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Who: Gladion and Chikusa
When: Backdated to 7/10
Where: The flower shop where Chikusa is working
What: Following up from here.

Not for the first time since he asked to talk, Gladion wonders what he's even doing. In all honesty, he's not sure what he wants out of this conversation, or why he wants to ask in the first place. It only feels that much odder when he walks into the flower shop that isn't the one his dad owns, knowing the person whose family does own it is the one who'd been most vocal about arguing with Chikusa on the network.

But he was the one who asked to talk, so he's here, and looking around slightly awkwardly at the flowers since he hasn't immediately spotted Chikusa.

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At least the good news is that, while he'd rather lay face down than work, Chikusa is committed. He was in the back putting something away, but he shuffles out when he hears the door cling. While he's expecting a customer... Gladion was invited today too, so he gives a nod to him.

"Hey." As if they still aren't at an awkward stage or anything. This is fine.

"Hey."

Nope, not awkward at all. Not when he's still barely been talking to someone who used to be his best friend when they both thought they were normal people, and that best friend just sparked a huge debate about whether or not it might be okay to kill government officials or whoever else. Not the slightest bit awkward.

"There's probably a better place to talk than out here, right?"

So they've both nailed it is what Chikusa is hearing.

Still, he understands what Gladion is saying. There's a time and place, and in the front area of a still open shop in the daytime when everyone tries to cram their business in because of the curfew.... Yeah. Not it. So he nods to the back, shuffling over and leading the way to a small storeroom. It's a bit cramped, brimming with the smell of earth, but it does well enough. Sagging onto a small stack of fertilizer, he inclines his head in Gladion's direction.

"What did you want to talk about...?"

Of course, he can't answer that question without it definitely being awkward. So for a moment, he's silent, trying to figure out what to say--and briefly glancing back to the door as if trying to make sure no one's spontaneously appeared on the other side of it to eavesdrop--before deciding there's no good way to ask this question other than just saying it. He turns to face Chikusa again.

"Why are you so calm about the idea of killing people?"

There's really nothing that can make this situation less awkward- or at least none that Chikusa has thought of. So he's mostly surrendered himself to the silence that drags on between the two of them, fingers loosely linked together. Out of all the questions he could have expected.... The one that finally comes has him pause, blinking slowly.

Then again, it's not as if anyone has actually bothered to ask. It's only ever been "murder is bad" so far, a sentiment full of moral bullshit that grates at him.

...Well. Maybe there was a reason Ciro was friends with Asher.

"It's... a few reasons," he manages after a little bit, words slow and quiet, but just as calm as his words on the app had been. "I guess to start... I've had to do it for years now, so..." His shoulders rise up, barely recognizable as a shrug. "When something happens enough... You get used to it, don't you?"

At least he didn't react badly to the question. Gladion honestly wasn't sure if he would. True, no one had asked, but most of the others who argued that point had volunteered something about why they thought that way. Chikusa hadn't. It's why Gladion had decided to ask in private, considering he had every reason to understand someone not wanting to talk about their past on a public forum.

The question of exactly why he cared what the answer was was the one he was still trying to work out.

When he gets that answer, he's not sure how to respond to it, though he's likewise resigned to this conversation being full of awkward silence. It leads to so many more questions, but he's not sure how much he wants to pry. When he finally settles on something, it's quiet and calm in return. "It must have been a lot if you can say it that way."

"I suppose." There's really no running from it. They hadn't been in the business- as much as murder could really be called that- long enough to to rack up the highest headcount... But they'd made a name for themselves fast enough.

That counts for something when they'd only started before becoming teenagers, and nothing but what they could take for themselves.

After a second, however, he follows up. "It'd been something we'd been born into... So it wasn't as if we had a choice from the start. The only thing that made it different... was deciding how we would do it for ourselves and no one else." A soft puff of a sigh escapes him. "If Ken was here, he'd blab about the whole thing easily..."

"For yourself?" That earns a raised eyebrow. On one hand, he can understand the sentiment, being the boy who stole his mom's research project and ran away from home when he was 12. On the other hand, he can't imagine...

Chikusa lapses into silence again, quietly debating on how much he should say. Honestly, his first inclination about his past is to tell others that it's none of their business. It'd only draw pity, at best, after all... It really is Ken who is the type to spill everything. Chikusa had simply never stopped him.

But this... Maybe...

"...You know what the mafia is.... Right?" With Asher's memories, he would hope so.

He nods. "Only from here, though. There's nothing quite like that where I'm from." There was Team Skull, and things in other areas that he'd heard were similar to them, but that's different.

"That was what we were part of as far back as I can remember." Another sort-of shrug, this one even more half-assed considering he only uses one shoulder for it. "Born into a mafia Family...." A pause and he adds, "Probably."

It's not like he can remember, after all. Maybe it was trauma, maybe he never really knew his parents at all, but the only thing Chikusa can remember is white. White labs, white labcoats, the white of the bandages wrapped around his head and the sheets they occasionally tossed over corpses to lazily keep them out of sight... He has to admit that there's a good possibility that he was never actually of Estraneo blood. He might not even be truly Italian.

Well. It's not like it matters now.

"So, even ignoring anything else... That kind of setting... It's not one that lets people be soft."

He catches that "probably" but he's not going to question it. He just nods, and sits down onto another pile of things that seems sturdy enough. Even if he can't quite imagine that, being warped by the environment you grew up in is something he understands well enough. It's a lot of why he is how he is. Somehow Lillie managed to come out less corrupted, but in her own way, she's probably stronger than he is.

