1963-11-14 - Digging For Skeletons
Summary: Akihiro is found by an old friend(?) from his Weapon X days, who proceeds to help him liven up his evening by relieving some of the worst moments of his life.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None' — please, don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
akihiro natasha 


Old habits die hard. Akihiro may be giving up on all the violence, but he's not going to give up honky tonking just yet. So it's not really a huge surprise when he enters the dive and heads straight for the jukebox in the back, pressing a few buttons and causing Hank Williams to sing about a tear in his beer. From there he orders himself a drink, which he takes to a booth near the pool tables.

*

Given Gretchen Steingate's ongoing position within the reformed Weapon X, following the trail of its agents to one of its former residents mainly required patience and a strong stomach. Akihiro's activities have shifted of late, however, leaving her to rely on witnesses and no small amount of instinct - the Duck is one of many dives she's dropped in on while canvassing for the young mutant - to keep tabs on him.

Of course, when she arrives maybe forty-five minutes after Akihiro, it's not much of an accident: after filling his order, the bartender waits a few ticks for the mutant to take his seat, saunters out back to carefully balance a bag of trash on the corner of his dumpster, then returns to his post to think about what he'll do with the fifty bucks that nice redhead promised him.

Dressed in a navy blouse, black pencil skirt, cream-colored sweater, black overcoat, and black pumps she heads for the bar to order herself a glass of scotch while nervously scanning her surroundings. Once she's been served(and the bartender generously tipped), she approaches Akihiro's booth, bringing a subtle perfume scent mingled with just a whiff of alleyway with her.

"Mr.Akihiro?" she questions with a gasp. "You're— you're still alive?"

*

"Oh don't act so surprised. You're good, but the nose knows." Akihiro can't help but flash Gretchen a grin and extend a hand to the empty seat across from him. "Besides, it's gonna take a lot more than anything they have at their disposal to stop me."

With that being said he takes a drink from his bottle. "Been a while since we spoke. Your cover holding up with the program? Hate to see how they react to knowing they've been had this entire time."

*

Gretchen briskly shakes her head as she casts her purse to the far end of the booth and slides in. "I had no idea," she said, brow furrowing. There's no shift in her heartrate, no increase in sweat, no physical tick— just eyes briskly moving over what can be seen of him to confirm that he is, indeed, well. "You were giving them fits, and then… nothing. There was a pool after a few days." A beat passes, and then she sits up a little straighter to hastily note that, "I didn't bet anything but there were certainly questions, given your… you."

After a long sip of brandy, she slowly exhales and lets her shoulders sag a bit. "If they do suspect anything," she whispers without bothering to lean any nearer. "they're doing an excellent job of hiding it: I'm still embedded post-transition. They've been cleaning house, people have been fleeing— it's a little wild, right now. What about… what about you?" Squinting, she reaches for her purse to fetch cigarettes and matches. "What actually happened to you? Are you well?"

*

Akihiro nods slowly. "That's good." He does lean forward slightly, but it's onto his elbows. "I got the bomb out of my skull. Took the fight to them." The beer is brought up for another drag, "But I'm done with all that. I just want some quiet, and as long as they don't take your lead and track me, that should be pretty easy to do. Hate to have to kill anybody else."

*

"Congratulations," whispers a faintly smiling Gretchen while lighting a cigarette. "I've never actually had a bomb in my skull, but I'm confident that I wouldn't enjoy it." Another cig is flicked free and offered across the table. "And the— the urges? For trouble, for violence? How are you doing with those?" She draws a deep lungful and lets it mellow for a while before letting it out in a narrow line.

"Because, disarrayed or not, they still exist, and— if you're happy with the way things are going now, that's gotta be difficult to reckon with, I imagine."

*

"Sometimes I get into bar fights. But I'm working on that." The teen replies, taking the cigarette with a thankful nod. "Meditation, practicing my nito-ryu, stuff like that. The only thing to do is hope that it all just blows over." Akihiro lifts his shoulders in a slight shrug, lighting up the cigarette and taking a few drags.

"I'm just not really worried about them. I only regret not killing them when I had the opportunity." He does seem rather calm, not letting any worry show whatsoever.

*

Gretchen nods along, offering little more than averted eyes and a small, uncertain smile for the notion that the Program might blow over. A swig is followed by couple of brisk puffs.

"Wouldn't've thought you'd be into all that Chinese secret mumbo jumbo, but maybe there's something to it, huh?" she finally says while letting one of those little clouds of smoke go. "I…"

A little more smoke escapes with a sigh.

"… am glad you're doing well, Akihiro. Your story, your situation - what I knew of them - really stuck with me. They took such advantage of you…" A shiver runs through her as she turns her eyes up to the ceiling and downs more scotch.

*

"You understand that I'm Japanese, right? A samurai on top of that, be a shame if I didn't know kendo." Akihiro can't help but arch a brow. "I just don't have an accent because of my time in Canada." He leans back once more, "Feels almost like I took advantage of them. They didn't really get anything useful out of me, but I have adamantium."

He takes more smoke into his lungs, holding it there.

"But I appreciate it. Nice having somebody on my fighting side." As the last word is spoken the smoke held in his lungs is released up towards the ceiling.

*

"I know most of those words," Gretchen mutters. Given that her volume is already set to 'conspiracy', the faintly flustered response would be inaudible if she were speaking to just about anyone else. "My apologies, though— I do in fact know that you're Japanese."

The glass is emptied, and after nudging her glasses up her nose, she clutches it between her hands while letting it rest on the table. "You're welcome," she begins with a hint of lightness, "but I still have questions, so you may want to reserve judgment for a few more minutes." A brisk sigh pushes the levity from her tone, and then she continues, "The biggest one being— what did they make you do? Before and after the treatment; we never talked much about the before, if you'll recall."

