Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Different places had different types of silence. Ren had always taken this for granted as a distant, logical fact, but in recent days he was having to live out the truths that, before, he had only known vaguely. 

Before– it was a word just as weighty as it was meaningless. Ren could remember the quiet rhythm of his house. There were long stretches of noiselessness broken up by footsteps coming from different floors. There were domestic sounds of dishes being done and floors being swept, and sounds of doors, opening or closing with gentleness or finality. There were his sisters’ voices, rising in plaintive complaint or lowering in murmurs. It was a comforting, sleepy kind of silence.

The first time he’d stood in his attic bedroom, there among the dust and the cardboard boxes, he’d recalled how the guidebook had said Yongen-Jaya was quaint and failed to say much else at all. Then he had listened to the muted sounds of the neighborhood– the distant shouts of drunk men, the chattering of people passing in the streets– and felt for the first time that he was truly alone. The realization had brought with it a peculiar kind of emptiness. There would be no friendly, familial noises breaking up the silence after hours in this café, he'd thought. There would be only the drunkards outside, the music and the chatter and the cries of cicadas continuing throughout the night, and the singular devastation of total solitude.  

That loneliness had faded eventually, after he’d met his friends– people who relied on him, people who agreed that "The Singular Devastation Of Total Solitude" could be a good band name. The empty feeling had ebbed after Morgana had joined him and the sound of his voice had filled the unfamiliar silence in the attic. Ren had thought it wouldn’t return for a long while.

But on New Year's Day, he woke up feeling as if that emptiness had clawed its way inside his skin and made him its vessel.

The sensation was so all-consuming that Ren jolted upright in bed and clapped a hand over his mouth, his first instinct to suppress the sob that threatened to spill out. 

Weird. Ren didn't sob. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd cried. Yet he felt withered, like he'd been hit with a spell in the Metaverse, overcome by some kind of mind-bending affliction that was making him feel teary. Definitely weird. And wasn’t the Metaverse gone now?  

There was no sign of Morgana, no one here to witness him, but he couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by the surge of emotion. Ren tried to clear his head. He had the sense that he was missing something important. His Personae? But no– when Arsene and every other Persona he had absorbed as a part of himself had disappeared from his heart, their absence had left him quietly mournful. This sensation was different. It was urgent. 

He felt just as alone as he had during that first night in the attic, after Sojiro had gone home and left him in the darkened café. He felt like if he didn’t find what he’d lost, he was going to burst. 

The gloom was lessening– not fading, but transmuting into restlessness. Ren shifted in a quick, violent movement and tossed his sheets aside. He was standing up before he even realized it, his bare feet hitting the floorboards. Something– the part of him that felt newly torn in half– wanted him to leave this place. He followed the feeling downstairs. 

So, Ren reflected, later, something was wrong. 

Something else, besides whatever it was that was leaving him so jittery. He had known it first when he saw Futaba– which of the girls could have come over so early to help her into her clothes? He knew it now, as he stood next to Kasumi at the shrine that was almost totally devoid of people. 

Ren shuffled his feet. He wished he knew where Morgana was. The half-formed thought of whatever he was missing pressed anxiously at him, even more urgently, now. He felt anticipation rising within him, like he was getting closer to what he was looking for– but what was he looking for? 

“It’s still bothering me.” Kasumi’s voice broke through his reverie. 

Ren turned to her. “What is?”

“There’s hardly anybody here,” she said. “There are always crowds on the first few days of the year. I don’t…” There was a twinge of discomfort on her face, but then, suddenly, her expression evened out, and she laughed a little. “Well, it’s not as if it’s important. I’m just being silly. Sorry, Senpai.” 

Before Ren could reply, a sudden calm took hold of him. 

No- calm was the wrong word. It was a feeling of relief- as if he had been holding his breath for the whole morning, and now he could finally let it out.

Ren turned around without knowing why. The same force that had led him down the stairs that morning was compelling him. Somehow, he was unsurprised by who he saw.

"Happy New Year," Goro Akechi said. 

The boy who he had thought dead, the boy who was supposed to be in prison, was standing a short distance away. He was wearing a long winter coat and gloves. His arms were folded, and his face held no expression at all. 

Ren stared. Seeing Akechi always brought out a wealth of complicated emotions, but what he felt now was something different. It was a tug. And then Ren realized the true nature of what had been haunting him all day. 

Something was pulling him towards Akechi. 

Ren followed it without a thought. The jittery discomfort was melting away. He wanted to chase the feeling of relief, and to do that, he needed to get closer. But when he moved toward Akechi, Akechi leaned almost imperceptibly backwards. 

Ren stared at him. Akechi stared back, but he was standing stiffly– there was something odd about his posture, and a wary, strange look on his face. Akechi, Ren realized, looked almost afraid. 

Ren’s first realization was compounded by another– Akechi was being influenced by the same thing that was affecting Ren. And the tension in his shoulders and the way he was holding himself rigidly told Ren that he was doing everything in his power to fight it.  

“Oh! Akechi, you’re…”  

The voice was Kasumi’s. Ren kept his eyes fixed on Akechi. 

"Yoshizawa.” Akechi glanced away at her for a moment before his eyes returned to Ren. “I'm sorry to have to intrude. But I’m afraid I need to speak to him.” 

Ren realized that he should probably say something. “Sorry, Kasumi.” It took effort to look at her, to focus on something that wasn’t Akechi. Akechi, who was apparently what he’d been missing. “Can I catch up with you in a bit?”

“Uh, sure!” Kasumi seemed confused, but eventually she smiled in understanding, and she sounded cheery enough. “I don’t mind.” 

Ren looked back at Akechi, who nodded shortly, turned away, and began to walk in the opposite direction. 

Ren followed him. The feeling of relief was so appeasing, the pull so compelling, that he hardly felt as if he had another option. After a moment, Akechi looked over his shoulder. Their eyes met. Then Akechi turned abruptly around again.

Weird, Ren thought. Weird, weird, weird. 

Akechi stopped eventually under the shade of some trees. Ren stood next to him. 

They were silent for a moment, and then Akechi said, abruptly, "I’m sure you’ve noticed that a number of things are very obviously out of alignment at the moment.” 

Classic Akechi, using long strings of words when only a few would suffice. It was a habit of his that had come to inspire fondness in Ren, but while he might have normally smiled or made a joke, now all he could think to do was say, "You knew I'd be here."

"Why do you say that?" Akechi retorted. 

Ren’s pulse was picking up. He had missed this rhythm, this back-and-forth. Conversations with Akechi weren’t like the ones he had with anybody else. "Because I knew that you would be," Ren said. “I could feel it.” 

Akechi stared at him. He was clenching his jaw, and that odd expression was back on his face– the nearly-fearful one. Then suddenly it was gone and the cold look returned. "I’d like to conduct an experiment,” he said. 

Ren hesitated. “There’s Kasumi–”  

"Send a text. Make up an excuse." Akechi’s voice was clipped.

Irritation surged suddenly. Ren had never been very good with authority. Now the authoritative pressures he felt compelled to disobey were the bossy older boy who had tried to kill him and the mysterious supernatural force pulling the two of them together. Having shot one supernatural force in the head very recently, Ren wasn’t particularly inclined to follow the whims of any others. He frowned and looked away, ignoring the protesting feeling from within him.  

"Don't be stupid,” Akechi said, scathing. “Do you think I don't want to fight this, too? Whatever it is? We can’t do anything until we know just what the hell is going on here. That means we have to gather information."

Ren forced himself calm and sighed. “Fine. We can do your experiment.” He retrieved his phone from his pocket and fired off a quick, apologetic message to Kasumi. 

Akechi waited until he was done, and then turned towards him. "Back away from me," he said. 

The curtness of his voice made it sound like a rejection, and Ren felt irrationally stung. He ignored the feeling and started to do as Akechi commanded.

“Stop,” Akechi said, after a second.

Ren stopped. 

“That’s about twenty centimeters.” Akechi’s voice was grim. “How do you feel?”

Ren felt the same way he’d felt since he’d seen Akechi appear out of thin air on Christmas Eve– he felt like he wanted to lunge at him, to shake him by the shoulders, to demand answers and whatever else Akechi was willing to offer. And now that feeling was magnified by the goddamn tugging. “I can deal,” he replied, instead of saying any of that. 

“Good,” Akechi murmured. “So can I. That much space, at least, we can handle. Now move again.”

Ren was already getting tired of this game of Akechi Says, but he complied and walked backwards. This time it was significantly more difficult to force himself to move away. 

Then Akechi told him to stop. “Forty centimeters, more or less,” he said tightly. “Well?” 

Ren closed his eyes briefly. He wanted to shut out unnecessary senses and get a better handle on what was happening to him. The discomfort had increased. It was like a rope was tied around his waist, pulling him forward, and it was taking everything he had to resist its force. “Doesn’t feel great.” 

“But still bearable,” Akechi said. 

Ren sighed. “Sure.”

Akechi bid him back away again. Now Ren’s steps were noticeably slower. It felt a little like wading through molasses, when he was moving in a direction that every cell in his body was telling him was wrong.  

Akechi stopped Ren at about half a meter’s distance. 

“Before you ask,” Ren said, “this feels terrible.” 

“I don’t feel particularly well, myself,” Akechi said. His hands were clutching his arms in a way that almost looked painful. He looked like he was going to fold in on himself. "Any more than this and it'll get uncomfortable for the both of us, it seems."

“Well, if you have your data,” Ren said, and quickly walked forwards again until he was standing by Akechi’s side. As soon as he did, he felt as if he could breathe again, and the anxious, uncomfortable feeling of being pulled forward and resisting disappeared. He looked at Akechi, at the things he’d only gotten close enough to notice a few times before– his eyelashes, the hard line of his jaw under the curve of his cheeks– and saw him relax, too, if only fractionally, if only through a short breath. 

“I didn’t realize,” Ren murmured. “How bad I felt. Until I saw… Until I got here. It was like…” He couldn’t think of a way to finish, and trailed off. 

“I thought I’d fallen sick,” Akechi said quietly. 

Ren swallowed. 

Akechi drew in a sharp breath. “We have to discuss this. Now.”  

"You need to come to Leblanc," Ren said. 

Akechi scoffed. "Why? Why should I be the one following you?” He sounded so derisive. It was still surprising to hear words like that come from a mouth that Ren had only heard say pretty words for months. 

“It’s as good a place to go as any,” Ren said. 

“No,” Akechi hissed. “It isn’t.” 

Ren could sense that Akechi was on the verge of losing his carefully-crafted composure. He’d been handling the situation remarkably well thus far, and Ren didn’t particularly feel like seeing him go berserk. Not near a shrine, at least; some things were still sacred. It was time for a diplomatic solution. "Neutral ground, then," Ren said. "Let's find some."

Akechi’s lip curled, but he didn’t voice any disagreement. “Fine.” 

“Fine,” Ren echoed. 

He wondered why he wasn’t panicking. That would probably come later. For now, though, he was remembering watching Akechi walk away from him on Christmas Eve, remembering the disbelief he’d felt- not just that Akechi was alive, but that he was leaving Ren’s life in a way that was so profoundly disappointing. 

He should have known, though, that it wasn’t the end. When it came to Akechi, things were always more complicated.  

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. 

Chapter Text

The next morning, Ren awoke to find himself on the verge of falling off his bed. He failed to suppress a surprised noise and flailed for a second before successfully regaining his balance and scooting closer to the wall. 

He realized that when he was flopped over on his stomach, his right arm had been dangling from the edge, extending towards the floor. He peered over. 

Akechi was still asleep, with half of his face pressed into the futon. His brow was furrowed as if he was in the middle of a troubling dream, and strands of his long, tawny hair were stuck to his face and to the pillow. Ren had never seen him like this before. It was a vulnerability distinct from the kind he had displayed in Shido's Palace– not a screaming catharsis torn raw from the fury of his heart, but something quiet and quotidian. 

Ren could not fail to notice that Akechi’s own arm was outstretched, too. Ren wondered if their fingertips had brushed in the night when one of them had shifted in his sleep. He stared at Akechi for another moment before rising quietly and getting dressed. 

When he finished Akechi was just stirring. Ren sat back on the bed and kept his eyes fixed on his phone as Akechi changed into some of the clothes he'd brought with him. They didn’t speak– not much at all, and certainly not about what had happened during the previous night. 

“We should see if we’re able to head into Mementos today,” Akechi said eventually. “Are you prepared?”

He was prepared as he’d ever be to return to a world of subconscious nightmares that he'd thought was gone forever. “Yup.” 

When it was time to go, Ren clambered carelessly down the stairs like he'd done so many times. No matter how strange everything else had become, this downward motion, this anticipation to go forth and forwards into a world that invited him without sympathy to rise to the challenge it offered, was familiar. Even though Akechi was close behind him, he might have forgotten about the new, strange state of things if it weren't for the sight at the base of the stairs that made him stop in his tracks.

Akechi let out an irked hiss when he almost crashed into Ren. “What are you–” Then he saw what Ren was looking at, and his voice changed. “Oh.” 

“So, you’re awake,” Sojiro said, glancing at them from his seat at a booth. Next to him, the strange boy from the day before turned around and smiled. Across from them sat Futaba, contentedly shoveling food into her mouth– and beside her, her mother, wearing a calm smile, her expression alert and alive. 

“I don’t know what the two of you are up to, but you can’t be in too much of a hurry to have breakfast,” Sojiro said.

“We don’t really have time,” Ren said, looking fixedly at the door. 

“Hey, you should always make time to eat!” the boy who was apparently Morgana said cheerfully. 

Ren was trying not to dwell on it. He was trying not to think about any of this. He felt like it was only a matter of time before someone pulled back a curtain from somewhere and revealed a smiling studio audience leaning forwards in their seats, looking intently at him with expressions of gleeful anticipation on their faces. 

“I didn’t know Akechi was sleeping over,” Futaba said. There was a small, quizzical frown on her face. “You guys are hanging out more lately, huh? But I don’t remember him ever…”  

Ren swallowed.

“I don’t…” Futaba repeated, and then she shook her head, and her expression turned irritated. “Ugh. What?"

“What is it?” Wakaba said lightly, and Ren tried not to flinch at the sound of her voice. Her daughter looked so much like her. “You have that look you get when you’re having trouble figuring something out.”

“Just feel weird,” Futaba muttered. “Maybe I need some fresh air." She perked up. "I’ll go get dessert! Back soon!” 

She stood up quickly and slipped out of the booth. It might have been Ren’s imagination, but she seemed to be avoiding looking in Akechi’s direction as she dashed out of the café.

The door closed behind her, leaving Ren unsettled. “Anyway,” he said, “we have to–”  

“Breakfast sounds lovely,” said Akechi.  

Ren slowly turned to Akechi. There was something steely about his pleasant smile. Incredulous, Ren looked pleadingly at him, but Akechi seemed to be purposefully choosing not to look back.

“Great,” Sojiro said. “More than enough to go around. You should take after this guy’s example, Ren.”

And so it was that Ren sat down with his guardian, his would-be murderer, his friend’s dead mother, and a human version of his cat. He ate little, sitting stiffly as Akechi made light conversation with Wakaba and Sojiro, speaking only to deflect Morgana’s inquiries about what was wrong with him. It was the longest meal of Ren’s life, but eventually, finally, it drew to a close when Akechi said “Thank you for the food,” stood up, and bowed slightly. 

