[ open ] welcome, dreamer, to the new dream

[paradisefraught]

 Buzz, buzz. Buzz, buzz.

Akira, holding onto the train pole with one hand, fishes out his phone. It's that one group chat again, huh...he swipes at it, getting the ghost notifications off his screen. Futaba won't let him leave it, even though like, half the messages are just random blank texts...and she was weird about it...it's part of her software testing, right?

The train rumbles. His phone buzzes. The world settles.

Right. The metal is cold against his left palm; he can feel it through the leather. Futaba likes programming. She does this kind of thing all the time. Isshiki-san isn't here to rein her in. She's on a business trip. Futaba misses her.

Buzz, buzz. Bu--


Missing your parents...Akira can't relate. If anything, his dad, Takuto...nah. Akira loves his dad.

Hey, dad. I'm on the train right now. Can you imagine a world where everyone who needed one could always get a seat? That's part of your research, right?

Hazy memories of toddling around an academic conference, youngest there by far, researchers taking an interest in such a young kid, and--

Message not sent. Retry?

Huh? Akira taps the retry button.

Nothing happens.

Maybe...the metro has iffy wi-fi connection sometimes, doesn't it? He just needs to get off the train and...

The room is blue. It's so blue. His lone gloved hand, grasping nothing, falls limp by his side.

This...isn't the train station.

Comments

[paradisefraught]

"Uh...yeah?" Morning cocks his head. "Why wouldn't he? Research grants pay for research, not raising a kid..." he kicks at the floor under the table. "He liked watching me react to his research...even if I stuck a ton of pens in my mouth. Reportedly."

[takutomaruki]

Maruki's lips curled to the side as he finally unfurled his sandwich and stares down at the bread. He gets one of the sauce packets and proceeds to dissect the poor food while adding in his preferred combination of sauces because god forbid these guys actually add enough to even make the food taste like something. Next time, he's making some Japanese breakfast.

He chuckles at the mention of the pens. "Well, knowing your older self from my world- you have always been too curious. Albeit too reckless." As reckless as going to a Palace right before the school entrance. He could only imagine how stressful it must have been to balance his doctorate research while raising a kid.
"...How old were you during that little incident? Like any vague number or..."

[paradisefraught]

Nothing's wrong with Morning's food! It tastes very good. "Hmm...three? Four?"

[takutomaruki]

Three...four.

And if that conference happened when he was like what? In his mid 20s? Fresh out of college and now pursuing his doctorate that would have meant-

If he did the mathematics correctly, Akira would have been born around year 1999 to year 2000; somewhere after he freshly graduated from college or late into his third year. He remembered, dating someone else when he and Rumi had went through a really rough patch so that would mean that Akira could have been a product of one of his other hasty relationships.

"Oh god," his eyes widened. He leaned back into his chair, looking up at the ceiling and resting his arm on his eyes as if he were finally mourning a loss. "I can see the mess now. Though it could still just be someone else but-"

He leaned forward and plucked his glasses from his eyes. "Yeah I never won any arguments against her. That's part of why we broke up," he confesses to no one in particular. Or his son. Not-son.

And he has actualization on him, as if further emphasizing how he knows his other alternate universe self does not know how to take care of children. This is a problem.

[paradisefraught]

It takes Morning a moment to process who exactly not-Dad is referring to, but when he does...

The glove creaks on his right palm. His eyes are suddenly stuck to the floor. "I met her. Once." The leather against his palm is cool. "I got that impression, too."

Real Dad had always spoken of her in such a harsh way, but all of the moms on TV were nice and loving, and he thought they weren't married because of silly grown-up stuff...

...she wasn't. Nice and loving. And they weren't married for a good reason. Not a silly grown-up one.

You called someone else Mom instead.

Who?

Silence.

[takutomaruki]

Okay, something is fishy here.

Maruki narrows his eyes subtly as he goes for his sandwich and takes a bite from it. He doesn't get to linger on its taste for too long, his lips already pressed in a disconcerting way. He contemplated the chances of the face conjuring up in Morning's head.

He sighs, rubbing the back of his hair with his other clean hand. "I have to say- I think I would have preferred taking care of a child with zero experience then living under the same roof as her again. If we are even talking about the same person."

Almost instictively, he leaned forward and spoke with a small comforting smile. "Akira? Hey, she's not here anymore."

"You can rest easy."

[paradisefraught]

A moment passes. Akira's ungloved hand reaches out, as if seeking support, before he shakes himself out of it.

"Thank you. I don't think I would've...liked. Living with her..." he's still so, so grateful Dad took him in. "I was young, so I'm probably remembering her worse than she was..."

Another moment passes, where Morning just takes a breath.

"Have you ever made an apple pie?"

