savetheearth | [closed]

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Who: Alan Hunter and Mikasa Bito
What: A chance meeting at a water fountain, tainted water, and unfortunate childhood memories
Where: A park somewhere idk I am good at logs
When: August 3rd, before Alan sees the warnings about the water :V

Creating art is thirsty work. Even though Alan has given up on working on actual paintings in public areas after an unpleasant encounter with a certain security guard with an amazing nose, he still likes to go outside to work on his sketches. His mom's always reminding him about keeping hydrated when out in the sun, but he doesn't like to carry a water bottle with him, preferring to just make use of water fountains. That's what they're for, after all.

As he's making his way over to the nearest fountain, he notices someone else approaching a little further away and hurries to make it there first. He hates waiting around for other people to drink like a loser. Much better to make others wait instead.

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Mikasa, on the other hand, sees no reason to step it up just because someone else is aiming for the same spot. It's not like the fountain is going to run out of water, and honestly, what's ten seconds of her time in the grand scheme of things?

Not enough time to die of thirst, that's for certain.

Alan gives the girl a brief glance as he leans to drink. She's vaguely familiar -he's seen her at school, but doesn't recall if he's ever heard her name. Not that it matters, he thinks, and turns back to the fountain.

He hasn't even finished drinking when the echo hits him. The memories he's gotten earlier have both been vague, little more than a feeling and an image. This one, though, is almost painfully clear.

(i got lost)

(a child shouldn't go walking all alone through the forest)

(you animals)

(this is what you deserve)

(it's safe now)

He chokes, almost falling to the ground as he pushes himself back from the fountain, eyes wide with shock. What the hell was that?

She's seen him around too, of course. Even if one doesn't really associate with him - which she doesn't - he's easy to notice, just by virtue of how loud he tends to be.

So even if she's never really registered him as more than "that one shouty kid," she's not exactly alarmed by his dramatic push back from the fountain. He's loud like that. He's not still choking. He's probably fine, right? Just blowing up a minor case of something down the wrong pipe, and it's not really a big deal - nothing to elicit more than a slight raise of her eyebrows as she steps into the space he just vacated and leans forward to get a drink, herself.

The best thing to do right now would be to run off and freak out about the creepy memory somewhere in private. He's about to do just that when he gets another look at her and realises that she was there. She's older, but she's still clearly the same girl that was lying on the floor of that house.

As he's staring, the first giggles escape from his mouth, quickly followed by more. Oh, great. He's completely lost it now, hasn't he? There's nothing funny about this, but he just can't stop laughing. And even though he really should be leaving before he makes a spectacle of himself, there's still one thing he needs to be sure of.

"Hey, you're - haha - you're Mikasa, right?"

Her lips have almost touched the water when she hears the question, and she only pauses long enough to wonder why he's asking before she internally shrugs it off, leans down, and takes a sip. It takes her a moment longer before it catches up with her. She's straightening up, turning around to face him and opening her mouth to answer, when she freezes half-facing him, images racing through her mind.

A man choking a boy.

The boy screaming at her to do something, to fight - you can't win if you don't fight.

Reaching for the knife on the ground next to her -

Her hand slips back down to the fountain, grabbing onto the edge of it to keep herself steady. Her mouth is hanging open, but she's long since forgotten about answering the question.

That's...that's him, isn't it? It has to be.

He struggles to keep from laughing and waits for an answer. He should go, he really should - she probably just thinks he's a total nut - but he needs to know.

When she doesn't say anything for a while, he opens his mouth again. A mistake, as it makes him lose control and slip into a fit of hysterical laughter. It takes a moment before he's able to speak at all.

"This is going to sound really weird, but...do you remember..." What can he even ask, though? Do you remember seeing me stab two guys? He trails off uncertainly into more laughter.

A small giggle slips out of her as soon as she takes a breath to answer, but she forces herself to stop, to straight up a bit and look him in the eye - that's only polite when you're speaking to someone, after all.

"I remember you."

That probably sounds stupid as hell. From what, from passing each other in the hall? But it's more than that and she's sure she doesn't have to explain, because now the way he choked and pushed back from the fountain makes perfect sense, and the only question is whether he remembers doing the same thing she remembers him doing.

She's not sure if that would make this worse or better.

He laughs again, not sure if that makes him feel relieved or even more disturbed. On one hand, her remembering it means it's not just in his head, so maybe he's not completely crazy. On the other, it's still really fucked up. Does this mean it really happened to them in some past life?

"It wasn't really me."

That's one thing he knows for certain. Despite all the weird things he's found himself thinking and feeling lately, he knows he'd never just go out and stab people like that. He certainly wouldn't have as a kid. That means it couldn't have really been him, right?

It wasn't him.

Of course it wasn't him. Because it wasn't her either, because she wouldn't do that. She'd never -

She's not sure why she's laughing too, but she is, and the sheer ludicrousness of this entire situation doesn't really feel like an adequate excuse. "Sorry, it's not -" She takes a breath, trying to calm herself down.

It isn't working.

Instead, she starts laughing harder, and she grips the side of the water fountain a little tighter, her knuckles turning white. "It's. It's not -" Another deep breath, and a laugh that sounds choked, desperate, like it's half a beat away from turning into a sob. "It's not funny."