“How formal,” Wakaba said with a teasing smile. “If you’re a friend of Ren’s, you’re welcome here anytime. Isn’t he, Sojiro?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sojiro said. “Don’t worry about it, kid.” 

“Of course,” Akechi said after a moment. “Thank you, once again.” 

If not for their mutual need for proximity, Ren would have run out of the café without giving Akechi another glance. As it was, he said a quick goodbye before heading for the door. 

Outside, Ren looked at Akechi, frowned, and then looked away. 

“If you have something to say, then say it,” Akechi said. 

“I don’t get it,” Ren muttered. “How you could just sit there and eat.” 

“What’s happened can’t be changed. On the other hand, there’s no reason to turn down a meal.”

Ren clenched his jaw. 

“Is it that you don’t like seeing me play nice? What about you?” Akechi folded his arms. “You were making jokes whenever… Morgana , or whatever that was, spoke to you.” 

“It was Morgana. He’s always wanted to be human. And I wasn’t…” Ren hesitated. “That’s just what I’m like. I have a sense of humor. You should try getting one.” 

“And now you’re doing it again,” Akechi said dryly. “By now you should know what I’m like, as well. No matter what you think of me, I won’t change.”

A moment came and went without either of them saying anything. 

“Until we know what’s going on,” Akechi finally said, “acting normal is important.” He smiled at Ren, a look that was somehow sardonic and a little coy at the same time. “Besides, I’m being honest with you , aren’t I?”

Ren knew that he couldn’t let Akechi keep getting to him like this, but even so, the words he was going to say dried up suddenly in his throat. Luckily, he was saved from having to respond by the sudden ringing of his phone. 

“Go ahead,” Akechi said. 

Ren picked up, and was surprised to find that it was Kasumi. 

“Senpai! I’m glad you answered.” Her voice was tinny and nervous. “I’m in Odaiba right now, and…”

Ren listened, offered up some reassuring words, and promised to meet her there as soon as he could. Then he hung up and told Akechi about how, apparently, Kasumi had happened upon a Palace. 

“Well, it seems we have a new destination,” Akechi said, and in a little while, they were on the train.  

At this time of day, Ren had half-expected to fight flocks of people at the station, but there had only been a thin crowd, and the train was empty enough for both himself and Akechi to get a seat. It made a strange kind of sense. In this new world, where everyone seemed to have smiles on their faces and scars left by grief and strife had been erased as if they never existed, inconvenience in the subway system would have seemed out of place.   

The train began to move soon after they sat down. After a moment, Ren glanced at Akechi and said, “I’m not sure you are being honest with me, by the way. You won’t tell me how you’re still alive, for one thing.”

“I don’t appreciate that you apparently think so little of me that you expected me to be dead,” Akechi said haughtily. “That aside, you haven’t been completely forthcoming with your information either.”  

“What?”

“Yoshizawa,” Akechi said. “You didn’t mention she was a Persona-user.”

Ren frowned. “There were other things to talk about. I wasn’t trying to hide it.” 

“A Persona-user acquainted with you, but one who isn’t a Phantom Thief,” Akechi commented. “How curious.”  

“I asked her to join. She turned me down, actually.”

“Hmm, did she?”

Something in his voice– “We’re just friends,” Ren said.

“Is that so.” Akechi sounded as if he didn’t care one way or the other. 

The apparent indifference made Ren feel a little vindictive, but he swallowed the urge to provoke Akechi. If they were going to remain attached at the hip, he was going to have to learn to tolerate the many frustrating things Akechi did. He looked away, resolving to remain silent for the rest of the ride. 

Of course Akechi was the first to suggest entering the Palace immediately. When he had, he’d looked the most spirited that Ren had seen him since his mysterious resurrection. To Ren, it made sense that Akechi enjoyed fighting. He liked high stakes and any kind of competition, and he clearly had a lot of pent-up aggression. And, of course, he loved winning. 

Kasumi kept staring at Akechi’s outfit. Ren couldn’t blame her. He himself could hardly believe that the manifestation of Akechi’s spirit of rebellion involved so many belts. 

After it became clear that Akechi had no intention of explaining The Situation to Kasumi, Ren took the slightly painful task upon himself.

“I... see,” Kasumi said, looking confused. “But why is it happening?”

“We’re not sure yet,” Ren said. “But this Palace might give us some clues.” 

“So that’s what you wanted to talk to Ren about yesterday, Akechi,” Kasumi said. “To be honest, I thought…” Kasumi blinked a few times, rapidly. “Well…”

“What is it?” asked Ren.

“I just…” She laughed, a little sheepishly. “I’ve heard that the New Year is a popular time for people to confess, so…”   

Ren wanted to quip that Akechi had already done that when he’d told Ren that he hated him, but that would only serve to confuse Kasumi unnecessarily. He scratched the back of his neck.  

“Oh?” Akechi said casually. 

“I’m so sorry for making assumptions,” Kasumi said quickly. “It’s just that Akechi seemed rather serious, and... Um. Forgive me! In any case, it looks like I was worried for nothing. Oh, I didn’t mean…” Her voice rose to a high pitch. “Shall we continue?” She turned away and quickly strode forwards. 

Ren looked at her retreating back and sighed. That could turn out to be a problem later. 

“Your circle of admirers grows ever larger, Joker,” Akechi said nonchalantly. 

“Let’s just go.” 

It wasn’t long before they had to fight. They took down the first Shadow they ran into with little trouble, but things began to go wrong during the second encounter. Ren couldn’t figure out the weakness of the last Shadow left standing, and the spell he'd tried to hit it with had missed. 

Akechi moved to cover for him, leaping over to the Shadow and raising his formidable sword. The pulling that Ren could always feel increased and grew more urgent as the distance between them did. Akechi faltered in his attack and looked over his shoulder at Ren. “Hey, Joker –”

Ren was already running. 

Akechi turned back to the Shadow and swung his sword, but now their enemy had been alerted to his intent– the attack didn’t connect. 

Akechi swore. The Shadow cackled and summoned a burst of energy. Ren was blindsided when its spell hit him. The attack sent him to the ground with the telling, stinging force of a critical hit.  

"Joker!” Akechi yelled. Ren had been knocked too far away from him; he started to sprint closer.   

“Wait,” Ren wheezed. “The enemy–”  

It was too late– the Shadow rushed over and walloped Akechi with a crude physical strike. 

Akechi hadn't been paying attention; he took the blow on his left arm, hard. "Fuck," he bit out as he went down, crashing to the floor next to Ren. 

"Cendrillon!" 

A burst of light erupted in the corner of Ren’s vision as Kougaon made contact. The Shadow gave a dying cry before finally exploding into dust. 

Kasumi ran over to the two of them. “Senpai! Akechi! Are you all right?” 

Ren winced and called up Titania, allowing Mediarahan to soothe his and Akechi’s wounds. “Yeah.” He got to his feet. 

Akechi slowly rose as well, rubbing his arm. “Well,” he muttered, “at least one of us is capable.”

“Uh… thank you?” Kasumi said tentatively. 

"I can't fight like this," Akechi said, scowling. 

Ren felt inclined to agree. He was used to feeling a familiar sense of flow in battle, and now everything had been frustratingly disrupted. It was like re-learning how to walk. 

“If I may…” Kasumi said suddenly. “Why don’t you two try creating a routine?” 

They looked at her.

“Oh… that probably wasn’t the right word.” She tapped a finger against her chin. “I only meant… Well, it looks like merely putting up with the link between the two of you isn’t helping. You could try working with it instead of against it.” 

Ren smiled slightly. “How do we do that, Coach?”

“Um…” Kasumi went a little red. “I’m not exactly sure. But maybe you could start by coordinating your physical attacks, and striking simultaneously. Making a perfect gymnastics routine is all about timing! Er, not that this is gymnastics, of course.”

“All right,” Ren said. “Let’s try that. Sound good, Crow?”

“Fine,” Akechi said brusquely. 

And so they moved on. 

There were several other reasons why fighting had become more jarring. Ren kept getting thrown off by how odd it was to have Akechi barking navigation advice– oftentimes right in his ear. And his attention was drawn by the stark contrast between the ways Kasumi and Akechi fought. She was smilingly graceful while he was mercilessly efficient, and the shimmering power of her Persona's Bless spells contrasted with the warped energy of Akechi’s Curse attacks. 

For all of the qualms Kasumi seemed to have about Akechi’s ruthlessness, she seemed to adapt quickly to fighting with him. She even beamed when Akechi nodded approvingly and offered a curt “Good,” after one battle during which Kasumi had landed the finishing blow.

He and Akechi began to take Kasumi's advice and attack simultaneously. It was less difficult than Ren had thought it would be. It was gradually becoming easier to predict what Akechi was going to do, and somehow Akechi seemed able to understand Ren's signaling glances and gestures in turn. 

Akechi himself was a sight to behold. He fought completely without the restraint expressed by the white-clothed Detective Prince. It was clear that back then, he’d barely been lifting a finger to try. Now he was obviously relishing in the opportunity to unleash the full extent of his abilities. The maniacal laughter was a little much, sure, but Ren wasn’t unsettled. It felt right. Seeing honesty from Akechi enlivened him. Over the course of his acquaintance with Akechi, Ren had always felt closest to him during the moments when Akechi had allowed the mask to slip a little. Now they were finally on equal terms. In a strange way, it made Ren happy. 

Since everyone else was pulling their weight, Ren decided to step up his game. He summoned his strongest Personae when it wasn't strictly necessary, going through almost his entire stock. He sometimes put style over substance when he lunged with his dagger, and he fired his gun with a dramatic flair. 

After a while of that, Akechi said, “You don’t have to showboat, you know.”

Ren was finally starting to feel good, like he always did after a while of dedicated fighting– tired in the satisfied way of someone who enjoyed their work, and buzzing with a pleasant feeling of adrenaline. He grinned cheekily at Akechi. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  

Akechi huffed, and then Ren thought he saw him smile back, but that may have only been a trick of the light reflecting off of his visor. 

Finding out that the ruler of the Palace was the closest thing he’d ever had to a therapist was distressing, but at least Ren was feeling optimistic about his new team. However, even this small comfort was abruptly taken away when they found out that Kasumi wasn't really Kasumi.

The fight that ensued was the most difficult yet, but the small amount of practice with fighting in sync that he and Akechi had garnered helped them improvise a technique. Ren may have been prone to showing off a little, but after that, he was sure that out of the two of them, it was Akechi who had more of an affinity for the dramatic. 

"Give Sumire back," Ren said, when it was over.

Maruki shook his head. "She's made her choice. Like I said, I want you to witness this new reality for yourselves. After you do, you'll find that her decision makes sense."

"Enough. We don't have to listen to this," Akechi snapped. "And what's more, you haven't said anything about what you've done to us."

"Done to you… Yes." Maruki's face turned grave. "I apologize for that. The formation of an actualization link wasn't my intention."

“Actualization link?” Ren said.

"You mean this was an accident?" Akechi said, disdainful and incredulous. 

“I only intended to fulfill your wishes– but, to be honest, I’m not used to operating on such a large scale yet. I'm still working on tinkering with a few things." He looked genuinely sympathetic. "I hope neither of you are suffering because of this. Of course, there may be a way to…"

Maruki's expression turned contemplative. Then he nodded, or lifted a finger, or made some other gesture so slight that Ren barely noticed it before it felt like something gave a yank on the invisible string that was connecting himself and Akechi. 

Ren didn't remember moving, but in the next second, he and Akechi went flying towards each other, both of them crying out. Akechi's head went knocking into Ren's shoulder, his leg crashing against Ren's own until they were both sent to the ground. And– 

It felt soothing, Ren thought, there on the floor entangled with him. Like a relief. Like scratching an itch or taking a drink when he was parched. Of course. Before this, Ren realized, they had been resisting their connection– the actualization link, Maruki had said– by refusing to touch each other. They had only allowed it as much space as it was possible to take up without being granted the mercy of tactile sense. 

Ren's breath caught as he met Akechi's eyes. Akechi looked like he was thinking along the same lines as Ren and wasn't taking it well. His face hardened, and he shoved Ren away with enough force to hurt. 

Maruki was watching them. "I can see how this isn't ideal," he admitted. "But in this world, I want people to feel free to bear their hearts to one another. Things should be easier if you keep that in mind."

And then, before they could even get to their feet, he disappeared without giving them any more answers. 

Outside the Palace and back in the real world, Maruki's parting words rung in Ren's ears. January 9th. A week from now, they'd have to come back here. 

"Sumire," Ren said, when Akechi was done with his griping. He remembered the horror-struck pain on her face, the visible torment of being split in half. "We have to–" 

"We're helpless right now," Akechi said shortly. "We need information. We'll use this week to investigate Maruki. Then, ideally, we'll be prepared to return to the palace." He hesitated. “I just need some time. I need–” He scowled. “Goddamnit.”

“What now?”  

Akechi shut his eyes briefly before opening them again. "Right now, what I need is to be alone, to think . And because of that madman in there–” he gestured towards the stadium– “and his deluded design, that isn't an option.” 

"Tell you what," Ren said dryly. "You can just close your eyes while you do your thinking, and it'll be like I'm not even there."

Akechi scoffed and turned away. "A new reality," he murmured. "Pathetic."

Ren watched him. In his prim coat and collared shirt, Akechi looked nothing like the menacing Black Mask. It was as if he suppressed the fury he couldn’t wear openly with the harsh words he spoke and the straight lines of his clothing and his stiff back. 

Now that Ren knew how much of a relief it’d be to touch Akechi and give in to the urging of their link as much as he could, he couldn’t suppress the temptation. He started to reach out– 

Akechi spun around. "Well, time to move on," he said. "I suppose we're heading back to Leblanc, aren't we?" Without waiting for Ren to respond, he turned again and began walking in the direction of the station. 

Ren sighed and followed him.

Chapter Text

Sometimes Akechi used his laptop to type notes, and at other times Ren would see him write with a brisk, focused hand in a small black notebook. The evening after they returned from the expedition into Maruki’s Palace, Ren asked him why.

Akechi looked at him from where he was installed on the faded sofa, one leg crossed over the other. He was quickly encroaching upon every part of Ren’s space, leaving the memory of himself wherever he sat or stood or hovered. Ren wondered how long it would be before he couldn't look at anything in the attic without remembering the striking image of Akechi alongside it. 

“I prefer to take digital notes,” Akechi told Ren. "But anything involving material of a more sensitive nature goes in my notebook.” 

Ren thought he could imagine the contents of the sensitive notes that Akechi had previously taken, but there wasn't much use in thinking about that now. “Physical notes might be more secure, but wouldn’t it be easier to get rid of digital notes in a hurry?" he asked. "If the wrong person got their hands on that notebook, it'd be over.”  

“Perhaps that’s true." Akechi smiled slightly. "But material things– things you can feel and hold– inspire a certain confidence, don’t they?” 

