Chapter Text
"I hate this place," Akechi remarked.
"Me too," Ren said brightly. "Like I said. Neutral ground."
Simpering faux-friendliness was just another variety of the kind of corporate artifice that always made Ren uncomfortable. He had spent their expedition through Okumura's mechanically cold palace feeling itchy and angry and decidedly less suave and assured than Joker probably should have been. Even in this coffee shop he’d chosen for this conversation (tête-à-tête? conference? war meeting?) with Akechi, the colorful posters and gimmicky logo plastered on everything hinted at callous exploitation.
Once Ren hadn't been so quick to see the darkness lurking behind everyday things. Sometimes he wondered, with a detached sort of curiosity, what it'd be like to have that ignorant innocence back. But there was that word coming to mind again, before: so tricky and so ultimately useless.
Thinking about Okumura made him think about the true nature of the person standing next to him. He glanced over at the teenage assassin in question.
"We could have gone somewhere equally agreeable to both of us, instead of equally detestable," Akechi said, through a scowl.
So his new thing was choosing to look and sound jaded and cranky. In his school uniform Akechi had seemed polished and grown-up, in a way that made Ren yearn to bridge the distance between them, but now he seemed like an adult in a different way: experienced and distant and rougher around the edges. His smiling public persona seemed to be lying dormant. Maybe that was because, for whatever reason, he wasn’t attracting the same kind of attention that he usually received. Ren hadn't seen anyone glance at him in recognition– beyond the glances that good-looking people tended to get– on the way here or inside the shop. It was another indication that something wasn't right.
"I figured it would be easier to find something you hate than something you think is agreeable," Ren told him.
Akechi made a huffing noise that, in another time or place, could have been a laugh. "I suppose you know me well."
They were doing a great job of not talking about the reason they were standing so close to each other in the line.
"We have three major points to discuss," Akechi said, after they'd gotten their drinks.
"I think I'm going to have a few more to add," Ren said, leaning back in his chair. The table they were sitting on opposite sides of was so small that their knees were almost touching, but the compulsion to completely close the small gap between them was like an itch that he desperately wanted to scratch. He was becoming aware of his own burgeoning desire to reach out and touch Akechi. That urge ran like a current under the careful dance of their conversation, turning the air between them heavy and stifling.
If Akechi felt the same way, or was affected in any meaningful way by Ren’s cheek, he was doing a great job of hiding it. "We don't have time for extraneous matters," he said loftily. "You can air out any grievances you have later. If there's time."
“I want to know how you survived,” Ren said. “I don’t think that’s an extraneous matter .”
"That isn't important right now."
"But–"
"As I was saying,” Akechi said through gritted teeth. “Three. Points."
Akechi still seemed as if he was on the verge of shattering into pieces. Ren decided to keep quiet and let him have his precious three points.
Seeing that he was no longer being met with resistance, Akechi began. "First, I need you to tell me what's happened since you and I parted ways."
"You mean–"
"Not Christmas Eve," Akechi said, voice inflectionless. "Before that.”
Ren flexed the fingers of his hand under the table. "Okay." He brought Akechi up to speed.
"I see. For a short time, the Metaverse was merged with our reality,” Akechi said, after he finished. “Ostensibly, that’s no longer the case. Yet– here’s my second point– the reality we find ourselves in now is undoubtedly a false one."
So he'd finally said aloud what they’d both been thinking.
“What makes you say that?” Ren said mildly.
"Don't pretend to be stupid."
Unable to help himself, Ren grinned insolently.
Akechi ignored it and continued. “After turning myself in and being interrogated, I was released from police custody with little explanation. Does that sound normal to you?”
“I don’t really know anything about cop procedures.”
Akechi sighed. “It’s decidedly abnormal. That clued me in to the fact that something was wrong.” He paused. “Afterwards, I got… distracted.”
In the brief silence that followed, it felt like the insistent tugging was exerting an even greater orbital force.
“What about you?” Akechi said abruptly, adjusting a glove on one hand. Ren’s eyes followed the movement and quickly returned to Akechi’s face when he continued to speak. “You must have observed something. Have you checked on your friends lately?”
As if on cue, Ren’s phone buzzed.
“Be my guest,” Akechi said.
The notifications were from the group chat. Ren scrolled through the messages, reading quickly, until something stopped his hand and his jaw went slack.
“What is it?” Akechi lowered his voice.