He's quiet again for a moment, thinking, about that and about the current situation. "You wouldn't do it unless it was the only option, right?"

That's where he has to pause again, because... "I wouldn't do it if I thought it would make things worse," he admits, slowly but not exactly shamefully. After all-

"This kind of thing.... I don't want it to ever happen again." Slowly, almost so much so as to not be noticed until he's all the way there, he lets his head loll to the side. "Others who argued against it say that there's ways other than killing the source... Other solutions. But there's never something they can answer, and it's this: how can you be certain that they won't go after you again?"

And it's because that's not possible. At least, not without being just about as bad as death. People, whether a regular teenage murderer or a ghost from centuries past or someone who can see into multiple worlds, are all the same in that manner. You can't guarantee some one else's actions or feelings.

"Even if someone says to put them into prison, well... People can break out of those." Another shrug. They are steadily declining in effort and visibility. "I did."

That last earns a questioning look, but again, he won't ask. He won't pry unless he has a reason to.

He turns his gaze to the floor. "I don't think putting someone in jail here would be too easy, either. Even if they were behind all of this, we'd just sound nuts." There's something defeated-sounding in his voice as he says that; it's not that he thinks there's no way to get out of this situation, but still, what Chikusa's saying doesn't sit easy. He'd rather not believe that killing someone is actually the best option. And even then, there's the other side of it.

"What if that doesn't work, either, though? This whole thing is weird enough that I'm not sure it's that simple to stop whoever or whatever's behind it."

That much, he'll admit to, and Chikusa breathes out slowly as he leans against whatever is nearest to him. At least the storage room is crowded enough for that.

"In that case, if it can't be contained and it can't be killed... That's where it gets more complicated, annoyingly enough... But that's something we can't tell right now. It may be a question to ask Luci, or the ones in the Velvet Room. They're our only sources if we can't go with a simple action. Still..." Reaching up, he adjusts his glasses.

"We had to be given the.... resources we have been for a reason... The answer might be with those if it comes to that point."

"Yeah, I guess." There's a slight sigh. "There's a lot we don't know right now. I wonder if they'll actually give us any answers." Considering their sources have so far been pretty stingy with explaining any more than they felt was necessary at any given moment.

"If we don't get anything from them, that means having to try and investigate on our own.... But we'd be half blind from the get-go." Exactly what they all want, he's sure. "We can't even summon those creatures on our own yet... So that's the first step if nothing else."

He nods slowly. "It's somewhere to start." Not that he knows how. It seems like they only get access to those powers where there's some big crisis happening that means more of them awaken. But being able to control it seems like it might be very useful, if they can. But that's a whole other path of speculation, and at some point he should probably stop keeping someone who's supposed to be working stuck in a supply closet.

He looks back toward Chikusa. "Thanks. For answering my question. I'm not sure I really agree, but... I can't say you're wrong, either."

Despite the fact that it's a perfectly normal thing to do, Chikusa seems to grow almost awkward as he's thanked. His fingers fiddle slowly with each other, twisting and curling. "It's fine," he says, a little stiff.

Getting up slowly, he takes the time to compose some of his other thoughts. "That's.... mostly all I can ask for. It became kind of obvious after a while that the things we did wouldn't be looked on favorably by most people..." You don't end up staying out of prison by being oblivious to common laws, after all. A sigh slips out of him. "But it does get tiring arguing with people..."

Thus why he gave up on one argument and asked to be paid for a longer explanation with another.

Upright now, he seems to hesitate a moment. "...Were you going to do anything else today?"

The reaction is noticeable, but not entirely unexpected. Gladion would probably react similarly if the roles were reversed. Still, he likes to give credit where it's due. Chikusa hadn't been obligated to tell him anything.

He stands up as well, giving Chikusa a slightly curious look at the question, then shaking his head. "No. Why?"

Another beat of silence, and Chikusa seems to gaze elsewhere. Honestly, he has no idea how to approach this: either the question he wants to ask or the strange mix of feelings and memories that connect and separate two different identities.

"....I have lunch break in a little over an hour..."

Ah, so that's what the question was. He's not quite sure what to feel about it, either, but he doesn't mind it either. In fact, there's a slight hint of a smile.

"Heh. You better not spend that time gushing over that actor you used to like." It's really weird for the words coming out of his mouth to sound simultaneously completely natural and very awkward to him, but that's probably the territory of having had two separate lives.

Edited 2017-08-12 00:26 (UTC)

Aw, look. Now he's started to actually emote, because that's the closest thing to a sulk that will ever show up on his face.

"I'm not the type to do that.... and the movies were good anyway..."

"They weren't bad." He'll give him that much. For all that Ciro was overly enthusiastic, he never really minded watching them. Even if that's a bit odd to think about now that he knows neither of them were themselves when all that happened.

"If you're still working for a while, I guess I'll come back and meet you when you get off." He's already distracted Chikusa from work for a while, and if he's left to his own devices, he'd rather not spend his time hanging around a flower shop.

As he steps back out into the main shop area again, Chikusa gives a quiet huff. "They were a little more than that..." At least, even with his proper memories in place, there's still those fond memories that come from such movies.

He settles at the counter, easing up a bit and nodding. "Then... I'll see you later?" A part of him feels just a little... anxious, perhaps, at the idea. Is he excited? Unsure? Well, it's too late now. He supposes he's committed.

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