*

"Weapon X, or what I went through before coming to the states?" Akihiro asks, leaning forward once more to rest his chin in the palm of his hand. "The program didn't have me do anything, at least not until they stuck the bomb in my brain. Then it was more training and hit missions. Stuck that author in the hospital then went about dismantling anything they saw as a threat."

*

"You mentioned 'orders', the first time we spoke," Gretchen replies with a curious squint, "'doing whatever it takes to atone'— were you just pulling my leg? Speculating? I understand that this may be painful, just— if you killed for them, destroyed for them, then they absolutely did get something out of you. I don't want to make you feel guilty for doing what you had to do in a horrible situation"

One of her hands leaves the glass, tentatively seeking to rest against Akihiro's hand or arm.

"and it may be that whatever you did for them doesn't measure up to what they put in you; I don't know, obviously. I do know that anything you could tell me about what you did for them would be a huge help to understanding the full scope of what they're up to— even if you don't feel that you can tell me tonight." The cigarette burns down in her other hand, forgotten for now as she watches the mutant intently.

*

"They weren't giving me orders at that time. When they kidnapped me I was just interested in finding out who Laura was. Didn't even know Weapon X was a thing." Akihiro doesn't stop Gretchen from touching him, but he does sigh quietly. "I meant I felt I needed to atone for what happened to Natsumi, my adopted mother. She thought I killed Junichiro and attacked me, and I killed her. I didn't mean to, but I did."

He picks his up so he can take another drag from his cigarette. "I felt like the torture in Canada and getting kidnapped to work for Weapon X would somehow fix things. That every lost limb, every time I was shot, that those things would make it easier to forgive myself. But in truth? I just hate myself even more."

*

Gretchen's widening eyes don't budge from the young mutant as the long, gray tail hanging from her cigarette is gingerly tapped into a filthy metal tray; neither does her hand, at least until he forces it to budge by taking a drag. If anything, her grip tightens 'til then, fingers gently kneading in an effort to better transmit the sympathy welling in her eyes.

"My God, how could they…" she exhales in a trembling voice. What's left of the cigarette is hastily drawn into her lungs, then sharply jabbed and ground into the ashes. "Weaponizing that kind of pain, it's— it's a special kind of fucking monstrous." Her eyes widen a little more when the profanity slips, but shock melts back into sad outrage in short order. "I'm so sorry— it's just good that you were able to pull yourself free of their influence."

*

"Only because they lied to me." Akihiro admits, his own expression saddening slightly more. "They promised me Russian spies. If they'd actually delivered on that I'd likely be hunting for information on a certain Russian assassin."

"Nineteen-forty-five, Jasmin Falls. A hit from Madripoor was placed on a pregnant woman named Itsu. Her husband was Logan Howlett, and the child she was carrying at the time? That was me." He falls quiet once more, looking away.

"I just want to ask them why they did it. What made it alright to shoot a pregnant woman."

*

"What did they give you instead, if not— they told us that they were focused on stopping the Reds too," Gretchen softly replies, reaching to rub Akihiro's arm briefly before pulling back to light a fresh smoke. "God, what do they want…"

Her eyes list down as she takes a brief drag, but they're back on the mutant by the time she says, "Nothing could make what was done to you - your mother - alright; you're lucky to be alive." A slight pause, and then she amends, "In a manner of speaking, I suppose, considering your background," with a brief look of consternation. "But, either way: that you're trying to make a better life for yourself in spite of your past is wonderful."

*

"They may be. I think he was one of the reporters that picked the story up after the documents got leaked. Anybody that knows that much about it is a target. I think their main goal was just to weaponize mutants like myself. Guess having a soldier that grows limbs back and will live a few hundred years is a good investment." Akihiro turns his gaze back towards the ceiling, thinking quietly.

*

"Of course— covering their tracks," Gretchen says, disguising some annoyance at the second mention of the reporter. The rest, she simply nods along with, albeit numbly; now that he isn't talking about dead mothers, her eyes are again drifting down to the table as she listens. "Mitigating any further leaks." She takes a small drag, then says, "And, that's defintely a huge part of what they're about, but they're going to a lot of trouble just to have an army of mutants, if so— you know?" while stabbing the air with her cigarette now and again for emphasis. Shaking her head, she tacks on, "Regardless, you definitely have a point: the things they could've done with you…"

The cigarette is set to hang from her lips so she can pull a pen and notepad from her purse. Once she's taken down her name and phone number, she rips the page free and slides it over.

"Look, I know you're out of the fight, and that's— I absolutely understand that," she says while looking up at him. "But if you ever do come across, or remember anything— or if you need help, or— or if you just want to talk to someone, then please. By all means. "

*

Akihiro turns his attention to the page pushed in front of him, quietly looking at it for a few moments. "Of course," he flashes a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "thank you. That goes both ways too, if you need any sort of help feel free to find me." The paper is taken up and placed into his pocket. "Suppose I'll see you around then."

*

"Absolutely," Gretchen replies with half a smile and a more conventionally audible tone. "I guess I know where to find you now, huh?" The smile shrinks as she takes a last drag before stubbing the cigarette out. Once it's gone, she stands— but before actually leaving the booth, she leans across the table to give him a brisk and awkward peck on the cheek.

"I'm sorry," she softly says after pulling away. "About your circumstances, and about the things I've had to say about you and people like you to maintain my cover. I hope you're able to find the peace you're looking for."

*

"It's fine." Akihiro says with a wave of his hand. "You don't have to do it either. People like us, we aren't weapons, even if they keep treating us like them." With that he pushes up to his feet as well. "Stay safe out there."

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