[takutomaruki]

Maruki notices that gesture but he doesn't reach out. Not yet. It felt wrong, too wrong on so many levels that it left him spiralling for answers that seemed out of reach.

Yet they were right before him. His flesh and blood in some other world.

"Pyschologically speaking," he starts- keeping his tone even and gentle, "That isn't unusual. Our memories are deeply tied to our emotions, and they’re not perfect recordings of what happened. They’re like stories we write and rewrite- depending on the circumstances we are forced to face."

He looks down at his food, suddenly not feeling as hungry as he should.

The question however, catches him off guard.

"...I have. Sort of," he squaints as he recalls through his memories. "It turned out horrible when I first attempted it so I never made it again."

"Why do you ask?"

[paradisefraught]

Rewriting our memories, rewriting our reality. Right! Akira nods and laughs a bit. "After...she...left, Dad tried making me an apple pie. To cheer me up. It ended just about as bad as you think."

[takutomaruki]

"...!"

Maruki looks away, a hesitant smile inching on his face. "Did he...now?"

"I won't deny its quality," he huffs into the air. "..still, I am glad that he did what he could to support you."

"It feels weird because I am talking about myself, aren't I?"

[paradisefraught]

"It's...not you." Akira deflates a bit. "It's just a different version of you. There are a ton of mes here that aren't me, y'know? It's not...you're not my you."

[takutomaruki]

"Right," he didn't try to pretend that those words eased him a little. Thankfully. Even at this Akira's deflation. "That is right. I can't replace your father."

He let out a wry chuckle. "You know what is the worst part about this all?"

[paradisefraught]

Me?

The thought flies in and out of his brain like a slight breeze, leaving no trace behind.

"Not being able to do your research?"

[takutomaruki]

Hm.

"Oh no," he shakes his head. "I think I am getting my research done in a stead-fast manner- even with the complications I am currently starting to realize."

As if that isn't the understatement of the century.

"In a way...I suppose I am not doing my research the way I wish for it to happen."

He took a bite of his sandwich. "The worst part is that I am the only one here. Surrounded by different versions of you. Forced to come to terms with what my other selves could have done."

"Our situations are vastly different from each other."

[paradisefraught]

Me.

He'stheonlykidintheroomagainhe'swonderingwhyMomdoesn'tlovehimhe'swonderingwhyhisfriendsthinkhe'ssoweirdhejustwantsthemtobehappy

"I...see."

And if this is how he feels...he never wants anyone else to feel this way, ever. A world without pain, a world where no one has to be unwanted-- yes. He sets his right, gloved hand on his lap and digs his fingers into his thigh. This is what he works toward with his dad.

A not-so-strange peace washes over him. What was he thinking about, again? "How's your research coming along?"

[takutomaruki]

Maruki looks at him carefully, his warm gaze becoming fleetingly obvious while trying to focus on his food.
He suddenly doesn't have much of an appetite for whatever reason.

What he doesn’t understand is the presence of Azathoth within this Akira. Or some of the painfully obvious strange words and behaviors the man displays.

When the question follows up again his eyes widen- now feeling like he was once again sitting across Akira back in his own office. "It’s really thanks to the version of you in my world that I managed to come this far," he says. "And I am sure you helped your father in every way you can."

"I have a lab too now. In Odaiba. I can manipulate reality in a localised level- it's just.."

"...honestly something out of a comic book." He raises an index after snapping his fingers, as if catching the reference he was about to make. "Or something like a videogame."

[paradisefraught]

Akira pops up out of his chair at the mention of Odaiba. "My dad's always wanted a lab! Can we go see yours? Please? Pleeeeease, Dr. Maruki? I promise I can be on my best behavior! Dad even lets me help with his papers at home! Do you have any tests I can take? I love doing tests!"

[takutomaruki]

Maruki nearly toppled out of his chair, bracing himself against the table to steady the sudden swirl of emotions. His gaze darted to Akira, the boy’s enthusiasm practically vibrating off him, his words spilling out in a rush.

"I—" he started, his voice faltering as his brain scrambled to keep up.

The sheer brightness in Akira’s eyes made him pause. Was this genuine? A trick? Maruki wasn’t sure whether to be unnerved by the unbridled enthusiasm or overwhelmed by the rare sense of validation it brought. For a fleeting moment, he felt like a young researcher again, fumbling through his first presentation, unsure if his audience would be impressed or unimpressed—or, as it often turned out, indifferent.

"You... really want to see it?" he asked finally, his voice tinged with disbelief. He blinked, half-expecting Akira to laugh and tell him it was all a joke.

But he doesn't. He barrels on even further.