It felt like one of those refreshingly mundane conversations they sometimes had before everything– before Shido’s Palace and Sae’s, at a restaurant or the jazz club or Penguin Sniper. As they'd been speaking Ren had drifted closer to where Akechi was sitting, and now he was near enough to the old sofa to stand over him. In response, Akechi immediately turned stiff and leaned as far backwards as he could, to the point that he was flattening himself against the upholstery, like he was trying to avoid being seen an ex at a party. Not that Ren assumed Akechi attended many parties. 

“Oh, come on,” Ren said. “Don’t you feel the–”

“Of course I feel it." Akechi stood up suddenly, forcing Ren to step backwards, and folded his arms.

They glared at one another. 

"You know, this doesn’t have to be another thing that you make difficult,” Ren said evenly. 

"Forgive me,” Akechi snapped. “It must have slipped my mind that you’re unshakeable. Of course you’d take all of this in stride. Of course you’d listen to that madman’s deranged ramblings without so much as blinking.”

“Or,” Ren said, “I’m just better at adapting when things aren’t going my way. Doesn’t really seem like that’s one of your many skills.” 

Akechi’s expression turned harsh. The last remnants of his composure vanished completely when he abruptly reached out, took hold of the collar of Ren’s shirt, and yanked, hard.

Ren stumbled forwards and tried to maintain his footing as Akechi’s glare intensified.

“You don’t know anything about me,” Akechi said, his voice a low hiss. His face was mere inches away from Ren’s, and his eyes were burning. 

“This isn’t what I meant by not being difficult,” Ren said sharply. Feeling irritation rising, he moved to shove Akechi away. 

Maybe he shoved a little harder than he meant to. 

Ten seconds later, they were engaged in the kind of brawl Ren hadn’t been in since a playground bully stole his lunch in the fourth grade. 

Ren tried to brace with his arms as Akechi rammed into him with enough force to push him the floor. “If you would just–” 

Rather than letting him finish, Akechi raised a fist.

Ren dodged the punch. They wrestled for another minute, neither of them quite managing to get the upper hand, until Ren struck out blindly and managed to hit Akechi’s jaw. 

“Shit!” Akechi’s hand flew up at once to cover his face. 

“Oops,” Ren said. “Are you–”

Akechi spoke over him, voice rising in frustration. “You’re such a goddamn–” 

“Boys?”

The two of them stopped struggling at once. 

The loud, authoritative voice coming from downstairs had been Sojiro’s.

Ren swallowed. “Yeah?” he called, glancing first in the direction of the stairs and then at Akechi, who was crouching over him, still clutching at his own face. Akechi's expression was caught in an odd place between wary and feral. He looked to be thrumming, still, with tension, alight with the adrenaline of a fight, and he was staring at Ren with an unblinking gaze. 

“Everything okay?” Sojiro sounded suspicious. 

Ren had to look away from Akechi so he could find the words with which to reply. “Yup,” he said loudly. His face felt hot. “Just knocked over a couple boxes.” 

"Well, be careful," came Sojiro's voice. "And clean up if you made a mess."

“Will do,” Ren replied hoarsely.

The next second of silence felt much longer than it was, before Akechi broke the spell and rose abruptly. He strode over to the sofa, but rather than sitting on it, he sunk to the floor and leaned against it with an annoyed sigh. 

Ren stood up and gestured at his own face, feeling awkward. “Is your…”

Akechi rolled his eyes and looked away. “Oh, I’ve had much worse.”

Ren came over and sat next to him on the floor. When Akechi didn’t pull away, Ren moved closer– and closer, and closer, slowly testing the waters. 

Eventually he’d gotten close enough for their shoulders to touch. Still, Akechi didn’t move. He had closed his eyes. For another moment, he was perfectly still. 

And then, he put his hands over his face, and his shoulders started to shake. 

“Akechi?” Ren said, concerned. He peered closer, unsure if Akechi was crying. He wasn’t sure if he knew how to handle a crying Akechi. 

Then Ren heard a loud snort. 

“Uh,” said Ren. 

Akechi took his hands away from his face, and Ren could suddenly see that he was laughing. He was laughing as Ren had never seen Akechi laugh before– a loud, full-bodied laugh that bordered on obnoxious. As Ren watched in mild amazement, he shook his head back and forth. "This," he said, between guffaws, "is such a fucking nightmare."  

Ren couldn’t keep a smile from blooming on his own face. “Yeah,” he said. “It is.” 

Suddenly, a lot of things seemed worthy of laughter. Like the fact that his cat was now apparently a person, and his meek sort-of therapist was actually some kind of megalomaniac with Metaverse powers, and he was incapable of going more than twenty centimeters away from the boy he’d once regarded as an enemy. It was so hopelessly ridiculous that it was funny. And so Ren started laughing, too. 

The two of them carried on like that for another few moments, still sitting next to each other on the floor. When their mirth finally subsided, Ren took a breath and said, “We really need to find better ways to cope with this.” 

Akechi closed his eyes again, letting his head fall back against the sofa. "I suppose we do."

"Is touching me that bad?" Ren said, half-joking. 

After a pause, Akechi said, "It isn’t that it’s you. This probably won’t make sense to you, but this kind of… proximity… with anyone doesn’t come easily for me.”

"It's not easy for me, either, you know."

Akechi breathed a short, disbelieving laugh and opened his eyes. “Oh, yeah?” He looked at Ren. “I can’t even recall how many times I’ve seen you bumping shoulders with that blond friend of yours. Or any one of your other Thieves.” 

Ren supposed that it would be shortsighted to underestimate a detective’s observation skills. "You don’t have to pretend not to know Ryuji’s name. Anyway, they’re my friends. I don’t mind because I’ve known them for a while.” And what he had forged with the rest of the Phantom Thieves was a solid camaraderie born from blood. His bond with them was something that made all of the barriers he had ever tried to build between himself and other people seem trivial. “But in general, I've never liked getting too close,” he admitted. 

Akechi considered him for a moment before he looked away. “Well, that so-called psychiatrist’s machinations have made it so what we’re comfortable with is irrelevant. Our agency has been stripped from us, to the point where we're hardly in control of our own bodies."

"Maruki said this new reality is one where everyone can be happy," Ren said, remembering. 

“He’s deranged,” Akechi said, vehement. “Adults like him are the worst type of people. They’re so caught up in their delusions of grandeur that they’ll think nothing of using anything or anyone to accomplish their ends.” 

Ren hesitated. “That’s… all true, but I think he’s different from everyone else we’ve faced.” 

“Is he really?" Akechi returned. "In any way that matters?”

“You heard him talk about what he wants. Something’s definitely wrong with him, but his intentions aren’t bad.” 

“There’s no point in trying to examine his motives,” Akechi replied dismissively. “He’s just an egomaniac.” 

Ren didn’t think he agreed completely, but it was hard to oppose Akechi when Ren was still caught on the memory of Maruki’s eyes, glinting with confidence as he’d held an unconscious Sumire in his arms. The shock of betrayal remained with Ren still. He could feel it reverberating through him and simmering slowly into a burgeoning anger. It had taken him by complete surprise when one of the few adults he trusted had emerged as the ruler of the Palace. It had hurt. 

Ren felt suddenly exhausted. He didn’t want to think about any of it– he didn’t want to think at all anymore. He glanced at Akechi. "Well, one good thing about this touching thing,” he said. 

“What?” 

“If you end up getting so fed up that you strangle me, it probably won’t feel that bad. I mean, not as bad as it would otherwise.” 

Akechi stared at him. "I've wanted to ask you for a while. What's wrong with you?"

Ren shrugged. 

"Why," Akechi continued, "do you say the things you say? What must be going through your mind to inspire the bizarre…” He trailed off and shook his head, as if at a loss.  

Ren grinned. “Maybe I just like riling you up.”

"Making jokes about how I tried to kill you is an odd coping mechanism," Akechi said, voice brittle. 

So they were finally going to talk about it.

Or were they? Ren couldn’t exactly think of something to say in response. He was instead caught on the way Akechi kept pointing out that habit of Ren’s– the flippant way he made light of things. Before coming to Tokyo he'd been known as the quietly witty kind of class clown, but no one had ever seemed to care about why he made his jokes. Having Akechi call him out made Ren feel strangely judged, and strangely known. "Well, it mostly works,” Ren finally replied.

"I think you're completely demented," Akechi informed him. 

Ren smiled again. "Noted."

“Anyway,” Akechi added, “you have nothing to fear. There’d be little sense in me trying to get rid of you while I’m seeking your help.” 

“I wasn’t afraid.”

“Whatever.” 

“If it’s easier to stay close,” Ren ventured, “we should probably just do that. Until… after we stop Maruki, I guess. Or we figure out how to get rid of the actualization link. Whatever comes first.” 

“Yes,” Akechi said, after a pause. “Until then. Fine.” 

They lapsed into silence. So they really weren’t going to talk about the attempted murder thing. That was probably for the best. Ren wasn't sure if he was prepared for that conversation. 

“You said we have to investigate him,” Ren said at last. “What are we going to do?” 

“I’ll tell you later," was the only reply he got. 

Ren resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Akechi really was bossy– it was a childish word, a playground term, but being around him really did make Ren want to act like a kid. It made him want to throw juvenile punches, to put his energy into competition and petty games. It made him want to follow through on his instincts and inclinations, everything else be damned. 

“You should focus on what we discussed earlier,” Akechi told him. “You’re set on trying to win over your friends, aren’t you?” 

Ren just nodded.

“If you’re planning on making personal appeals, I suppose I’ll have to go with you,” Akechi murmured. “But,” he added conversationally, “I can’t help but wonder if those Thieves of yours even want to be appealed to.” 

Ren tried to ignore the feeling of mounting dread in the pit of his stomach. “Hey. You want to play a video game?”

Akechi frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but Ren cut him off. “Don’t worry, I’m still taking all of this seriously. But it’s been a long day and if I don’t do something that isn’t sit and think for an hour, I’m going to go crazy. So just play a game with me. Okay?” 

After a second, Akechi said, “Well, all right. We were interrupted earlier, after all. It’s a paltry excuse for a rematch, but it’ll do."

"If you want to kick my ass, you'll have to do it in two-player mode this time," Ren told him. "Grab a controller."

For the second morning in a row, Ren almost fell out of bed. This time, it was because someone was there with him. 

When he’d first become groggily aware of the weight on his mattress, he’d half-expected Akechi– now, wouldn’t that be something– but the culprit was somebody much more cuddly, even in newly-human form. Ren quickly disentangled himself from Morgana and scrambled off the bed, willing his heart rate to return to normal. 

Ren watched Morgana yawn and stretch leisurely. He sat up in bed and blinked slowly at Ren before smiling. “Oh, hey! Good morning.” 

“Morgana,” Ren said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why are you–” 

“Because he’s your cat.”  

Ren looked down. Akechi was lying on his side on the futon, one eyebrow raised and one hand propping up his chin. “It’s only natural that he’d remember sleeping in your bed,” he remarked, sounding nonplussed. 

“A cat?” This newly human approximation of Morgana laughed, and then looked suddenly perturbed. “I’m not…”

Ren saw his chance. “Morgana,” he said. “Try to remember.”

“Remember? Oh… wait a second.” Morgana’s brow furrowed. The troubled expression on his face was uncannily similar to the way Sumire had looked after encountering Maruki in the Palace. “I don’t get it.” He climbed out of bed, seemingly distracted. “I think I can remember something, but what’s…”  

Ren worried his lower lip. Something told him he’d have to be delicate about this.  “Morgana,” he tried. “We used to sleep together.” On the other hand, getting straight to the point might be more helpful. 

“What?” A look of recognition dawned on Morgana’s face. “Oh! Yeah, I used to… I used to be a…”  

Akechi sighed theatrically.

Ren ignored him, focusing on Morgana. “Are you okay?”   

“Yeah, I’m fine. But I think I need some time alone,” Morgana said, sounding unsettled. “I’ll have breakfast later. Uh, bye, for now.” 

He and Akechi watched him retreat hurriedly down the stairs. 

“That inspires confidence,” Akechi remarked. 

“He’ll come around,” Ren said. He had to. 

Akechi made a noncommittal noise and changed the subject. “By the way, I called Yoshizawa’s parents.”

“You did? When?” 

“While you were asleep.” He looked grim. “They’re completely convinced that Yoshizawa’s at a training camp.”

Ren frowned. “So Maruki can really…”

“Change reality. To whatever end he wills. I never thought power like that could exist.”

The two of them were silent for a few seconds, processing the implications. 

“We don’t have time to waste this week,” Akechi said. “You’ll cooperate during my investigation, correct?”

“Only if you cooperate with me."

“Right.” Akechi looked displeased, but at least he seemed willing to work with Ren. “Let’s set out after breakfast. We might as well start as soon as possible, if we're going to be waking all of your friends up from this world of dreams.”    

They found Ann with Shiho in the underground mall. 

“Ren! Oh, and Akechi, too!” She smiled at them. “Akechi, have you met–”

“Shiho Suzui,” Akechi said. “I know who she is.” 

Ren tensed. 

“Um… how do you know my name?” Shiho looked confused.

“I worked on the Phantom Thieves’ case, of course," Akechi replied nonchalantly. 

“Akechi,” Ren said quietly. 

“The… case?” Ann looked confused. “I don’t…”

“Ann,” Ren said. He considered her– her arm linked with Shiho's, her cheeks still a little flushed from the outside cold. “Are you happy like this?”  

“Well, yeah!" Ann's face brightened. "Much happier than I was before. Before, I was…” She suddenly looked lost. “That’s weird." 

"Ann, are you okay?" Shiho cocked her head. 

Ann lowered her head, frowning distantly. "I can’t really remember.” 

“You will,” Ren said.

Ann looked up at him, her eyes widening, before she shook her head a little, as if to clear it. "Well, me and Shiho should probably get going, so… I'll talk to you later, okay, Ren?"

“I must admit, I was surprised that someone as accomplished as yourself was able to meet with me on such short notice,” Akechi said.

The woman sitting across from them in the busy café smiled. “To be honest, this is out of the ordinary for me. But my workload has been strangely light lately. I’ve had a lot of time in my schedule, so I thought… why not? And I always enjoy meeting young people interested in studying psychology.” 

Ren put down his cup of coffee. Since coming to Tokyo, he'd developed more discerning tastes when it came to drinks. Even in a dream world, overpriced coffee from a chain store was still sub-par. 

"How nice," Akechi said politely. “I also didn't expect to find that we seem to have a mutual acquaintance.” 

“Likewise. Takuto Maruki, huh?” The woman looked thoughtful. “He was always willing to put in the work. And incredibly passionate.” 

“I'm curious," Akechi said. "You mentored him while he was a student. Did he ever mention his future plans?” 

“Hmm… He was always interested in trying to develop a new kind of treatment for patients. Related to cognition, I believe. At one point, his work seemed so promising that he had the support to open a research facility.” 

“Is that so?” Akechi suddenly looked very interested.  

“Yes, but… it never happened. His funding was cut off. I’m not sure why," the professor admitted. "It's a little strange… but that's how it is in academia sometimes."

"I'm sure," Akechi said.

“Um… what about you?" The professor cocked her head, and Ren realized she was looking at him. "Are you also planning to apply to the university?"

