the room and between Keith and the bugs, throwing out a hand to create a wave of telekinetic force that scatters the roaches and crushes most of them instantly.
In the next moment, he stops himself, abruptly confused. "But - they're just insects..."
* * *
Keith moves fast. By the time Matsuka is pausing to take in just what's attacking, he's found the thing he thought he saw earlier, when he was cleaning. The "insect." A tiny metallic thing clamped to his lower calf, just below the hem of his pants. It starts to disengage as he reaches for it, but not fast enough. He rips it out of his own skin without a flinch and crushes it in his hand. "...spies. They should be more subtle."
And something occurs to him. Something about the things Matsuka said before. "Look for yours." If Matsuka has one on him, Keith can change the focus, berate Matsuka for falling to it, avoid talking about the things he said.
* * *
"...on me?" For a moment Matsuka just looks confused at Keith, but then he begins hesitantly checking himself, pushing back his sleeves and gingerly patting himself over. He finds it when he reaches to feel the back of his neck, just under his collar, and catches it in his fingers before it quite manages to skitter away.
He holds it up, looking at it bemusedly. "This?"
* * *
The disdainful stare is back. The coldness that Keith is so good at. "How long would it have taken you to notice that thing?" A faint, dismissive smirk. "You're already used to telling the truth. A weakness."
* * *
Matsuka avoids Keith's eyes, flushing a little in embarrassment; he stares at the little mechanical thing between his fingertips instead. Gradually a few things are becoming a little more clear to him. "So that's why..."
* * *
Good. The conversation is back on Matsuka. Keith suspects he won't like to hear what's coming next, but it'll be a lot better than talking about the things he said. "Explain."
* * *
...eep. Matsuka looks dismayed again, and a little guilty, his attention pulled away from the bug by Keith's clipped voice. "Ah--" He was going to have to explain at some point, but it still isn't going to be easy. "I - I said something about your order to observe the Mu. I didn't mean to - I didn't know that Ryou's communicator was broadcasting--"
Keith looks down at the remains of the electronic bug in his hand. "It took you so easily." He glances back up, sharply, and now his gaze is dismissive. "Leave. I'll find other uses for you later. You're clearly unsuited as a spy. Should I have more of these made for me instead?" Smirking, he drops the crushed remnants onto his desk. He'll have to clean again.
* * *
Suitably shamed, Matsuka begins to turn away - but then he hesitates. "Keith..." he ventures quietly. "You know... it doesn't have to be that way."
* * *
It's a good thing the bug is off him, or Keith would say what he really thinks: that it does have to be this way. That there's no other way for it to be. He is what Mother Eliza raised him to be and what Grandmother expects him to be, no matter how much he hates it.
Instead, he simply repeats, "Matsuka. Leave."
* * *
What else can he do? Matsuka leaves without another word, closing the door softly behind him. He has a lot to think about.