faith isn't a fact; [info post]
timeline: post-Amane route by several years
Akemi wishes things had turned out differently. It's not something he tries to think about very often- he made his choices, and he can't take them back, he made his bed and now he has to lie in it-but the fact remains that he's not happy with how things went. He chose to become the Messiah not because he believed, not to try to pull some clever gambit, but because there was no other choice, other then to run away, and he *couldn't* run, that would be far, far worse, or so he tells himself.
But it's harder and harder to live with, being executioner of heaven's will, for a cause he never truly believed in, but live with it he must. He doesn't want this. He never wanted this. All he wanted was to end the lockdown, to save everyone he could, but was it worth the cost, this taste of ashes in his mouth, the hollow certainty that he made the wrong choice.
Akemi had thought he made the right choice, in the end. It wasn't one he liked, but at least humanity could keep their free will, right?
Wrong. A choice made under duress, whether it to be the Messiah or whether to follow God's law, was really no choice at all, and he didn't understand until it was too late the true nature of what he had chosen.
Akemi chose to become the Messiah in order to end the lockdown, but only because it was the lesser evil of the two choices he actually had. He originally liked Atsuro's talk of controlling the demons, but then Keisuke died at Kaido's hands, and Atsuro stopped pursuing his idea: Gin's choice was never something he managed to find out quite enough about because he didn't manage to pursue the inquiry about Aya quite far enough, and he didn't manage to complete Naoya's challenge on the fifth day, so never found out what his cousin/brother wanted.
Despite choosing to side with Law, and the necessary duties that come with being the Messiah, Akemi is quite firmly Neutral in his own personal beliefs. Needless to say, he is far, far less then happy with what he is doing, going against the grain of his own answer: at the same time, he's stuck and knows it.
Naoya doesn't talk to him for a long time. Close to a year, afterward. Akemi can hardly blame him, really - he knows he'd do the same, if he was in Naoya's shoes. He doesn't know the whole story, because Remiel and Sariel won't tell him more then what was revealed already, that his cousin is the reincarnation of Cain, the first murderer, punished by being bound to the cycle of reincarnation and remembering every single lifetime until he repents.
Akemi knows that he would have done the same, if his and Naoya's positions had been reversed. He doesn't have any illusions about being a better or more forgiving person, no matter who he is the reincarnation of, and for all he knows, the way this worked out had been chance. But for the vagaries of fate, he could have been the reincarnation of Cain instead, or anyone else: there by the grace of...something, go I.
He kept his mouth shut that afternoon when Amane had said that it was a just punishment. Akemi doesn't think it's just, not at all, but his idea of justice has never coincided with heaven's idea of justice, no matter that he carries out the will of God. Just another sign that he wasn't suited for this path.
Even though Naoya won't talk to him, he still visits when he can, in what little time he has to spare. He's not sure how long his cousin was down there, in the dark, locked in a small room with nothing to do and no one to talk to, before he figured out that Naoya was down there, imprisoned and kept away from anyone or anything he could influence.
The angels don't like him visiting, and even though Akemi is the Messiah, he can't manage to even get his cousin out. Not with the magnitude of his sins, apparently. So all he can do is visit, even though Naoya won't talk to him, or look at him, or accept any help at all even, and they just sit there in silence.
He keeps telling himself that he made his choices, and Naoya made his, and there is nothing to be done about it. Maybe someday he'll believe it.
Akemi's relationships are...strained, to say the least. Atsuro and Yuzu are still his friends, and probably the closest people to him, though he doesn't see them so often anymore. Midori isn't quite happy with him or his choice, and that is a strain on their relationship. He sees Amane quite a great deal, but their relationship is one of respectful distance: he likes her okay, but they're not really what you call close friends. He hasn't made any other friends, mostly because of lack of time and his position. Being the Messiah is a lonely job, after all. He knows that ultimately, he'll end up alone.