“Oh, he’s an underclassman,” Akechi said. “He’s assisting me with the project for a class that I mentioned before.” 

“Yup,” Ren said, with a bland smile. “Always happy to help, senpai.”

The next day they saw Ryuji at Shujin’s gates.

“Isn’t running more of an individual sport?” Akechi said pleasantly. “I fail to see the need for a team.”

“What?” Ryuji looked annoyed. “I mean, I guess that’s true, but– Ren, why are you hanging out with this guy? He’s never– Well, we’re your friends.”

“Ryuji,” Ren said. “Do you remember how we met?”

“Uh, sure. At the station… we were both late for school…” Ryuji’s eyes widened. “Wait.”

“Keep thinking it over.” Akechi smiled. “Unless you've decided to use your talent to run from the truth instead.”

“Uh… okay, whatever. I’m going to head out,” Ryuji muttered. “See you later.” 

After he left, Ren glanced at Akechi. “Are you just planning on provoking them into snapping out of it?”

Akechi brushed some hair out of his eyes. “I’ll let you take the lead, but right now, your friends seem quite reluctant to leave this false world. I don't see the harm in pushing them a little. Besides, I think it’s working, don’t you?”

Ren sighed. "Just don't overdo it."

“So…” Sojiro paused from his work putting things in their place behind the counter. "Akechi, you're staying over… indefinitely?” 

Sojiro had spoken up just when Ren and Akechi were about to go up the stairs. Ren was behind Akechi, close enough to reach out and touch his back, if he wanted. The insistent tugging of the actualization link had been less annoying ever since Akechi had stopped flinching away from him, which made putting up with it a lot easier. 

“I'm terribly sorry to impose. The truth is that my apartment flooded, and I have nowhere else to go,” Akechi said, laughing a little. 

“Hm," Sojiro said. "Well, I don't mind, but I hope you two are, uh, taking care of yourselves."

"We're doing fine," Ren said. "Don't worry."

"I'm not worrying. It's just that you're young– it’s a little early in your relationship to be cohabitating.”

“A little early in our–” Akechi opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. "That's… funny, Boss, but I assure you that nothing of the sort is–"

"Yeah, yeah," Sojiro said, smiling. "Don't worry. I was young once too, you know."

Akechi glanced at Ren. "A little help?" he whisper-hissed. 

Ren just smiled and stayed silent. He preferred to enjoy the show. 

"You two are getting along well," Ren said, looking at Makoto and Sae.

"Yes, it's been nice," Makoto said absently. She was frowning at Akechi.

"Is something the matter?" Akechi said pleasantly. 

“No. Well...” Makoto glanced at Sae. "I was just thinking. Sis was always spending time with…" She looked at Akechi again. "I was jealous," she said softly. "But… there’s no reason why I should have felt that way. Is there?” 

“You know, Niijima,” Akechi said offhandedly, “I hear you’re top of your class at Shujin. It’s strange that someone like that should be so slow to realize the truth.” 

“Excuse me?” Makoto said, eyes narrowing. 

"You’re close,” Ren said quickly, before Akechi could reply. “I’ll wait.” 

For a moment, she stared at him like he was a difficult homework assignment. Then, slowly, she nodded. 

"He looks like this," Akechi said, showing his phone to the cashier in the convenience store. "His name is Takuto Maruki. He lives nearby. We were wondering if you could tell us anything about him."

The cashier just frowned. "Why are you two asking?" He gave them a look that Ren had seen many times by now– the disdainful one that adults seemed to reserve specifically for teenagers. 

But Ren had garnered a significant amount of practice dealing with disdainful adults by this point. "We're students at Shujin Academy, where he used to work," Ren said. "We heard he got a new job, so we all wanted to send him a gift basket. But we aren't sure what kind of things he likes." 

"Oh." The cashier seemed to warm to them a little. "Why didn't you just lead with that? I do know that guy. He comes in pretty often. Um…" 

"Yes?" Akechi prodded. 

“Well," the cashier said, "I definitely remember he bought a lot of snacks.”

They waited for a moment, but it seemed as if that was all they were going to get. 

“Makes sense,” Ren said.

Akechi glared at him.

“What?" Ren shrugged. "He always had a lot of snacks.” 

When she saw Akechi, Haru stepped back so quickly she almost stumbled.

"Careful, there!" Her father– her somehow-breathing father– caught her before she could fall. 

Haru barely took notice of him, or of Ren– her eyes were still focused on Akechi. “No! Don’t come near me. You’re going to–” 

Akechi said nothing.

"You'll… ruin everything," Haru said haltingly. "Um…" 

"Haru," Ren tried. "I just came to talk."

Haru stared at him for a second, and then her expression shifted from frightened to confused. "Oh. I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me." 

“Is something the matter?” The expression of concern on Okumura’s face was genuine, through and through. 

Haru shook her head as if trying to dispel a poisonous thought. “How strange,” she murmured. “I got the feeling that I’m… not supposed to be here. Father, do we have an appointment?”

“I don’t think so.” Okumura looked surprised. “Perhaps you’re just feeling a little tired. What say we have lunch?” 

“That would be nice.” Haru smiled slightly. Then she glanced at Ren and Akechi, and looked suddenly uneasy again. “Ren…”

“You can get through this,” Ren told her. 

Haru swallowed. “Right. Um, goodbye for now.” 

She walked away quickly, following her father. Ren watched them leave. 

“Done?” Akechi said brusquely. 

Ren turned back to him. They held each other’s gazes for a moment, and then, finally, Ren said, “Yeah. Let’s go.”   

Akechi finished putting his dirty clothes into the machine, shut it closed, and said, “By the way, there's something I have to tell you."

Leaning against the row of dryers, Ren watched him. Seeing Akechi do laundry was odd. It was such a profoundly mundane activity. Prior to all this, whenever Ren visualized Akechi, he had pictured him signing autographs with a glamorous TV smile. Then Akechi had let him into his apartment, and spoken of note-taking in his attic, and beaten him soundly in a multi-player video game, and everything had changed. "What is it?" Ren replied. 

There was no one else in the laundromat, save for the two of them. Akechi crossed his arms. "By all definitions of the word, both Okumura senior and Wakaba Isshiki are alive. I've looked into it. It isn't just that Maruki created cognitions of them– in this world, it's as if they never died." 

Ren let that sink in for a moment. “What about the Phantom Thieves?” he said eventually.

“There’s no record of your arrest in this reality. It seems Maruki did make the convenient revisions he promised us.”

“What do you think?” Ren said. “About all this?”

Akechi’s lip curled. “Isn’t it obvious by now?” He looked at Ren, defiant. “I won’t accept living under his thumb. I’m going to choose my own path. That’s how I’ll keep living, from here until the end.” 

Ren glanced away, his eyes falling on the circular, repetitive motion of clothes being tossed in the machine. Akechi was clearly unwavering in his conviction. He wished he could summon the same kind of confidence. 

"Artists seek to represent life's truths," Akechi said. "Isn't that right?"

“Well, of course,” Yusuke said, looking troubled. “I have always tried to paint the truth.”

Yusuke was never one to tolerate lies. Ren nodded at the painting behind him. ”Do you remember where that painting was?” 

“The Sayuri,” Yusuke said, turning to look at it. “My mother’s painting. It was…” Then something like realization dawned in his eyes. 

“Ah, it’s Akechi and Ren,” Wakaba said pleasantly. “You two should join us for lunch. Sojiro’s paying.”

Sojiro sighed. “Hey, I never said…”  

“Thanks,” Ren said, “but I just wanted to talk to Futaba for a minute.”

She was idly browsing near one of the racks, and looked up at them when they approached. “Seriously, Ren, this guy again?” Futaba frowned at Akechi. “You know, something about you really annoys me. No offense.” 

“None taken,” Akechi said. His face was a perfectly blank mask. “The fact that you don’t like me makes complete sense. In fact, if you’d think a little harder, you’d realize that you actually hate me.”

Futaba cocked her head, brows knitting together. “Hate you?” 

“Yes,” Akechi said matter-of-factly. “You just need to remember why.” 

Futaba looked baffled. Then her eyes narrowed. "Wait," she said shortly. "Something feels wrong." She glanced over to where Wakaba and Sojiro were talking to each other, and something in her face changed. 

"It's… like a dream, all of this," Ren said carefully. “Isn’t it?” 

“I… I need to think,” Futaba said abruptly. She bit her lip. “Ren, maybe you should just go.” She gave Akechi another sour look before she stalked away, to rejoin…

Her family. The three of them looked just like a family. Sojiro's arm was around Futaba, now, and she was saying something to her mother. Ren couldn't stop looking at them smiling at each other. 

"Ren?"

Ren turned. 

Akechi was looking at him. "Did you hear me?"

"Oh. Sorry, no."

Akechi sighed. “I said, perhaps I came on too strongly. Ren, I’m aware that this is difficult. For you.”

Ren must have looked skeptical, because Akechi frowned and added, “The more of your friends we’ve encountered, the more miserable you’ve looked. It’s not exactly hard to tell.”

Ren fiddled with his bangs. “They're all happy. They've all gotten what they wanted."

It seemed… so easy. Just a few things had to be changed, and his friends all looked to be better off. 

And if there was anyone who deserved an easy kind of happiness, it was Futaba. 

“It’s not real.”

Ren looked at Akechi, surprised.

“It’s a lie,” Akechi continued, his voice firm. “And all lies…” He sighed, a heavy sound that made him seem much older than he was. “All lies unravel eventually. You can’t forget that. You’re the only one who–”

He cut himself off, and Ren watched him take a short breath. Then Akechi said, quietly, “I would prefer not to have to do this by myself.”  

“You won’t have to,” Ren said, after a moment. “Thanks.”

Akechi frowned. “For what?”

“For the pep talk, or whatever that was.” Ren smiled, just a little. “I needed it.”

Akechi glanced away. “Well, you’re welcome.” 

“I guess all we can do now is wait,” Ren said.

“Tomorrow is Maruki’s deadline,” Akechi murmured.

Ren shuffled his feet. 

“We can make further plans when we’re out of the cold,” Akechi said. “Let’s head back.” 

Chapter Text

"First time you've brought a friend with you," Takemi said. She didn't seem particularly enthused.

Back to the brightly polite version of himself, Akechi smiled a smile that nevertheless looked frayed at the edges. “I assure you that I can be discreet.” 

Akechi appeared out of place under the unforgiving white light of the back-alley clinic's interior. Ren bowed his head and watched him out of the corner of his eye, wondering at how even with all the care he took to make himself look accomplished and prepared, he never seemed able to fit his surroundings completely. 

Takemi studied him, expression even more skeptical than before. "You seem a little too strait-laced to be a Phantom Thief.” 

Before Akechi could respond, Ren cut in. “You’d be surprised. But yeah, you’re right– he’s not a Thief.”

“Oh?” Takemi raised an eyebrow. 

Ren smiled at her. “He’s an ally, though. Can you sell me drugs now?”

Takemi smiled back at that. It was only slightly ominous. “You owe me another trial soon, but fine.”

They made the necessary purchases and left. Outside the clinic, Akechi glanced at Ren. “That doctor knows you’re a Phantom Thief? You’re very free with your secrets, aren’t you?” 

“She’s trustworthy,” Ren told him. 

“Hm. So that’s where you get your supplies from.”

“Yup. Convenient, huh?”

“I’ll say.” For a moment Ren saw a look of curious wonderment flit across Akechi’s face– the same one he occasionally had during their expedition through Sae’s Palace. Then, just as suddenly, his expression turned boredly neutral again. “Well, then– let’s get going. We don't want to keep the good doctor waiting.”

"Right." 

Today was the day. Ren only hoped he was doing the right thing. 

It was fortunate that they’d stocked up on supplies, because Ren quickly found that fighting his way through a Palace was significantly more challenging with only one ally. But nothing felt as difficult as standing in front of Maruki and listening to his offer.  

Despite the fact that the ominous atmosphere and the whole transforming reality thing was sending up more red flags than he could count, Ren couldn’t shake the impression that Maruki was trustworthy. Akechi would probably say that Maruki’s pristine white clothes and the polished look of the Palace were a facade– just shoddy imitations of purity and goodness. But Ren wasn't so sure. 

"Will you give me your answer?" Maruki said. 

Ren glanced at Akechi. Akechi looked back at him. It was always hard to make out his expression when he was wearing his obfuscating mask, but something about him seemed wound tightly and ready to break. Ren felt his own anxiety spike, as if Akechi’s snappish trepidation was bleeding through to him.  

He made himself remember that Akechi was right when he’d denounced a world built on lies. 

That didn’t mean that what he was about to say wouldn’t hurt. “I can’t accept a reality like this,” Ren told Maruki. 

Maruki’s expression turned sorrowful. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, sounding genuinely regretful.

Then Sumire woke up, and everything went to hell. 

Moments later, Akechi took one look at her standing defiantly and fearfully in front of them and said, “I could take care of this, but you want her alive, don’t you? Handle this yourself.” 

“I need you close by,” Ren said. He cleared his throat. He should probably start thinking before blithely saying embarrassing things. 

“I can administer healing items, should you need them.” 

Ren couldn't help but think that Akechi could use Samarecarm, if he'd only summon Robin Hood. Then again, Ren had no intention of needing a spell like that. 

The fight began. There was no thrill in it. Attempting to take Sumire down was an objectively excruciating exercise. Ren had to stop himself from flinching every time he saw the look of wild panic on her face, the hopeless despair for which there seemed to be no remedy.

“Cendrillon!” Sumire screamed, and Ren was so struck by the grief in it– the way the cry sounded as if it had been ripped bloodily from her throat– that the force of her Persona's spell sent him crashing suddenly and painfully to the ground. 

The cool laminate of the Palace floor felt icy against his cheek. Ren rolled his head and struggled to a sitting position. “Crow,” he croaked. 

There was no response. 

Wincing, Ren glanced to the side. Akechi was doubled over, clutching his head.

Panic came suddenly. “Crow!”

“Damn it.” Akechi's voice was faint. “Why…!”

Akechi hadn't been attacked– why was he in pain? Fear and confusion threatened to overwhelm Ren, but there was no time. He shook his head and managed to get to his feet. "Akechi!" he shouted, forgetting codenames.

Finally, Akechi seemed to gather himself. With evident effort, he procured a bottle of Recov-R tablets and tossed it to Ren with a heavy breath. 

Taking the medicine, Ren felt his energy return. Why had Akechi been hurt? The question still nagged at him, but he didn’t have another moment to consider it– the fight was still on.  

Sumire reached her limit eventually. It was clear that she was too distressed to mount a real resistance– after the frantic energy of her initial blows, she had battled him listlessly, as if she was only going through the motions. Ren watched her fall to the ground and swallowed. 

“I… can’t go back,” she said, gazing at them pleadingly, but she sounded far more uncertain than before. 

Ren was certain he could have reasoned with her, had not Maruki then driven Cendrillon into some kind of frenzy and taken Sumire captive once again. 

The fight that ensued was far more difficult. The bleak image of Sumire, unconscious and strung up by twisting tendrils, made for a bizarre tableau that threatened to divert Ren’s attention, but fighting with Akechi was good for his focus. They landed their blows in tandem, even unleashing the powerful attack they'd improvised earlier during one part of the fight. Slowly, working with Akechi was becoming easier and more instinctual. 