Ren didn’t trust himself to speak, so he held up his phone so Akechi could see for himself the last image that Futaba had sent. In any other circumstance, Ren would have made a comment about her skill at taking selfies. He would have called it a nice family photo.
“Wakaba Isshiki,” Akechi said. “So.” His face had shuttered completely. “It seems that some people who should be dead have been resurrected.”
“Makoto said something about– hanging out with her family. Her family. Ryuji’s talking about the track team like it still exists.” If Akechi wasn’t here across from him, Ren knew he’d feel like he was going insane.
“Then it looks like all of the Phantom Thieves have been taken in by this farce,” Akechi said.
“We’re the only ones,“ Ren realized. “The only ones who know there’s something wrong. That’s why we’re being pulled together.”
“And so you bring us to my third point,” Akechi murmured. “Our… situation.”
Ren smiled slightly. "Is that what we're calling it?"
"Your hypothesis is interesting,” Akechi said slowly. “But there’s no way of knowing if this link between us has formed because we’re apparently the only people exempt from this mass brainwashing, or if it’s a result of some other nefarious purpose.” His face darkened.
Ren ran a hand through his hair. “My head hurts.”
Akechi seemed displeased by that. “I hope you’re planning on taking this seriously. I want to make a deal with you.”
Ren had been expecting that.
“It makes sense for us to team up and investigate this,” he continued. “It’ll be the quickest way to find the truth.”
“I don’t think we actually have much of a choice,” Ren said wryly.
Akechi frowned. “I suppose that’s true.”
Poor Akechi– the “situation” had rendered him unable to make his usual dramatic declarations sound as compelling. “But I accept,” Ren said in consolation. “I think we have our first clue, anyway.” It had just become clear to him a moment ago. “The Metaverse app is back on my phone.”
Akechi’s eyes narrowed. “Is that so?” He retrieved his own phone and checked it. “The same goes for me,” he said, still looking at the screen. “Then this situation could be tied to a Palace."
“Whose?” Ren wondered aloud.
There was a short silence. Apparently, neither of them were going to come to any realizations just yet.
"Well, I'm going back to my apartment," Akechi said abruptly. "If we’re going to get any further in our investigation, then I need my laptop and my things."
Ren wondered what Akechi’s other things included. A gun, maybe. "You can’t go anywhere without me," he reminded him.
Akechi smiled in a way that brooked no argument. "I’m going back to my apartment,” he repeated.
Ren sighed. He supposed they were going to Akechi’s apartment.
Ren was aware that he probably knew Akechi better than anyone else did– knew his habits, his likes and dislikes, the way he took his coffee. And more than that– he knew the reasons for Akechi’s desperate passion. He had come to understand the complex, labyrinthine network of his feelings and motivations.
But Ren didn’t know how Akechi lived. How he spent his time when he wasn’t play-acting at being a golden boy or methodically eliminating targets was a mystery. That had never been more clear to Ren than it was right after Akechi opened the door of his home for him.
Akechi had let him in with a resigned huff of breath and had then left him stranded in the doorway while he stalked around the small, one-room space, shoving notebooks, electronic chargers, and other Akechi-esque things into his briefcase. Occasionally they moved in slight ways by drifting closer to each other– following the tugging had already become something of an unconscious act.
“Aren’t you going to offer me tea?” Ren said after a while of that.
There was no response from Akechi as he continued to violently rip drawers open and slam them shut. Ren felt a little hurt. Akechi had never actually ignored him before.
He looked around the apartment to pass the time. Lying atop a desk in the corner was a desktop computer, several legal pads, various pieces of stationery, and what looked like a stress ball branded forlornly with a corporate logo. For some reason, there was a coat rack in the middle of the room, from which hung several sweaters and a few jackets that Ren had never seen Akechi wear. The most notable feature was a low bookshelf crammed full of worn titles that looked as if they had been amassed over a long period of time. Ren imagined Akechi pausing near a shelf at a secondhand store, picking up a book that had caught his interest, and leafing through the pages with care. Something in his chest felt strange.
“All right.”
Ren blinked. Akechi had appeared in front of him, briefcase in hand. “I’ve gathered what I need." His voice was businesslike. "I assume you'll want to return to Leblanc."
Ren considered him. “So now you’re fine with going back there?”
