He can remember a warm familiar touch, calloused fingers brushing against his face, and his name. That’s all he could remember from before his accident, in fact he barely remembered the accident that put him back into re-education in the first place. He sat on his bed, if you could even call it that, staring at the large screen in front of him.
“Please select a style for your accessory.” The voice is far too cheery for his liking. Mishima doesn’t want to stand up either, why bother. Just be a drain and never be free. “Please select a style.” It spoke again, this time more forceful. Fine. Might as well get it out of the way and then continue to be a drain. Not that he mattered.
He stood, standing in front of the screen with his hand outstretched. There were several options, create new, choose from pre-made. Seemed pretty standard. He choose pre-made, thinking maybe it’d be easier. A few greeted him, most of them petite women. He scrolled idly, watching all the female accessories scroll by. He made a face, what is it with people and abandoning female accessories?
It didn’t really matter. He skimmed through one more page, stopping almost immediately on one. It was familiar, more like a waking dream than an actual person. He might just be an android, but even just the image on the screen felt human. The shock of dark hair and stormy gray eyes were almost close enough that he could touch them. He did, unknowingly selecting this pre-made accessory to be his own.
“Oh god oh god ohhh no. I didn’t want to do that.” He tries to go back and somehow cancel his choice. It was impulsive, he knows it was. There was no getting out of his choice now. The door slid open, almost immediately. There he was, the boy he selected was standing in front of him.
He gasps, it feels like something hit him in the chest. He steps forward, holding his hands out and pressing them gently to his accessory’s fault. “Akira?” The name comes out involuntarily, it feels right. Like it belonged to him in the first place. It all felt like some awful dream. He let’s go, and stumbles backwards. He clutches his chest, forgetting how to breathe.
Soft laughter filters through, warm sunlight shines down on them as they sit on the warren. “Hey, Yuuki. I think I love you.”
“Please register your name.” The mechanic voice drags him back. It’s similar, similar to the one he just heard. He hardly got to see who was talking to him, but the voice was unmistakable. Mishima knew that accessories didn’t have personalities, they were just androids. The didn’t have individual voices either, so why now? Why this one?
“Please register your name.” The accessory turns his head towards Mishima, eyes unblinking. He falters for a moment under the intense gaze. His eyes would have been nice, had they had a little more life to them.
“M-mishima Yuuki.” He manages to get it out, straightening himself up. He didn’t need to look presentable for his accessory, but he felt like he suddenly needed to.
“Mishima Yuuki, registered as user.”
This was so weird.