But despite their best efforts, they were eventually overpowered.

“Damn it,” Akechi shouted. “We can’t afford to waste time like this.”

Ren felt helpless frustration turn quickly into anger within him. This would have been so much easier if they only had more manpower. If only– 

The Persona moved to strike.

“Watch out, it’s coming!” Akechi’s voice was high. 

Another voice suddenly rung out, strong and clear– "I don’t think so!"

For a moment Ren thought he was imagining things. Then he turned and saw first Ryuji and then the rest of the Phantom Thieves, rushing over in a burst of color and reliability that filled him immediately with a flood of relief. 

The berserk Cendrillon fell easily, after that, and then Maruki was standing in front of them again.

“Dr. Maruki?” Ann gasped. “Why…” 

“He’s the ruler of this Palace,” Akechi said tightly. A few of Ren’s friends made noises of surprise, but he ignored them. “And I have some questions for him. When Ren took a hit earlier, it hurt me .”

Ah. In all the chaos, Ren had almost forgotten. 

“This time, I want some goddamn information,” Akechi snapped. “What did you do to us? And after you answer that– undo it.”  

Maruki looked surprised. "I see. The bond between you two is growing stronger. That means that when one of you feels a strong sensation, the other might, too. Strong pain, or even…" He looked suddenly sympathetic.

For some reason, that made Ren angry. "Speak clearly," he said. 

Maruki looked regretful. “Like I told you two, this happening wasn’t my intent– and I’m not trying to be purposefully confusing, either," he said. "Regardless, I’m aware of how difficult this must be. I really do want to help– I ran some experiments related to your situation and looked over some previous research. There’s a balance to achieve. I see that you’ve already realized there’s no point in fighting the actualization link. But you can’t allow yourself to give into it completely, either. That is, if you want to remain independent people, of course.” Maruki laughed, which was not reassuring.

“Give in to it?” Ren asked. 

“How exactly are we supposed to achieve this balance?” Akechi demanded. 

“That’s something you’ll have to discover yourselves,” Maruki said, apologetic. “It seems as if the actualization link manifests differently between different people, so I can’t tell you how to stabilize it. Regardless, you have my word that I'll break the link eventually." 

“Are you saying that you’re not going to break it unless we accept your offer?” Akechi sounded murderous. 

“That’s not what I meant at all,” Maruki protested. “I want you to make this choice of your own free will. In the meantime, why not consider this a learning opportunity?” 

“You…” Akechi kind of seemed like he was going to start shooting laser beams from his eyes.  

Before that could happen, a weak, muffled voice came from the floor. “Guh…” 

“Yoshizawa,” Makoto said tightly. “Is she waking up?” 

They clustered around Sumire, but soon she was quiet and still again, looking sickly and sullen in her unconscious state.

“Hey,” Ryuji said suddenly, after a moment of that. “Where’s Doc?” 

They all looked up to see an empty space where Maruki had been. Then his voice was ringing out, leaving them with a warning and a deadline.

Outside the Palace, Ren carried the still-unconscious Sumire on his back, ignoring Akechi’s dark look. Everyone started to talk over each other.

“Yoshizawa–”

“–and Dr. Maruki was–”

“So is reality, like, broken, or–”

“I’ll explain,” Ren interrupted, and gave them the gist. 

There was a short silence after he finished. Ren searched the faces of his friends, looking for signs that he’d made the wrong choice– but while they seemed confused or contemplative, nobody seemed upset. No one looked as if they resented him for taking it upon himself to bring an end to their happiness. Ren felt himself relax. 

Ryuji was the one who brought it up. “So, uh,” he began, looking wary. “Can I ask what the hell Akechi’s doing here?” 

"A pertinent question," Yusuke murmured. 

“Um,” Haru said tentatively. “In the Palace, you were all talking about some kind of bond between you two...”

Ren hesitated.

“Well?” Akechi said, speaking for the first time. “Ren, are you going to enlighten your friends?”

There was little sense in beating around the bush. “Basically,” Ren said, “Maruki made some kind of mistake when he was making this reality, and now, me and Akechi… We can’t be apart from each other.”

There was a brief silence. 

Makoto broke it first. “Sorry– when you say can’t…”  

“During our initial test, we experienced intense physical discomfort when we tried to separate, which has only strengthened over time,” Akechi said tonelessly. “I can safely assume that further attempts would lead to loss of consciousness, at the very least.” 

“How long has this been h–” Makoto tried, but she was drowned out by Ryuji’s shout of “What the hell? ” 

“No way,” Ann said nervously. “Um, this is one of Ren’s weird jokes, right?” 

“So that’s why Akechi kept sleeping over.” Futaba looked shell-shocked. “I’ve read this doujinshi.” 

Ren rubbed the back of his neck. “Makoto, it’s been about a week. Since New Year's.”

“But how have you two been…” Yusuke looked troubled.

“Uh… we’ve figured some stuff out. It’s not so bad,” Ren added, considering his friends were staring at him like they were at his funeral.

“But Akechi is… He tried to…” Haru’s face shuttered. 

“Does it matter?” Akechi spoke up suddenly, his voice and his presence demanding attention, as always. “Although it’s far from an ideal situation, your leader and I are attached at the hip for the time being. Besides, I need him.”

“You what?” Morgana sounded highly suspicious. 

“Considering the power that man possesses, it’s hardly as if I can take Maruki down myself,” Akechi said coolly. “So I need Ren. Do any of you have a problem with that? I don't think he does.” 

"...Ren?" Ann said uncertainly.

"Uh," Ren said. He failed to follow up the sound with anything more substantial. He had never considered himself an easily embarrassed person, but Akechi seemed uniquely able to fluster him.  

"All of you seemed quite satisfied with this new world. I can’t help but wonder what your thoughts are on the matter." Akechi gave the Thieves a probing look. 

There was another short silence. Then Ryuji said, “Hell, man, I don’t even know what to think right now.” 

“This is indeed a lot to take in at once,” Yusuke murmured. 

“Ngh…” Sumire suddenly stirred on Ren’s back. 

“Yoshizawa’s eyes opened!” Morgana exclaimed. 

“You okay? Can you stand?” Ren asked her. 

She nodded, and made her apologies, and was reassured by Ann. Then they reminded themselves of Maruki’s deadline– February 3rd. 

“We should take some time to think this over,” Morgana said. 

“Well, this is no place to discuss anything, and I imagine we’re all tired,” Makoto said. “We should head home.”

The others agreed. Next to Ren, Akechi stood silently, his arms crossed and his expression inscrutable. 

“So,” Futaba said, catching up with Ren as they walked away from the stadium. “Akechi’s just gonna stay at Leblanc from now on?” 

“Sorry for the intrusion,” Akechi said blandly, somehow making it sound like a mockery of basic politeness.

Ren could see the other Thieves paying close attention to the conversation out of the corner of his eye. He sighed. “Not as if we really have any other choice.” 

“Yeah,” Futaba muttered. “I guess you don’t.” 

She looked at Akechi. Akechi looked back at her, eyes betraying nothing. The following few seconds felt like an eternity before Futaba simply exhaled and turned away without another word. “Gonna check on Yoshizawa,” she muttered. 

Futaba being so eager to get out of the conversation that she was willing to talk to someone who was effectively a stranger wasn’t exactly a good sign. Ren turned and watched her approach Sumire’s drooping crimson figure before he rubbed the back of his neck. Himself, Akechi, Futaba & Morgana in close proximity at Leblanc… He’d be lucky if he made it through the next month without getting hypertension like his father. 

His phone buzzed suddenly. When he checked it, he saw a text from Makoto. He glanced over his shoulder at her, but she was carefully avoiding his eyes, playing at nonchalance.

Ren looked at the message. Ren, it read, this development is troubling. Do you feel that you’re in any danger from him?

nah, he replied, being careful not to trip as he typed and walked simultaneously. it wouldn’t make any sense for him to try and hurt me now. 

True, but I’m not sure if Akechi’s always thinking sensibly , came the reply.  

I’m not worried. we kind of have an understanding, I guess. 

All right. I trust you to know what you’re doing. But if you have any doubts or find yourself needing help, please speak to us.

will do ^_^ 

You’re as carefree as usual, I see. Ren could almost hear her say it. That makes me feel better. 

“Would you look up when you’re walking?” Akechi demanded from next to him. “The way things are going, if you end up on the pavement, I may very well follow.”

Ren sighed and put his phone back in his pocket. 

Morgana was evidently displeased with the new living situation. It was clear from the way he was sitting in a corner of the attic, morosely grooming himself and glaring balefully at Akechi. 

Ren felt a headache coming on. Since moving to Tokyo he'd amassed a lot of experience with defusing interpersonal tension, but this situation was in a completely different realm from what he was accustomed to. 

The day had drawn to a close, and they'd gotten ready to sleep. Moonlight streamed in through the window, bathing the room in light despite the late hour. Akechi was lying on the futon, reading an article on his phone. Ren shifted restlessly on top of the sheets, his hands behind his head. The actualization link prodded at him to climb out of his bed and attach himself to Akechi's side like a limpet. He ignored it. 

"Ren," Morgana said suddenly. "Can we talk?"

"Uh, sure," Ren turned his head to look at him. "What is it?"

"In private, I mean."

"Um." Ren glanced at Akechi. "That isn't really… possible?"

"Ugh!" Morgana exploded. "This isn't fair! The others can just text you, but I don't have thumbs! I can't tell you anything without this guy hearing!"

Akechi didn’t look up from his phone. “Shall I cover my ears? Although if you plan to discuss a strategy to oppose Maruki, we’d all benefit if I participated. We’re working together now, after all.” 

Morgana yowled in frustration. “How are you so… obnoxious?!” 

Ren glanced at Akechi. He was still looking at his phone, but… was Ren mistaken? No. That was definitely a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of Akechi’s mouth. Ren shook his head in disbelief. He wondered if Morgana would understand if Ren told him that Akechi seemed to take particular pleasure in being obnoxious. 

That aside, Ren had something he needed to ask him. “Akechi.”

Akechi looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. 

“Why do you think Maruki didn’t sever the link?” Ren asked.

“Because he can’t,” Akechi replied. 

“Huh?” 

“Couldn’t you tell?” Akechi said matter-of-factly. “To avoid looking weak, he was trying not to say it outright, but he simply doesn't have the capability to do it yet." 

“Oh.” Ren felt numb. “Are we screwed?” 

“He might not be powerful enough now, but as the self-appointed god of this new world, it’s likely he’ll get stronger very soon. When he comes into his powers fully, I imagine he’ll be capable of anything. Regardless, it doesn’t matter.”

“Why’s that?”

“We can’t wait until that happens. We have to defeat him beforehand. That’s the only way to save reality." Akechi scowled. "And make it so that we can part ways and I can sleep somewhere that isn’t this third-rate–”  

“Shit,” Ren said suddenly. 

“What?” Akechi seemed annoyed about having his monologue interrupted. 

“I have to go to school tomorrow,” Ren realized. 

“You hadn’t remembered that yet?” Morgana sighed. “You’re hopeless.” 

“School?” Akechi frowned before shrugging. “You’ll just have to stop going.”

“What?” Ren turned to him. “Why?”

“It’s hardly as if I can go with you.” Off Ren’s look, he added, “What’s the big deal? I’ve already accepted that I’ll be unable to attend my own classes.”

Ren hesitated. “How could I explain that to Sojiro? Besides, I already had to take a break from school earlier, and–”   

“Are you telling me you miss school?” Akechi had the nerve to look amused. 

“I don’t want to hear this from someone who thinks homework is fun,” Ren told him. “Look, you owe me.”

“For what? If anything, you owe me.”

Ren stared at him, incredulous. “Clarify?”

Akechi frowned at him again. “Without what I did in the engine room, none of you would have made it through.” 

“Right,” Ren said. “The engine room. Are we finally going to talk about that now?”

“Hey, I’ve been wondering, too,” Morgana cut in. “Akechi, how’d you even survive the ship? I mean, we all heard you… Well…”   

“Enough.”

Akechi had raised his voice. Suddenly alert and wary, Ren looked at him. His head was bowed, his long hair hiding his face. 

“Consider the position I’m in.” Akechi sounded as if he was speaking through clenched teeth. “Not only am I roped into that madman’s scheme, left with no option but to work with your team, and barred from the simple luxury of accepting the consequences of my own actions, I’m stuck with you. I have no freedom, no agency, nothing to do but comply. So is it inconceivable that I’d want to keep one goddamn thing to myself?”

Ren swallowed. His eyes met Morgana’s, whose feline face looked pitying. For a moment, there was only silence in the attic. Then Ren said, “All right. Sorry.”

“Thank you. I’d appreciate it if you dropped the subject.”

“Yeah. Got it.” He would have greatly preferred to leave things in silence after that, but there was still something on his mind. “But Akechi… tomorrow…” Ren paused.  “Please.” 

Ren still couldn’t see Akechi’s face. There was a short silence, and for a moment Ren thought Akechi wasn't going to respond. Then, in a voice filled with venom, he said, "Fine. As usual, what our leader wants, he gets." He flopped on his back, shut his eyes, and went stubbornly silent. 

The room suddenly went dark. Some clouds must have passed over the moon. Softly, Ren sighed. 

He heard the soft, familiar sound of a cat’s paws padding on the floor before there was a rustle of sheets and Morgana joined him on the bed. “Ren,” he whispered, nestling close to him. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” Ren said. He stared up at the ceiling. “It’ll be fine.”  

“Well,” Kawakami said. “Things have been going pretty well lately, haven't they?” 

There were murmurs of assent from around the classroom. Ren stared at Ann's back and watched her fidget in her seat.

“Apparently the principal and the registrar think so too," Kawakami said. "I don't need to remind you that this school is selective about enrollment. But it seems like upper-level administration has been in a good mood lately, so I guess we’ve been accepting far more students than we used to. Anyway, I’m bringing this up because we have somebody new joining us today.” She glanced to the side. "Care to introduce yourself?"

As soon as the new face walked over, voices rose in high, excited whispers. Ren was hardly surprised. Transfer students were always topics of discussion. Handsome transfer students made even more of an impact. 

"I’m Akechi," Akechi said. To Ren, his smile looked thin, but the others didn't seem to notice. "It’s nice to meet you all. I hope we can get along.”

Chapter Text

At the front of the classroom, Akechi was far enough away for the attractive force of the actualization link to push insistently at Ren. He drummed his fingers on the surface of his desk.

"Are you okay?" Morgana whispered.

Ren bowed his head. “I’m fine.”

It was such an obvious lie that Morgana scoffed. 

But suddenly the discomfort eased, and Ren looked up to see Akechi walking briskly towards him. He came closer and closer until he stopped by Ren’s seat. Then he looked at the girl sitting next to Ren and smiled. “I think I’d prefer to take this chair,” Akechi told her. “Could I ask you to find another one?” 

“Uh,” said the girl hesitatingly. 

Ren leaned over. “You’d be doing me a favor," he said in an undertone. "I’m trying to help him get used to everything here. He’s actually incredibly socially maladjusted."

"I can hear you," Akechi said in a clipped voice.