“We’ve established a partnership, haven’t we? Now that we’re standing on equal ground, I don’t mind using that café as a base," Akechi said lightly. "Surely you don’t, either. Besides, I’d like to drink some real coffee.”
Some of that old, flirty cadence had returned to Akechi’s voice. Ren knew what it meant: the mask was sliding back into place. Akechi clearly didn’t want him here.
That made Ren feel hurt again. The belligerent desire for some kind of retaliation was the only reason he said, “You’re not going to be able to keep this up.”
“What?” Akechi said flatly.
“Pretending everything between us is just part of a deal," Ren said. "That's never been true. Especially now, when we're connected like this."
Akechi's face hardened. “I don’t want to talk about this now. If you’re able to control yourself, then we should get going.”
Irritation prickled at Ren. Suddenly, he wanted desperately to get a rise out of Akechi. “Because you’re such an expert at self-control."
Akechi stared at him with that same hard look. Then he smiled that new, harsh smile of his. He stepped closer, and Ren felt some of the air leave his lungs.
“You know," Akechi said quietly, his face inches from Ren's, "I’ve always rather liked that you have a bite. But I’m not interested in arguing at the moment. My priority is to get to the bottom of this. What's yours?”
After a moment, Ren said, “Fine. To Leblanc."
"Lovely," Akechi said. He gave Ren one last look, and then raised his chin and strode past him towards the door. "Onward, then."
Ren followed. It was all right, he told himself. Sooner or later, they’d have no choice but to confront the truth together, and Ren didn’t mind waiting. Akechi couldn't run from this– Akechi couldn't run from Ren at all, not anymore. Besides, Ren could play along for now. He was mollified by how Akechi had said that he liked Ren’s bite.
“What are you doing, exactly?” Ren said.
They were sitting across from each other in a Leblanc booth. Sojiro had stepped outside to do some shopping, and the café was empty of customers.
Akechi had his laptop open. It was a moment before he replied. “I’m trying to look into how much of the world has been changed. It may be that the strange phenomena happening here are present elsewhere as well.”
“What have you found out?”
“So far, it seems like the effects are predominantly concentrated in Japan.” Akechi’s voice dropped in a contemplative murmur. “I wonder if…”
When he didn’t continue, Ren leaned forward. “Let me help.”
“There’s plenty for you to do,” Akechi said. “Speak to your friends and gather information.” His eyes were glued to the screen, and he sounded distracted. “Find out more about what’s different. Make me coffee so I can work better.”
Ren went to go make coffee for Akechi and for himself, because it was something useful to do with his hands, and because he didn’t particularly feel like speaking to his friends in the group chat. Their strange messages, full of subtly impossible details, were leaving him cold. He barely got behind the counter before he began to feel the tugging pressing at him. He looked up to tell Akechi, but he saw that he had already risen from his seat and was wordlessly coming over to the chairs, his mouth set in a thin, hard line.
Ren set a cup of coffee down in front of Akechi when he was finished brewing. There was something reassuring about seeing him work. In a situation like this, Akechi’s dedicated competency was soothing, where before it had seemed vaguely unnerving– or attractive, depending on Ren’s mood.
A few minutes later, Akechi suddenly made a noise that Ren thought might have been a soft, triumphant a-ha.
Ren raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”
“My log-in for the online police database still works, apparently,” Akechi said. “The number of crimes reported in the past week or so is dramatically below the average for this time of year. It looks like Christmas Eve was the first day it became possible to see a marked difference.”
“That was the day we took down Yaldabaoth,” Ren said.
“And the day Mementos merged with reality, you said.”
“But Mementos doesn’t–” Ren stopped when he remembered that the Metaverse app was back. It was impossible to say for certain if Mementos was really gone in this new world.
"Today would be best spent adjusting to our situation, but tomorrow, we should try to enter the Metaverse. I’m sure that the key to finding out what’s wrong lies there. And if we discover what's causing the change in reality, we can fix... this,” Akechi said.
There was no need for him to say what this was. The sound of Akechi’s voice saying another harsh word embedded itself in Ren’s consciousness and repeated endlessly in his mind– fix, fix, fix.
Ren sequestered himself in the attic for the rest of the day. Having to constantly confront small signs of the extensive strangeness that seemed to be everywhere was freaking him out. He remembered seeing a young girl in the neighborhood weeping over the death of a family pet just a few weeks ago, and today he’d seen her happily petting the dog as it sat on its haunches and panted, very much alive. The sight had made him feel ill, for some reason, and then he decided it’d be better to not leave his room.