"Well," Maruki began, adjusting his glasses as a faint smile spread across his face, "I suppose... I don’t get many chances to show it off to someone who’s actually interested." Aside from Midnight and a few others who are neutral to him. He chuckled softly, a bit of his unease melting into something closer to wonder. "It’s not every day I meet someone who doesn’t just dismiss my work as... idealistic or misguided."

[paradisefraught]

"Your work is valuable! Dad says the same thing -- people just don't understand." His eyes are wide, grey, and for a moment, almost clear instead of their normal cloudiness. "Please! Show me! Show me!!"

[takutomaruki]

Maruki's lips pull almost into a hesitant line between a pout and a smile, watching the young boy practically beaming at him as he praised his research.

"Okay," he stifles a chuckle as he raises his hands and watches as some of the cognitive customers stare at them. "I will give you a little sneak peek then," he winks mischievously as he leans forward and gestures Akira to sit down again.

"I am reading really interesting things about cognition. It's the very fabric of our existence. The way we perceive things," he starts and gestures at his half eaten sandwich. "Now I am not hungry anymore so there would not be any point for me to get a full sandwich but-!"

"I can see you like those muffins a lot. I could simply..." he picks up the muffin- carefully stare down at it then look back at Akira with the shy blueprints of Azathoth on him. "Manifest more for you."

He snaps his fingers as the half eaten muffin shifts back to its original state.

"You don’t ever have to go hungry. If you believe in my research you can forever enjoy the dessert you wish to have."

And perhaps never get stressed enough to turn to sweets in the first place!

"And that's not even the start of it."

[paradisefraught]

"Yes!!!" Akira's practically jumping up and down, cheering. "My dad can do that, too! Kind of..." The manifested muffin is gone within moments, and Akira grabs onto Maruki's coat, practically tugging him to Odaiba. "We're gonna change the world!"

[takutomaruki]

Maruki watches Akira practically inhale the muffin like it was nothing but meagre air. His smile twitches slightly, aghast as he lets out a wry chuckle.

Something feels wrong.

He has always worked alone and while he was always grateful for his patients for believing in his cause- it was well, always within the walls of his clinic. Always related to the problems the others faced.

This was-

This was too new.

Like it was willing to cut right through his being and make him choke on the elixir he's searching for all this damn time.

"Okay-! I need you to pipe it down a little-" he stops and when he feels the tug on his coat Maruki actually nearly gets up his seat.

"Please let go of my coat, Akira." His words come undeniably harsh against the boy's blind optimism. "It’s not exactly the most glamorous place, mind you—labs rarely are. But...” Maruki hesitated, then gave Akira a thoughtful look, a small twinkle of excitement creeping into his expression. “If you’re really interested, I’d be more than happy to show you. In fact, there are a few experiments I’ve been meaning to run, and with your help, maybe we could get some fascinating results."

"But for now...there's another test I need both of us to do."

[paradisefraught]

Morning shrinks back, sheepish, at Not-Dad's words. "I know they're not glamorous...sorry..." he mumbles. "Probably wasn't showing you that I can be trusted in a lab, there..."

His fingers grip to Dr. Maruki's lab coat for a few lingering moments before he fully pries them loose.

"But...tests! I can't wait to do tests! What kind of test do you want to do first? I'm so excited!"

1/2

[takutomaruki]

Maruki’s unease grew as Akira’s grip on his lab coat lingered longer than necessary. He stared down at the boy’s hands, feeling the warmth of the touch and the sheer weight of trust that came with it. It was almost suffocating. This boy’s unwavering belief—so blindingly pure—was both awe-inspiring and deeply unsettling.

Whoever, or whatever, had brought this child into existence had done something extraordinary. It was both terrifying and humbling, and Maruki felt an odd ache in his chest that he didn’t know how to process. Parental instinct? Guilt? Curiosity?

He let out a slow breath, forcing himself to soften his gaze. “I… I’m not sure how to process this, Akira. It's not about trust its...” His voice was quiet, almost too quiet. But he managed to muster a small smile at the boy’s unrelenting excitement.

“Funny thing, though,” he began, trying to lighten the mood. “This might sound like a cliché, but... let’s start with the basics. You know, science stuff. Who doesn’t love a good experiment?”

2/2

[takutomaruki]

Hours later.

The scene cut to a small, sterile hospital office. Maruki sat beside Morning, pinching the bridge of his nose, wondering how his “basic experiment” had somehow escalated into a literal paternity test. The awkwardness was suffocating, and the amused side-eye from the nurse wasn’t helping.

“Alright, Dr. Maruki,” the doctor said, stepping in with a clipboard. “The results are back.”

Maruki tensed, clasping his hands together in his lap. “Okay... let’s hear it.”

The doctor cleared his throat dramatically, clearly enjoying the theatricality of the moment far too much. “According to the test, you are, without a doubt...”

“...100% this boy’s biological father.”

There was a long silence.