His classmate looked even more confused now, but she slowly rose to his feet and picked up her things.

“Thanks," said Ren. He was going to miss that girl– at the moment he couldn’t quite recall her name, but he liked to think they’d established a certain rapport. Once during a math lesson she had lent Ren an eraser. 

Class was a dull affair, the usual monotony broken up only by people's whispers about Akechi, and their curious glances at Akechi, and their lovelorn sighs directed towards Akechi. Ren had only ever really been the center of attention at school through amassing a good deal of notoriety, but he didn't feel envious. If made to choose between shallow adoration or being overlooked, Ren would take the pleasant numbness of relative anonymity every time. As Kawakami gave her lecture, Ren glanced at Akechi out of the corner of his eye. He, of course, would probably pick differently. 

When it was time for lunch, Ann turned around in her chair. Addressing Ren and Akechi, she whispered, "This is so weird."

Morgana stuck his head out from Ren's desk. "Uh-huh. We're really the only ones who can tell this reality’s fake."

"So many little things are off… It's creeping me out, honestly." Ann shuddered. 

"I suppose Shujin Academy is no different from the rest of the world," Akechi said. "Everyone's thoroughly fooled."

“Sitting through our classes is probably pretty annoying for you, since you’re a third-year, Akechi,” Ann said, smiling in sympathy.

Ren could tell she was trying to extend an olive branch. He hoped Akechi wouldn't be rude before deciding to lower his expectations. 

“It is," Akechi said bluntly. "But I suppose which class I'm in doesn’t matter, since I’m not here with the intention of learning anything.” 

“Yeah, totally.” Ann looked pensive. “School’s… about learning things, huh?” She tugged at her bangs and seemed a little lost. 

Ren sighed quietly to himself. That kind of interaction was probably the best he could hope for. 

The short silence that followed was eventually broken by the sound of giggling. Ren looked over to see a couple of girls with their eyes fixed on Akechi. When Akechi glanced back at them they quickly turned away, their titters continuing. 

Something about it rankled Ren. He stood up, and the others looked at him. “I should show Akechi around,” Ren said. “The principal told me to give him a tour when we got him enrolled this morning, anyway.”

“Oh, okay. You know, I still can’t believe that worked,” Ann said. She sighed. “But in a reality where Mr. Ushimaru is actually nice to us, why am I surprised by anything?”  

They left Ann eating her lunch at her desk and headed for the courtyard. When they arrived, Morgana popped his head out of Ren's bag. "I'm going to take a walk.”  

"All right,” Ren said to him. “You won't get caught, will you?"

"Please," Morgana sniffed. "Have a little more faith in my sneaking skills." He allowed Ren to help him out of the bag before he swished his tail and bounded away.  

Ren glanced at Akechi. He was looking around with some evident curiosity, but as soon as he noticed Ren’s gaze on him he crossed his arms.

Ren gestured unnecessarily. “This is the courtyard.” 

"Fascinating," Akechi said. 

Ren hesitated. “Do you think we’ll be able to stay near each other at school? I keep thinking that something could happen."

“You’re overthinking things," Akechi said dismissively. "If we need excuses, we'll think of some. Other people's reactions are irrelevant. Nothing that happens in this reality actually matters, after all.”  

“I guess," Ren said, before pausing. There was a thought slowly forming in his mind that he wasn’t sure how to put it into words, but after a moment he decided to try his best anyway. "Maybe that has its advantages, though. In this reality you're not famous, so you can just… be normal.”

"Oh, so that’s the grace that you’d extend to me as a righteous Thief? You’d give me a normal life?" Akechi scoffed. "What a foolish display of wishful thinking. I didn't choose that path."

Ren sighed. "Forget it." He had been thinking about the times he’d seen Akechi react to public attention with stiff wariness– that incident at the restaurant that had resulted in his wearing Ren’s glasses came to mind– but talking to Akechi felt impossible when he was being obstinate like this. He tried to think of something else to say, or a way to change the subject.

But Akechi suddenly spoke again before he could. "I hate hypotheticals," he said, slowly and with seeming reluctance, as if he was forcing the words out. "I never had the luxury of considering alternate scenarios. I didn't have the time. And now I'm swept into a world ruled purely by what could have happened– what just one man thinks our reality should look like." He looked tired. "I suppose I'm not sure I know how to conduct myself."

For another moment neither of them spoke. Then Ren said, carefully, "When I got here, everyone knew about my record. It was supposed to be a secret, so I could have a fresh start, but Kamoshida leaked the information. I resented him for that. Almost as much as I resented him for everything else he did. Maybe more." Pinpricks of guilt accompanied that confession. It was something he'd never admitted to anybody else. "I kept thinking that if he hadn't done that, I could…" He trailed off, suddenly feeling awkward, before reaching up to fiddle with his fringe. 

Akechi was watching him, eyes serious. "Ren," he said. "Did you ever regret what you did for that woman? Did you ever pity yourself so much it prevented you from doing what had to be done?"

The answer came easily. "No," Ren said. 

"Well," Akechi replied, "then you know how I feel."

They looked at each other. Ren realized suddenly that nobody was watching them. He shifted closer to Akechi until their hands were touching, cherishing the feeling of immediate relief that followed. 

Akechi allowed the connection without comment. He glanced at Ren. "Aren't you going to finish your tour? Surely there's more to this school than a courtyard."

"Yeah, yeah," Ren said. Somehow he felt like he'd gotten closer to Akechi. For a moment he felt grateful for their forced proximity. If he kept taking every opportunity he had to get through to him, maybe, eventually, they'd finally be able to understand each other. He grinned at Akechi. "Follow me."

Ren was right to question Morgana after all, since they eventually discovered him surrounded by a gaggle of students, being petted and cooed at. 

The rest of the school day passed quickly after they rescued him, and then came time for a meeting of the Phantom Thieves at Leblanc. They needed to come to a unanimous decision about Maruki and whether to work with Akechi. 

That discussion would probably go more smoothly if Akechi himself wasn’t present, but of course he was there, standing silently next to Ren near the counter and looking at the other Thieves with coolly contemptuous eyes. 

Ren was concerned about Futaba; she'd started to try and speak with him yesterday but had evidently become wary of Akechi and excused herself. They'd had a conversation over text, but it had been easy to tell that she was leaving things unsaid. Now, looking at her sitting at one of the booths, he sought her eyes. When she did look back at him, he gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. She smiled a little in return, and he felt relieved. 

As Ren had expected they would, his friends agreed unanimously to challenge Maruki. Although the others seemed shocked when Lavenza contacted him, Ren was almost nonplussed. It would take much more than a phone call from a Velvet Room attendant to surprise him at this point. 

After Ren hung up and the plan to meet with Lavenza at school the next day was made, there was only one thing left to discuss. Ren glanced to his side. Akechi was looking at nothing in particular, standing stiffly and folding his arms.

“May I say something?" The voice was Haru's, as soft and high as it always was.

“Go ahead,” said Ren, tensing a little despite himself.

Haru looked somber when she turned to Akechi. "I don't object to working with you,” she told him, “since we need all the manpower we can get. But I have no qualms at all with fighting you again if you betray us.” 

"Seconded," Futaba said, sounding flippant, before she narrowed her eyes. "And you can bet we'll win." 

“Fine by me,” Akechi said. He was just as quiet as Haru, but while lowering her voice made her sound more threatening, Akechi only seemed mutely subdued. “I’ve already told you I intend to cooperate, fair and square.” 

There was an uneasy silence after that, and then, with nothing else to talk about, Ren’s friends eventually dispersed. A few of the Thieves gave him looks of sympathy as they left Leblanc; the no-Akechi group chat was sure to be filling up with complaints that evening. Akechi was hardly putting in effort to make himself likable, but lately his mere presence was enough to rankle the Thieves. The thought made Ren a little depressed. 

Upstairs, as Morgana dozed in the corner and Ren used his phone, Akechi seemed restless. He opened his notebook and shut it, glanced at his own phone once or twice before turning it off, and frowned deeply at various items strewn around the attic. 

Ren stopped watching him after a moment; he was having to reassure and placate his friends over text, as expected, and when that was more-or-less accomplished successfully he idly began to play a game Futaba had downloaded for him.

He was still staring at the screen and wondering if he had any homework he was forgetting about when he suddenly heard Akechi say, “Do you have a needle and thread?”

Ren looked up. He thought he might have misheard. “Huh?” 

“A needle and thread,” Akechi repeated, frowning. He had his Shujin-issued blazer on his lap and was rubbing the fabric between his thumb and his index finger. “There’s a tear on the seam and I’d rather not wear something with holes. Surely that’s not too much to ask.”

“Uh,” Ren said. For some reason he wasn’t quite able to believe that Akechi's request was genuine. "You know how to sew?"

“Of course. You don't? I suppose you had servants in your country manor to run out and buy new clothes as soon as yours got holes,” Akechi said derisively. 

Possibly he was being facetious, but Ren couldn't tell. “No servants,” Ren said. Akechi had seemed blatantly apathetic towards most things ever since they'd met on New Year's Day; why was the simple matter of a small hole in some clothes so pressing to him? Then Ren remembered Akechi's shifting restlessness. Maybe Akechi just wanted something to distract him, something to do with his hands. Ren understood the feeling. He shook off his disbelief and stood up. “And I don't live in a manor ," he added belatedly. "Give me a sec, I bet I can find something.” 

He mostly succeeded in ignoring the pressure of Akechi’s eyes on him as he looked around the attic, trying not to stray too far from Akechi and make the situation more unpleasant for both of them. Finally, at the very bottom of his infiltration toolkit, he found a spool of black thread and a container holding some sewing needles. He tried not to look too triumphant as he brought the items over.

Akechi nodded and took them from him. "That'll work. Thanks," he added, after a pause, and looked away before Ren could reply. 

He turned his attention back to the clothes. Ren sat down next to him.

"Going to watch me?" Akechi asked. 

"Don't have anything else to do."

"Hmm,” Akechi said. “Maybe you'll learn something. Look." He arranged the blazer on his lap so that the underside of the seam was showing. Then he easily threaded the needle and began to work. "It isn't difficult."

Ren watched him sew with precise movements, pushing and pulling the needle through the fabric and the loops in the thread fastidiously and with more efficiency than flair. After a moment he stopped narrating his actions, his eyes cast low as he focused on his task, as if he'd forgotten Ren was there. 

Ren wondered how long it had been since anyone else had been privy to so many different sides of Akechi. By now Ren had seen his ruthlessness and his gentleness on full display. The contradictions woven into the essence of everything that made Akechi who he was brought his flaws into sharp focus just as they made his virtues all the more noticeable. Something in Ren’s chest felt suddenly like it was about to bloom, as if the seeds of a dormant feeling were beginning to bud and give way to a familiar kind of affection. 

Ren bit his bottom lip and felt a sense of impending doom. Being passively attracted to Akechi was one thing. Developing a full-blown crush on him was another. This development was unfortunate, but maybe it was unsurprising. He had always had bad luck with romance. His first love had been his older sister’s best friend, an intimidatingly elegant girl who was five years his elder. She’d laughed at him when he finally worked up the courage to tell her she was beautiful at the tender age of ten. 

“All right, done," Akechi said eventually, looking up and interrupting Ren’s increasingly erratic thoughts. "What?" His sharp gaze met Ren’s, and Ren realized he’d been staring at Akechi instead of watching the needle's movements. 

“Nothing,” Ren said, glancing away. If he told Akechi something that trite, he would probably laugh at Ren, too. 

Before school the next day, Sojiro insisted that they eat curry for breakfast. Akechi hid his evident discomfort with the display of domesticity under a veneer of smiles and good manners. Ren picked at his rice, his mind elsewhere. 

"So, Akechi, your apartment's still… flooded, was it?" Sojiro asked him.

Ren cringed inwardly. They should have come up with a better excuse.

Akechi, the consummate liar, nodded as he met Sojiro's eyes. "Thank you again for the hospitality. If there's anything I can offer, by way of compensation–"

"Oh, I'm not asking for rent money or anything," Sojiro said. "But I wouldn't object to you helping out in the café when you can."  

Ren's head snapped up, a sudden panic overtaking him. "Um, he can work when I have time to do it with him. Akechi's not much of a cook, after all. And he drinks instant coffee at home."

"Instant?" Sojiro looked scandalized.

"Only when I'm unable to enjoy a cup of your coffee, Boss," Akechi said, beaming and then shooting a glare at Ren when Sojiro wasn't looking. 

"Anyway," Ren said, "he'll need me to help."

Sojiro sighed and shook his head before raising an eyebrow at Ren. "You territorial about your place in the kitchen all of a sudden?"

"Guess so," Ren said, smiling blandly.

"No need to worry," Sojiro said. "You’re my favorite part-timer. Since you're the only one, and I don't have to pay you."

"Gee, thanks.”

"You know," Sojiro said when they were getting up to put their dishes away, "I think I mentioned it once before, but you two shouldn't be spending all your time together. Even if you're dating, you'll need breathing room to–" 

"Uh-huh. Thanks." Ren all but dragged Akechi out through the door. "See you later."

"I thought you didn't mind when he assumed as much last time," Akechi said as soon as they were out of earshot, sounding suspiciously like he was in a good mood. 

"Because it was easier than having to explain everything else," Ren muttered. "Now it's just going to be awkward if he keeps getting the wrong impression."

"Perhaps," Akechi said merrily.

Ren looked at him flatly. “You’re happy I’m annoyed, aren’t you?” 

Akechi only winked and tossed his hair. 

At school, Akechi’s eyes widened when Lavenza appeared in the nurse’s office, and remained wide when the other Thieves gathered there and she materialized once again to address them. It wasn't long before he recovered enough to pepper her with questions– seeing Akechi make conversation with Lavenza was bizarre, but both parties seemed to be taking it in stride. Ren was convinced that if he traveled back in time to a month ago and informed his past self that this was going to happen, he would be firmly disbelieved.

Lavenza's information clarified the situation– Akechi had been right about Maruki coming into his full powers at a later date, and they could assume that the fake world they were in and the real world would merge on the February 3rd deadline. The revelations that Maruki was a Persona-user and all of this had apparently happened because of their own wishes were more surprising. 

"What about Ren and Akechi's situation? Maruki called it an actualization link." Yusuke's brow was furrowed.

Lavenza shook her head. "Our knowledge about this matter is limited. Regardless, it seems that the existence of their connection is contingent on Maruki having his powers."

"So if we just defeat him, it'll go away," Ann said contemplatively.  

"Yeah,” Ryuji added. “I mean, it kind of sucks for you guys, but I guess it doesn't change what we have to do. Once we steal his heart, everything goes back to normal. Simple."

"Then we know what our goal is," Makoto said. 

They made sure the decision was unanimous– even including Akechi, to his evident bewilderment– before adjourning. Akechi didn’t say much afterwards, and continued to be mostly silent in class and throughout the rest of the day. 

Finally, on the subway ride back to Leblanc, Ren turned to him. “So, you’re not going to ask about Lavenza?” 

Akechi wasn’t looking at him. “Since I assume you had an entire menagerie of magical fairies to assist you, I’m hardly surprised by meeting one.” 