It was now Ren’s turn to play host. Since he was choosing to be a recluse, Akechi had to, as well– although it didn’t seem as if it mattered much to him. He just hunkered down in front of his laptop, speaking a few short words when necessary. Ren found himself enjoying the quiet company. Somehow Akechi, of all people, had become his only source of stability in whatever this new reality was.
Explaining the need for Akechi to stay overnight to Sojiro had gone over relatively smoothly– except for when a strangely handsome boy had walked into Leblanc during the conversation and expressed loud disappointment about the fact that he would apparently have to find somewhere else to spend the night. Ren supposed it was just another odd thing they’d have to investigate later.
Night fell, and then it was time to confront the delicate question of where Akechi should sleep. Ren’s parents had taught him that a guest should be offered all the best amenities available, but Ren had never asked what the rules were when the guest had once tried to kill you. He had previously, at one time or another, entertained the idea of getting Akechi into his bed, but none of his idle fantasies involved anything close to what this particular situation had wrought. He was thinking it over when Akechi settled the matter himself by saying, "Is that a spare futon? I’m using it.”
It was a spare futon– rolled up in the corner and hitherto forgotten. Sojiro had let him borrow it from his house when Ryuji was staying over one night, and then Futaba had fallen asleep after a gaming session some time later, so it had gotten some more use and remained in the room– waiting, apparently, to grant a murderer hospitality.
Akechi stalked over to it– stalking seemed to be his new default method of movement– and started to heft it up.
Ren watched him. "Maybe we should sleep together," he said blandly.
The innuendo got no reaction out of Akechi. “I’ll pull this over there, next to that stack of crates you call a bed. That,” he said, huffing slightly as he moved it over, “will be perfectly adequate to satisfy the demands of…” He reached the bed and deposited the futon on the ground before looking up and gesturing vaguely at the space between the two of them. “This.”
Akechi’s capacity for speech was breaking down, apparently. The day had clearly taken its toll on both of them. “If you say so,” said Ren. He hadn’t really expected a different response.
Later on, when the lights were out, sleep was slow to come. Ren listened to the rhythm of Akechi's breathing, so close to him on the attic floor, and tried to ignore the pressing urge to turn and reach for him. He drifted off eventually, into sleep that would prove to be fitful, since it wasn't long before he was awoken suddenly by a resurgence of that same awful, empty feeling from that morning.
Ren sat up, clutched at his chest, and looked over at the space next to his bed. Akechi wasn’t there.
Blindly shoving his sheets off of him, he got to his feet. The discomfort was so much worse this time, as if affirming the connection had made separation even more unbearable. At least he knew exactly where to go. Their link was going to guide him. Staggering blindly towards the stairs, he felt exhaustion and panic muddle his awareness. All he was certain of was that he had to find Akechi, and that he could.
Downstairs, sounds unfamiliar to Ren were coming from inside the bathroom. Ren crept closer to the door and stood near it. He strained his ears. Akechi was inside, mumbling something. Ren’s heart lurched in his chest. He couldn’t make out the words Akechi was saying to himself, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear them.
"Akechi," Ren said.
The sounds stopped abruptly. Then Ren heard Akechi say, in a low voice, “Leave me alone.” He sounded furious and strained. “Why can’t I– not even for one goddamn moment–”
“I can’t,” Ren said. It had suddenly become hard to swallow. “I… can’t.”
There was a short, awful silence, and then Akechi swore loudly, a couple of raw, guttural syllables that seemed to carry all of his wrath and frustration.
Ren sunk to the floor, his back to the bathroom door. The inside of his mouth still felt dry, and his heart was hammering in his chest. Here, at last, was the panic. Emotions always did come belatedly for him, long after an impetus had presented itself. When he’d been arrested, when Kamoshida had threatened him with expulsion from Shujin, when he’d thought he was leaving Akechi’s cold body in the engine room of Shido’s palace– he had only felt blankness for hours after the fact before the anguish and the anger set in.
Ren could feel a highly inappropriate peal of laughter threaten to spill out from his throat. Maybe he was becoming hysterical. He closed his eyes and pressed the palms of his hands into the lids until he saw stars. From the other side of the door, he could hear Akechi taking shaky, quick breaths, the frantic, awful rhythm matching the pace of Ren’s heart.