Eventually, he and Naoya started talking again, and Akemi started realizing just how crazy and angry and fucked up Naoya was, even more then he'd already seen. Realized that Naoya would never be let out of that prison, until he repented or died, and he wouldn't repent, was just too consumed by revenge to repent, would never find peace or anything approaching it in this lifetime.
Despite everything, he still cared. And Akemi did the only thing he could to help his cousin, or thought he could, and killed him, hoping that maybe, maybe, in his next lifetime, things could be different. Maybe.
"How fitting," Naoya laughs, pain flickering in his eyes for a moment. Akemi swallows, knife cold in his fingers, blood slick against his skin. He's killed before, but this is somehow different.
He doesn't know what to say. There really isn't anything to say, though, not now. Not anymore. Akemi simply holds Naoya while he dies, smooths white hair out of his eyes, and wonders if it had been like this at the beginning, all those years ago, when their positions had been reversed and Cain had killed Abel.
Now they are both fratricides, kinslayers.
"Do you hate me, brother?" soft, so soft, with every whisper of failing breath, and it isn't really a question, almost as if Naoya has his answer already and just wants to hear confirmation.
Akemi knows what it looks like-the path he chose, and then killing him, the history of their past lives, the answer looks so clear but it's wrong-but shakes his head, even as Naoya's eyes close and he goes limp and still in his arms.
"No," he whispers even though Naoya will never hear him, bowing his head and closing his eyes, tightly. "I never did."
Then the Lord replied to him, "In that case, whoever kills Cain will suffer vengeance seven times over."
The words never change, no matter how often Akemi reads them, but nothing happens. He waits, but he's never punished for Naoya's death. Something in him half-expected it, he is the Messiah, however much he hates it, but it is only further proof. He had long ago stopped looking for truth in the Bible: the God of love of the New Testament did not exist.
Where is your justice, he mutely demands of heaven, Why was Cain punished for killing his brother, when *I* committed the same sin and go unpunished?
He is God's favored son, and receives no answer.
This doesn't surprise him anymore.
Akemi wishes things had turned out differently. It's not something he tries to think about very often- he made his choices, and he can't take them back, he made his bed and now he has to lie in it-but the fact remains that he's not happy with how things went. He chose to become the Messiah not because he believed, not to try to pull some clever gambit, but because there was no other choice, other then to run away, and he *couldn't* run, that would be far, far worse, or so he tells himself.
But it's harder and harder to live with, being executioner of heaven's will, for a cause he never truly believed in, but live with it he must. He doesn't want this. He never wanted this. All he wanted was to end the lockdown, to save everyone he could, but was it worth the cost, this taste of ashes in his mouth, the hollow certainty that he made the wrong choice.
Akemi had thought he made the right choice, in the end. It wasn't one he liked, but at least humanity could keep their free will, right?
Wrong. A choice made under duress, whether it to be the Messiah or whether to follow God's law, was really no choice at all, and he didn't understand until it was too late the true nature of what he had chosen.
Akemi chose to become the Messiah in order to end the lockdown, but only because it was the lesser evil of the two choices he actually had. He originally liked Atsuro's talk of controlling the demons, but then Keisuke died at Kaido's hands, and Atsuro stopped pursuing his idea: Gin's choice was never something he managed to find out quite enough about because he didn't manage to pursue the inquiry about Aya quite far enough, and he didn't manage to complete Naoya's challenge on the fifth day, so never found out what his cousin/brother wanted.
Despite choosing to side with Law, and the necessary duties that come with being the Messiah, Akemi is quite firmly Neutral in his own personal beliefs. Needless to say, he is far, far less then happy with what he is doing, going against the grain of his own answer: at the same time, he's stuck and knows it.
Naoya doesn't talk to him for a long time. Close to a year, afterward. Akemi can hardly blame him, really - he knows he'd do the same, if he was in Naoya's shoes. He doesn't know the whole story, because Remiel and Sariel won't tell him more then what was revealed already, that his cousin is the reincarnation of Cain, the first murderer, punished by being bound to the cycle of reincarnation and remembering every single lifetime until he repents.