The bitterness in his tone was evident. Ren considered him for a moment before saying, "I don't want to hide information from you now that we’re working together. If there’s anything you want to know, just ask.”  

"Anything? You should be more careful with your words,” Akechi said, but he seemed mollified. "All right, fine. I'll keep that in mind."

At Leblanc that night, things almost felt calm. Morgana lay on a chair while Ren worked the counter and tried to teach Akechi how to make coffee as part of his part-timer training. Sojiro had left them alone, leaving them with the responsibility of locking up. 

“You have to make sure to do it slowly,” Ren instructed as he poured hot water over the grounds. “And in a spiral pattern, too– that's the best way.” 

“I’ve watched you do this before, but it’s certainly a delicate process,” Akechi murmured.

“Uh-huh,” Ren said absently, focused on his task. “But you get the hang of it. It’s all about confidence.” 

“Did you know anything at all before you moved here?”

“Nope,” Ren told him. “But I’m a quick learner.”

“I should be grateful for that. After all, I always enjoyed your coffee.”

“Really?” Ren finished pouring and carefully removed the filter, setting it aside before beginning to transfer the coffee into a cup. “That wasn’t an act?” 

“Not at all,” Akechi said. “Trust me. If I found it lacking, I would have let you know.” 

Ren grinned. “Yeah, I bet you would’ve.” He picked up the cup of fresh coffee and handed it to Akechi. 

“Thank you,” Akechi said. Then, suddenly, he smiled– a small smile, but one that was undoubtedly warm.

Ren couldn’t help it– he stared. 

Suddenly, the door to the café opened. 

They looked over to see who was entering. It was Sumire. “Hey,” Ren said, surprised. 

“Um,” Sumire said. “Hello, Senpai. Ah, and Akechi and Morgana." She smiled weakly. "I'm sorry– did I come at a bad time?"

"Nah," Ren said. "I'm just teaching Akechi how to break into the food service industry.”

"I see." Sumire approached the counter. "Are you two still, uh…”  

"Yup," Akechi said blithely. 

"I see,” Sumire said again. “Um, can I ask for some coffee?"

A few moments later, Ren set a cup in front of her.

She nodded her thanks and took a sip, smiling briefly afterwards. “It’s delicious.” Sumire hesitated. “Um… There’s something I should come clean about. Today, I saw all of you go into the nurse’s office. And I heard your conversation.” 

This was unexpected. “So you know about what Maruki did,” Ren said. 

Sumire nodded. “You all looked so confident about what paths you should take,” she said quietly. “Whereas I’ve just been… lost. I want to be like all of you. Now that I remember who I am, I want to stop running.” She bit her lip. “But saying that and putting it into practice are two different things. I don’t know where to go from here. Senpai… What should I do?”  

"Do you really think he can make that decision for you?" 

Ren turned. 

Akechi was frowning at Sumire, his arms folded. "After what you've been put through, I suppose your reaction in the Palace wasn't unexpected, but now that you're living as your true self, you can hardly expect others to guide you every time you find yourself at a crossroads."

"Akechi–" Ren began. 

"No," Sumire said, silencing him. She looked pained, but she took a breath and managed a smile. "He put it quite harshly, but Akechi-senpai is right. I have to start thinking for myself– about what I want to do." 

Akechi frowned. "You don't need to call me that.” 

"But I want to," Sumire said, sounding surprisingly defiant. 

Akechi glared at her for a moment, but she only looked back at him, stubbornly refusing to drop her gaze. It made for an amusing sight. Ren started to laugh and had to disguise it as a cough. 

Finally, Akechi just sighed. "Do what you want."

Sumire beamed. "Okay! Thanks, Akechi-senpai. And Ren-senpai.” She stood up. “Um, I’ll be going now. I’ll do my best to follow your advice.”

When she was gone, Akechi furrowed his brows. “She looked like a broken doll when she walked in. I wonder if she really has the resolve to look forward.” 

"I think she meant what she said," Ren replied. "She's done running."

"I think so, too," Morgana piped up from the chair. “I have the feeling she’ll surprise us.” 

“Perhaps," Akechi said, sounding less than convinced. 

“Anyway, I guess we can close the café now,” Ren said. He paused. “Hey.”

Akechi looked at him. “Yes?” 

“Do you, uh… want to go to the jazz club?”

“...What?” Akechi said flatly. 

“We’re infiltrating the Palace again tomorrow,” Ren said. “I don’t know. It might be nice to do something more relaxing before then." It was probably better not to say it aloud, but he was also sure that spending so much time with the others was wearing on Akechi. He had no intention of making apologies for his friends– who admittedly had every right to be wary of Akechi, anyway– but some time in another setting might at least make Akechi less irritable.

“Look at you, wanting to get me alone,” Akechi said in his honeyed Detective Prince voice. Before Ren could reply he spoke again, sounding normal this time. “Well, I do miss that place. And I enjoyed our chats there. Why not?”

They found themselves at Jazz Jin a half-hour later. Morgana had come along, and was currently taking a stroll around Kichijoji. Inside at their usual table, Ren stared at his drink as Akechi talked about the differences he’d already observed in the neighborhood. 

After a while, Akechi stopped and peered at him, probably realizing their conversation was more one-sided than usual. “You’re distracted.”

“Sorry.” Ren looked up. “I’m just…”  

"You're thinking about what Lavenza said, aren't you?” Akechi rested his chin on his hand. “About your wishes causing this."

“I… yeah.” Ren smiled ruefully. "All of us trusted Maruki. I just feel stupid, I guess."

"Well, you had no way of knowing what Maruki was like. I was foolish, too." Akechi looked grim. "I spent all that time investigating people around you and never even pegged him as a threat.” 

“I just… I thought…" Ren struggled to find the words. "I actually really liked him."

Akechi had a complicated expression on his face. “You feel betrayed.” 

"Yeah," Ren said, a little surprised. "That's the perfect word for it."

Akechi hesitated. “I can… tell.”

"Huh?"

"As in, I think I can feel it. Your sense of betrayal." Akechi took a short breath. "Maruki did say that if one of us experienced a strong sensation, the other would most likely be able to feel it as well, didn't he? I suppose that applies to more than just physical pain."

"Oh." Ren blinked a few times. Now that he thought about it– why had he suggested leaving Leblanc? It was because he could tell that Akechi was irritated– something he had sensed not from any obvious indicators of displeasure that Akechi was displaying, but because he could just… sense it. "Oh, shit. I think it's been happening for me too."

Akechi sighed. “How ironic. I’ve never been very good at… trying to understand the way other people feel. So this is…" 

“Weird? Bad?” Ren offered, half-joking. 

“Not entirely.” 

Ren looked at him, surprised. 

Akechi looked away. “Anyway, you thought you were rid of apocalyptic threats after defeating that false god, only for Maruki to take his place. I suppose I feel bad for you, from an objective standpoint.” 

“That’s sweet of you,” Ren said, because he knew it would make Akechi scoff and roll his eyes, and he grinned when the other boy reacted as expected. “But if you don’t want to be pitied, you should extend the same courtesy to me.” 

“Hm,” Akechi said. Then he grinned at Ren. “Touché.”

He had made Akechi smile genuinely again, for the second time that evening. Ren felt that light, flowering feeling in his chest return. 

They spent a while making aimless conversation. Then, when they were almost finished with their drinks, Akechi paused. “I just want to make something clear. If you’re still waiting for an apology from me, you won’t get it. Back then, I thought killing you was the only way to stop Shido. And if my plan had gone as anticipated, I would have accomplished that goal."

“Don't worry– I didn't expect you to apologize.” Ren waited until Akechi was in the middle of taking his last sip to add, “But I actually think your plan was pretty stupid.” 

Akechi swallowed and set his glass down on the table with a loud thunk. “Excuse me?” 

“So,” Ren said, flashing a smile, “if you’re waiting for forgiveness from me, you’re not getting that either.”

For a moment Akechi just glared at him, and then his expression evened. “As if that matters to me,” he said lightly. “Anyway… our differences aside, it looks like we’re mostly in agreement.” 

“Yeah.” Ren beamed. 

Akechi noticed it. “The strangest things seem to make you happy. There really is something wrong with you.”

“I like getting to talk to you,” Ren said.

“How odd.” Akechi glanced down at the surface of the table. “Well, the feeling’s mutual. Though I can’t say I know why.” 

Ren felt an urge to laugh. It would be hard to explain the peculiar dynamics of their friendship to anyone else. But somehow their relationship made sense to Ren, and it seemed to make sense to Akechi. That was enough. 

Come to think of it, Akechi had mentioned Shido. Ren suddenly realized something. “Uh,” he said. “Akechi. Wait. There's something I haven't told you.”  

“What is it?”

“The man who sued me for assault was actually Shido.”

Akechi stared at him. “What?” 

“...Yeah.” 

Akechi was silent for a moment. Then he said, “What the hell was he doing in… Where are you from again?” 

“Kanagawa, up near the mountains,” Ren replied automatically, before the confusion set in. “Wait, is that really what surprises you the most?” Akechi didn’t look nearly as shocked as Ren had envisioned.

“I’m not sure if anything surprises me anymore,” Akechi murmured. “When did you realize it was him?”

“Right before we entered his Palace, basically.” 

“I see.” 

“I mean, it’s pretty weird, though,” Ren said. “Right?” 

“When it comes to you, I expect things will always be more strange than mundane,” Akechi said blandly. “By the way, did you actually punch him?”

“No.” 

Akechi looked disappointed. “What a pity."

Chapter Text

At the entrance to Maruki’s Palace the next day, Sumire was waiting. 

“I can’t run anymore,” she told them, her voice firm. “It’s just like you said, Akechi-senpai– I have to make my own decisions. I want to live my life as Sumire. And I want to help you all.”

“Uh, am I hearing you right, Yoshizawa?” Ryuji said doubtfully. “Akechi gave you advice?”

When the group looked at him, Akechi huffed and folded his arms. “It was common sense.”

“But it helped me, really. And now I know what I have to do. Please, allow me to join you!” Sumire looked so earnest that Ren had the feeling she might start bowing to all of them. 

“All right, then,” Ren said, smiling. “Let’s do this together.”

They picked Violet for her codename and entered the Palace. Things began smoothly. Ren wasn’t overly concerned about the normal Shadows, considering he’d been able to fight them alongside just Sumire and Akechi without too much going wrong. 

Then Sumire had a little trouble maintaining her Metaverse outfit. Akechi told her sharply not to hold the others back, but she only looked flustered for a moment before nodding quickly, her expression turning determined. Now that she had decided to fight alongside them, Ren could tell that she wouldn’t be easily deterred. 

Soon enough she awakened fully to her Persona. Ren watched her tear off her mask and summon Cendrillon to her side, her face bloodied and a wild look in her eyes. For a girl who'd been rendered helpless by grief days ago, she was filled with new energy, and he felt some of his worries about her ease. When the battle that ensued with a few Shadows was over, she looked at him and beamed, saying, “I hope you’ll stay by my side, Joker-senpai!” 

She seemed oblivious to how much it sounded like a confession. Ren smiled back at her and rubbed the back of his neck when he felt Akechi's stare boring holes into the side of his head. 

After taking out a Shadow carrying an ID card, they went to a safe room to rest, filing inside with the usual amount of jostling and stretching.

“Queen, take Fox's place on the front line when we head out,” Ren told her. “He’s tired, and we could use another person who can heal for the next stretch.” 

Makoto nodded. “Got it. Are you feeling okay, Fox? I have some coffee from Leblanc in my thermos.”

“Ah, much appreciated,” Yusuke said. “It’s true that I’m lacking a little in energy.” 

Ren’s attention drifted to Akechi, who was sitting on the bench in front of him. He was folding his arms and glaring at nothing in particular. 

“You’re angry,” Ren said to him.

“Being here makes me angry," Akechi said. The expression on his face contorted into a look of unadulterated disgust. "It's less a Palace and more a castle in the sky. All delusional hope and fragile fantasies."

Maybe if Akechi had seen Maruki speak earnestly in his office about his wish to ease the pain of others, he’d find him sympathetic in the same way that Ren did. Instead, Akechi had only seen the Maruki who played God. With his disdain for being controlled, it was no wonder, then, that he found Maruki unforgivable. Trying to understand Akechi had suddenly become much easier, Ren mused. He wasn't sure if that was because they were beginning to share emotions or if they were just getting used to each other after so much time spent side by side. "I get it," Ren told him. "Just keep helping us take out Shadows."

“It is satisfying to annihilate trash with my own hands,” Akechi said, bloodlust coloring his voice. 

Ren grinned. Then he noticed suddenly that the room had largely descended into silence. He looked up to find a good portion of his team staring at him. 

He realized that he was squeezing Akechi’s shoulder. In fact he’d been doing it for quite some time, alternatively applying and removing pressure in an unconscious effort to soothe him. The action had felt so natural that it hadn’t even registered. Come to think of it, they’d been touching more often lately. Before they were even aware of it, they’d completely stopped fighting the actualization link. 

Akechi must have noticed the stares, too. He must have– which was why it made no sense that instead of pulling away, he instead leaned back and tilted his head closer to Ren, an innocuous movement that nonetheless seemed almost calculated. 

Ren had the feeling that taking his hand away now would only make things more awkward, so he left it where it was and assumed a poker face. He noticed Sumire glancing at them from his periphery, but when Ren looked over at her she turned away hastily. 

“Well,” Ryuji said quickly. “If everyone's healed up, we should probably keep going, yeah?”

“Uh-huh!” Ann was wearing that funny expression she usually had when she was trying too hard to act normal. “Let’s move out!” 

As the rest of the team began to stand up and head for the door, Akechi turned to Ren. “Well, Joker?” he said. His tone was neutral, but his expression was smug. 

“Right,” Ren said. He hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt. 

The library was a good place to work after school, and Akechi made for a decent study partner– as smart as Makoto and, like her, someone who was already familiar with the material the second-years were learning. That said, Makoto wasn’t nearly as snide when Ren couldn’t get the answer on the first try.

Their progress in the Palace the day before had been quickly stalled after they'd discovered the data cables, so they were putting the infiltration on hold until they had the opportunity to enter Mementos. That gave Ren the chance to catch up with his homework. Regardless, it was approximately a million times harder to focus on math when you knew you were inhabiting a false reality. 

A long finger tapped at Ren’s worksheet. He looked up. 

Akechi directed his attention back to the paper. “You made a mistake here. A careless one, by the way.” 

Ren gloomily started erasing. “I’d rather fight Shadows than do this,” he muttered. 

"Speaking of, things should be easier in the Palace with a larger team.” Akechi rested his chin in his hand. The actualization link didn’t feel so irritatingly insistent when they were sitting next to each other, and his presence was a comforting relief. “You have quite the effect on Yoshizawa."

“She said it was your advice that helped her," Ren told him.  

“But it isn’t me she feels affection for," Akechi said, like the know-it-all he was.  

Ren rolled his eyes. "I don’t think she’d decide to risk her life by helping us just because she has a little crush.” 

Akechi shrugged. "It's as good of a motivator as any. I'm thankful for the extra manpower. But I suppose it's frustrating for you. With our situation , you have no real opportunity to spend time with her.” 

"I don't like her that way, you know," Ren said. 