It really isn't funny, and now it's dawning on him how familiar this is - hadn't that one girl on the network thought about slipping that fucking scorpion's venom into people's drinks? What if-

"I think it's-" He gestures at the fountain, speaking between laughs. "The water. A...a chemical thing?" Probably best not to go into stuff about aliens and scorpions and all that. The situation's weird enough as it is.

"It might last a while."

"Oh."

That next giggle, too, skirts the line between laughing and...well, something a lot less happy than laughing.

"Great."

"Yeah, it sucks."

He doesn't sound particularly happy himself, though he's more annoyed than upset. Had it really been too much to hope that he wouldn't have to deal with this again? The echo had been bad enough by itself, he didn't need the giggles on top of that.

It's hard to stay standing while laughing this hard, so he makes his way to the nearest bench and flops down on it. He gives Mikasa an expectant glance, hoping she'll join him. Two teenagers laughing together is going to look a lot less suspicious than one.

Well, it's not like she has any better ideas about how the hell else to make this look casual. She sits next to him - a little closer than he normally would, for someone she doesn't know well, but it's not like they're going to make this look like a couple of friends having fun or harmless flirting or whatever if she sits all the way at the edge, and anyway -

It...feels like she can trust him. Which is probably a ridiculous thing to think about someone she just remembered encouraging her to kill someone, but if she hadn't listened...

If he hadn't been there -

She doesn't want to think about this.

For a while, Alan just sits there, quiet save for the giggles. Talking feels like too much of an effort, and he's not even sure what he'd say. There are way too many thoughts whirling around in his head.

He'd killed people. Or past him had. The reincarnation theory seems like the likeliest one now, and at least it means he's not the crazy one, not really. It doesn't help much when he can remember killing two guys, though. He hadn't felt any hesitation or remorse, hadn't even thought of them as people. And he'd been younger in the memory, too, just a kid. What kind of kid would do things like that, think like that?

He shudders, deciding it's best not to think too hard about it. That's when he realises that he's no longer laughing.

"Oh, thank fuck. It took hours to wear off last time."

She sighs softly when he says that, because it's enough to call her attention to the fact that she's not laughing anymore, either.

Not that this isn't going to continue being a very special brand of awkward, but being able to ask questions with a straight face is better than sitting here laughing about the fact that they were children and they killed people. "How...much do you know about all of this?" The memories, the crazy stuff in the water, whatever else is involved - either way, he seems to have more of a clue than her.

She's still not sure how much of the answer she actually wants to hear.

"It's, uh...kind of complicated."

There are so many things to explain about the whole thing that he doesn't even know where to begin. The network, echoes, superpowers, aliens... Now that he thinks about it, there has been a lot going on since he first wrote down those numbers.

...The numbers. That's a good place to start, isn't it?

"Okay. There should be a string of numbers in your head that you can't seem to forget?"

She blinks in surprise, but asking how he knew that is kind of stupid at this point, when it's one of the less weird things about this entire situation.

"Yeah. They mean something?"

"Let me show you."

He digs through his bag, pulling out his sketchpad and pencil. After opening the pad to an empty page, he hands them to her.

"Write them down."

It sounds stupid.

What doesn't, today?

She obediently takes the sketchpad and the pencil, hesitating for just a moment with the pencil a millimeter from the paper before she writes it down, in a neat, even hand - and drops the sketchpad straight into her lap as soon as she sees what happens to the paper.

Her reaction is not surprising. It's pretty much the same thing he did when he first wrote his numbers down in that same pad.

"That's the network. There are a bunch of people who can access it - we've all got our own numbers, and we all get stuff like those memories you and I saw. Normal people can't see it, the page would just look blank to them."

Explaining like this makes it sound completely ridiculous. It's a lot easier to give the introduction spiel to someone who's already found the network on their own. Still, she can see the evidence with her own eyes, so it's not like he's looking entirely crazy here.

"...okay."

It's ridiculous, all right. But is sitting here wasting breath on saying so really going to change anything? She just bites back on all of that - at least for now - and tries to get on with business. Whatever business even means, in a situation like this.

"Why, though?"

"Nobody really knows. One pretty common theory is that the memories are from past lives, but that doesn't explain the network. We're still trying to figure things out."

Should he tell her about the stuff about aliens and defending the Earth? Would that be too overwhelming right now?

He decides to go for the easiest option.

"Let me pull up the FAQ for you. It explains things better than I can."

Past lives.

It makes more sense than "random hallucinations," but she's not sure the idea itself is much more palatable. She's going crazy, or they were child murderers...neither of which sounds that great. She doesn't want to think about it.

- so she does her best to think about the rest of it, even if that might not be much better. "That sounds awfully organized for nobody knowing what's going on."

"It's about all the organisation we've got. Chances are people put it together just because they were annoyed at all the people who keep finding the network by accident and having a million questions."

He brushes against her as he picks up the pad from her lap, but doesn't even really register it. With his attention on the network, it's easy to slip into feeling relaxed and comfortable around her.

It takes a while to find a direct link to the FAQ. "Someone should really put up a link to that thing in a sidebar or something..."

She doesn't really notice the moment of contact either, and she leans in close to watch him pull the FAQ up. "If they know how. I mean, how do you sticky threads in a notebook? Does it take some kind of admin privileges? Does this thing even have those?"

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