Akemi knows that he would have done the same, if his and Naoya's positions had been reversed. He doesn't have any illusions about being a better or more forgiving person, no matter who he is the reincarnation of, and for all he knows, the way this worked out had been chance. But for the vagaries of fate, he could have been the reincarnation of Cain instead, or anyone else: there by the grace of...something, go I.
He kept his mouth shut that afternoon when Amane had said that it was a just punishment. Akemi doesn't think it's just, not at all, but his idea of justice has never coincided with heaven's idea of justice, no matter that he carries out the will of God. Just another sign that he wasn't suited for this path.
Even though Naoya won't talk to him, he still visits when he can, in what little time he has to spare. He's not sure how long his cousin was down there, in the dark, locked in a small room with nothing to do and no one to talk to, before he figured out that Naoya was down there, imprisoned and kept away from anyone or anything he could influence.
The angels don't like him visiting, and even though Akemi is the Messiah, he can't manage to even get his cousin out. Not with the magnitude of his sins, apparently. So all he can do is visit, even though Naoya won't talk to him, or look at him, or accept any help at all even, and they just sit there in silence.
He keeps telling himself that he made his choices, and Naoya made his, and there is nothing to be done about it. Maybe someday he'll believe it.
Akemi's relationships are...strained, to say the least. Atsuro and Yuzu are still his friends, and probably the closest people to him, though he doesn't see them so often anymore. Midori isn't quite happy with him or his choice, and that is a strain on their relationship. He sees Amane quite a great deal, but their relationship is one of respectful distance: he likes her okay, but they're not really what you call close friends. He hasn't made any other friends, mostly because of lack of time and his position. Being the Messiah is a lonely job, after all. He knows that ultimately, he'll end up alone.
Eventually, he and Naoya started talking again, and Akemi started realizing just how crazy and angry and fucked up Naoya was, even more then he'd already seen. Realized that Naoya would never be let out of that prison, until he repented or died, and he wouldn't repent, was just too consumed by revenge to repent, would never find peace or anything approaching it in this lifetime.
Despite everything, he still cared. And Akemi did the only thing he could to help his cousin, or thought he could, and killed him, hoping that maybe, maybe, in his next lifetime, things could be different. Maybe.
"How fitting," Naoya laughs, pain flickering in his eyes for a moment. Akemi swallows, knife cold in his fingers, blood slick against his skin. He's killed before, but this is somehow different.
He doesn't know what to say. There really isn't anything to say, though, not now. Not anymore. Akemi simply holds Naoya while he dies, smooths white hair out of his eyes, and wonders if it had been like this at the beginning, all those years ago, when their positions had been reversed and Cain had killed Abel.
Now they are both fratricides, kinslayers.
"Do you hate me, brother?" soft, so soft, with every whisper of failing breath, and it isn't really a question, almost as if Naoya has his answer already and just wants to hear confirmation.
Akemi knows what it looks like-the path he chose, and then killing him, the history of their past lives, the answer looks so clear but it's wrong-but shakes his head, even as Naoya's eyes close and he goes limp and still in his arms.
"No," he whispers even though Naoya will never hear him, bowing his head and closing his eyes, tightly. "I never did."
Then the Lord replied to him, "In that case, whoever kills Cain will suffer vengeance seven times over."
The words never change, no matter how often Akemi reads them, but nothing happens. He waits, but he's never punished for Naoya's death. Something in him half-expected it, he is the Messiah, however much he hates it, but it is only further proof. He had long ago stopped looking for truth in the Bible: the God of love of the New Testament did not exist.
Where is your justice, he mutely demands of heaven, Why was Cain punished for killing his brother, when *I* committed the same sin and go unpunished?
He is God's favored son, and receives no answer.
This doesn't surprise him anymore.