Akechi spun a pen around in his hand. He was almost as good as Ren. Nobody else could really get the hand of doing it– once Ren had tried to teach Ryuji, to no avail. “I wonder," he said conversationally. “Do you even understand how much devotion you inspire in your companions?”

Ren sat back in his chair. “I wouldn’t call it devotion.”

Akechi smirked. “So you do.” 

Eager to move on, Ren changed the subject. “Anyway, I've been meaning to ask you. What do you usually do?” Off Akechi's quizzical look, he added, "Like, you know, just… your regular daily routine stuff."

“I work," said Akechi. "I study. I make appearances in the media." 

Ren waited.

"When I have free time," Akechi added reluctantly, "which isn't often, I read for pleasure."

"What about all the stuff you talk about on TV? Cycling and rock climbing or whatever."

“I don't often have the opportunity to do all of that when there isn't a purpose for it. Is there a point to this line of questioning?” Akechi said testily. 

“I just thought that..." Ren shrugged. "We’ve been doing my stuff, like going to school and working at the café, but I haven’t asked if there are any things you need to do. Or want to do. So I thought I should.” 

Akechi seemed surprised. "That's… nothing you need to worry about," he said, but he sounded less sharp and more soft. He looked down at Ren’s homework again. “You can answer question 7 the same way you did question 4.” 

Ren sighed and started to work through the problem. When he reached something that looked close enough to a right answer, he looked back at Akechi. “There has to be something you want to do,” he pressed. 

"I want to hit Maruki repeatedly with a lead pipe,” Akechi said. “Just kidding," he added tonelessly after seeing Ren's unimpressed look. 

“You’ll turn yourself in after this,” Ren said.

"Yes, I will." Akechi raised his chin defiantly, as if daring Ren to comment. 

“Well…" Ren paused. "We're stuck together, but it's your life, too," he said eventually. "So I just thought that before you–" 

Akechi cut him off. “After this is all over, no matter where I am, I'll be free. I won’t be anyone’s puppet anymore. That's my priority, and I don’t expect you to understand how important it is to me.” 

Ren wanted to argue, but he stopped. It was difficult to admit to himself, but Akechi was right. Ren could sympathize with Akechi, but he couldn't really fathom how it felt to be trapped the way he had been. Although they'd both been pawns in Yaldabaoth's game– something that always exhausted Ren to contemplate– Ren had had his relative freedom. That was something Akechi had gone without for much longer. 

“And so," Akechi continued, "what I’m most interested in doing right now is stopping Maruki and returning the world to normal.” 

“But there has to be something. Just think about it,” Ren insisted. “It can be small.”

“Ridiculous,” Akechi muttered. He looked irritated again. 

Ren looked at Akechi, who was staring down at his own finished worksheet. Impulses poked at him– the anxious need to shift restlessly and fidget, the frustrated desire to slam his textbook closed, and a strange, mournful need to cry. His muddled emotions felt hazily-formed, their source unclear, as if what he felt was being magnified or distorted through an unfamiliar prism– as if his feelings weren’t wholly his own. 

“Don’t,” Akechi said suddenly, raising his head. 

“I wasn’t–”  

Akechi was giving him a look that was almost a glare. Ren could read a number of feelings in his expression– confusion, indignation, bewilderment. “There’s no reason for you to be so sad,” he said. Then, more quietly, he muttered, “I don’t understand you.”

Sad? It was a small word that seemed almost inadequate. Was he sad? If he was, it was the kind of sadness that felt ancient and heavy, made more burdensome by time instead of easier to bear. Ren looked away, avoiding Akechi’s eyes. Perhaps he was sad for the person Akechi could have been– all of the things he could have done in another time or place that wasn’t here and now. 

Ren’s own thoughts were confusing him. Sad wasn’t the right word, and his feelings were impossible to explain– but if Akechi could feel them, too, what did it matter?  

On the way home, they managed to get seats on the train. Akechi, who didn't seem to be in any mood for conversation, turned his face away and closed his eyes, although his arms were folded and he looked too tense to really be at rest. 

Ren glanced at his phone and saw that Futaba had messaged him about the plan to head into Mementos later. After replying, Ren hesitated before deciding to send something else. 

[16:22] Ren : btw, we can talk about akechi if you want
[16:22] Ren: I know it's weird.

There was a delay of a few minutes before Futaba's typing indicator popped up on the screen. It disappeared and reappeared for another minute before new messages arrived.

[16:25] Futaba: …….ok
[16:25] Futaba: i didnt wanna say anything and stress you out more but
[16:25] Futaba: ITS WEIRD

Ren smiled slightly, fingers moving back to the keyboard on the screen. 

[16:25] Ren: yeah.
[16:26] Futaba: AND LIKE i srsly think it would be less weird if hed idk apologize at least for the things he did
[16:26] Futaba: like to haru and me yea but also to everyone else
[16:26] Futaba: but it seems like he doesnt even feel bad!!!
[16:28] Ren: I think akechi thinks when this is over, he can turn himself in and that’ll be enough to satisfy everyone. and that apologies won’t matter or mean anything until he does that
[16:29] Futaba: well thats stupid… bc being sorry and wanting to be punished arent the same thing
[16:29] Futaba: but that also kind of makes me feel bad for some reason
[16:30] Futaba: which is also dumb. i know he had his own stuff he went thru and i blame mostly shido and not him…. but i dont have to feel..... bad for him…....... i think
[16:30] Ren: you're right, you don't have to feel bad. but I think it’s nice of you to try and put yourself in his shoes anyway
[16:30] Futaba: i mean... you like him right. hes ur friend
[16:31] Futaba: you guys used to hang out and stuff
[16:31] Futaba: and even when we were making the plan to trick him in niijimas palace you never seemed that happy about it
[16:31] Futaba: even tho normally you love making plans to trick people
[16:32] Ren: yeah. it's hard to explain
[16:32] Ren: but he's my friend
[16:32] Ren: does that bother you? bc if it does I understand
[16:32] Futaba: well
[16:32] Futaba: i honestly dont get it but maybe if i think of you two like char and amuro itll make more sense
[16:32] Ren: who
[16:32] Futaba: ugh you know nothing of the great anime rivalries
[16:33] Futaba : anyway ig its better to be stuck with someone you like than someone you dont so good for you
[16:33] Futaba: even tho i cant tell why youd like someone like him tbh
[16:33] Ren: it's... complicated
[16:33] Futaba: (ಠ_ಠ ლ)
[16:33] Futaba: well
[16:34] Futaba: all of this is stupid and sucks a lot
[16:34] Futaba: but at least when we steal marukis heart things will be normal again
[16:34] Ren: they will be.
[16:35] Ren: hey, just so you know, I do care about akechi
[16:35] Ren: but you and the team come first for me
[16:36] Futaba: ＼٩(๑`^´๑)۶／
[16:36] Futaba: being sappy… gross!!!
[16:36] Futaba: im leaving bc you got sappy. bye
[16:36] Ren: lmao
[16:36] Ren: bye (*¯ ³¯*)

Ren put his phone away and glanced at the not-sleeping Akechi next to him. He had been truthful with Futaba when he said he would put the team first, but his bond with Akechi wasn't something he could easily see himself throwing away, even without the actualization link. Somehow, their connection felt at once instinctual and made with painstaking effort– something that was too important and had been forged too carefully to break callously. In any case, Akechi was cooperating with the group now. 

Ren felt some of that odd, primeval sadness return. He turned back to his phone and scrolled through his messages. It was best to temper his feelings. After all, there was a chance that Akechi might be able to tell what he was thinking. 

The next day brought a message from Sumire after classes ended.

[15:33] Sumire: hello senpai
[15:33] Sumire: if you have time today can we talk?
[15:34] Ren: sure, works for me
[15:34] Ren: akechi will be there though. that ok?
[15:34] Sumire: yes i don’t mind!

When he had known her as Kasumi, Sumire sent him messages with conventional grammar and capitalization. Now it felt as if a completely different person was talking to Ren. The degree to which Maruki had so thoroughly convinced her she was somebody else was eerie, and Ren felt a little disturbed at the thought. 

There was no room for doubts. They had to stop Maruki. It was the only right answer.   

“Sumire wants to talk about something,” Ren said to Akechi. “Can we go up to the roof?”

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” Akechi asked dryly.  

She was already waiting for them when they got there. “Ren-senpai,” she said. “And Akechi-senpai. It’s nice to see you both.” 

"You just wanted to talk to Ren, didn't you, Yoshizawa?” Akechi said. “I don’t have to listen."

Sumire shook her head. “No… I think it’d be better if both of you hear this. I wanted to… apologize. So. Um. I’m sorry!”

“Sorry?” Ren repeated, surprised.

“You two had to see me act like someone I wasn’t. I can’t imagine how awkward it it must have been.” Sumire chewed at her bottom lip. “But even despite that, Ren-senpai, you stood by me.” 

“Of course,” Ren said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“But still!” Sumire insisted. She looked at Akechi. “Um, to be honest, Ren-senpai’s been helping me with a lot of my troubles, so I wanted to thank him.”

“Ah, yes,” Akechi said. “That doesn’t surprise me. Ren’s quite the proactive friend, isn’t he?” 

“Right… I’ve heard as much from the others. It must be hard to handle so many people’s problems,” Sumire said. 

Both Sumire and Akechi turned to look at him. Ren scratched his cheek and tried not to fidget under the weight of their gazes. "It's not a big deal," he said. 

"Heh." Akechi smirked. "Don't worry about thanking Ren. He doesn't like having too much attention on him– that's why he excels at being a masked vigilante. I'd wager that in school, you were always the type to make jokes under your breath and not mind when somebody else repeated them more loudly, hmm?"

Ren rolled his eyes. "I get it– you're a detective." That had been an impressively accurate deduction, though.

Sumire laughed. "You two get along well."

Ren glanced at Akechi, who met his gaze for a second before looking away. "Yeah," Ren said. "I guess so."

“Actually… there’s something else." Sumire hesitated. “I'm sorry. It may be presumptuous of me, but I've been thinking. All of us know what it's like to be two different people, don't we?"

Akechi hadn’t been expecting Sumire to say something like that. Ren could tell by the way he changed his stance, putting a hand on his hip and tilting his head to look at her with inquisitive eyes. "I suppose you could say that," he said. 

For his part, Ren knew what she meant at once. Being Joker let him be someone else, someone who had no reason to worry about his reputation, someone who was fearless and for whom the idea of agonizing and hand-wringing over the unchangeable past was unthinkable. He probably enjoyed being a Phantom Thief a little too much. 

"I don't really know what your circumstances are, Akechi-senpai, but I thought you might understand. Without my sister…" Sumire looked pained, as if even saying the words troubled her, but she only faltered for a moment before continuing. "Without Kasumi, it feels like part of me is gone. So I'd really like to talk about everything. About her and myself."

Akechi raised an eyebrow. "Having more people hear you out isn't always the ticket to assuaging your guilt."

"That's… well…" Sumire looked flustered.

"It's all right, Sumire," Ren told her. "Go ahead." 

So she told them, in halting sentences that seemed almost painful to say, about her sister and the time they spent training together.

"Kasumi did well at everything. Everyone admired her… and she was so confident that she got used to all the attention really quickly.” Sumire sighed. "It wasn’t the same for me. My old school interviewed me about gymnastics once for the newspaper, and I totally flubbed it.” She looked at Akechi. “That reminds me– you always seemed at ease while on television, Akechi-senpai. I thought it was really impressive." 

Akechi shrugged. “I’ve had a good deal of practice, so I'm accustomed to the spotlight.”

“You’re like Kasumi, then. She was honestly born to be a star. Meanwhile, I was always lagging behind... so I realized eventually that I was never going to be as good as her. But she was always kind to me, anyway– she always tried to help me. That kindness was so…” Sumire sighed again– she seemed to have a habit of it. “So infuriating.” 

Akechi laughed, and then cleared his throat. “My apologies. I didn’t expect you to say something like that.”

Sumire smiled a little. “Well… I guess I haven’t been being very honest with myself. Actually, I haven’t been honest at all. But now I remember– Kasumi’s gone. And I’m still here.” She looked down at her lap. “And I can’t figure out why.”

“I know it’s hard,” Ren said, after a moment. “But accepting it is all you can do. And I think you’ve made a good start at it.”

“Yes,” Sumire said quietly. “I know. Like I told you, I’m done running. Um…” She looked up. “Ren-senpai, you’ve been spending time with me while thinking that I was Kasumi. But now that I’m Sumire, will you still… hang out with me?” 

“Of course.” Ren smiled. “We're friends.” 

“Right.” Sumire looked a little happier. “Then I intend to keep up my end of our deal, too.” She turned to Akechi. “Actually, I’ve been training Ren-senpai. And now I’m thinking I’m going to be even more strict! Right now’s an important time for us to get stronger, after all.”

“Uh, what does even more strict entail?” Ren said warily.   

“You’ve been training him?” Akechi looked interested. “I’d like to see Ren attempt to exercise discipline. If you’re going to continue while all of this is happening, I’ll have no choice but to come along, anyway.”   

Sumire smiled. “To be honest, I’m asking for myself, too. It probably sounds silly, but I want to remember the dreams Kasumi and I had when we were kids. I want to become as successful as I can as a gymnast.” 

“If you’re aiming that high, then you’ll have to brush up on your interview skills,” Ren said, smiling back. “Akechi could give you tips.”

Sumire looked at Akechi with shining eyes. “Really? I would appreciate it!” 

"You two are just full of energy, aren’t you?” Akechi exhaled. “Well, let's focus on stopping Maruki first.” 

Sumire nodded, smiling again. “I’m still… a little confused, but I feel much more confident with both of you guiding me. I’ll do my best not to let you down.”  

“I know you won’t,” Ren said. “I have faith in you.” He gave Akechi a meaningful look.

Akechi frowned at him, but when Ren didn’t avert his eyes, he finally said, grudgingly, “You’ve proven that you’re strong enough to hold your own. I have no doubt you’ll be an asset to the operation.”

“Ah… thank you!” Sumire nodded firmly. “Yes! An asset! I’ll definitely be that!”   

Ren felt a burst of laughter coming on and pressed his hand to his mouth to suppress it. 

“I’ve been thinking,” Akechi said. “We should try to touch each other less often.”

Sojiro had procured an extra apron from somewhere for Akechi to use when he was working at Leblanc. Seeing him wear it was slightly surreal and profoundly distracting. It took a second for Ren, who was supposed to be wiping the counter clean, to process what he had said and to respond. “Why? It makes things easier.”

Akechi sighed as he arranged items on the shelves. “Didn’t that man mention a need for balance? There’s no sense in fighting the actualization link, but we can’t let it control our actions. I assume that the more we're… close, the harder it'll be to function when we’re not touching. If you deprive yourself of something, it soon becomes easier to go without it. You’ll have to learn that eventually.” 

“And you already have?”

Akechi laughed harshly. “Many times over.” He slid the last jar back into place and turned to Ren, folding his arms. “And I'm only saying that in the interest of being honest, so don't you dare pity me, or I’ll change my mind about not killing you.”

Ren heard the quiet, muffled sounds of paws against the floor as Morgana moved around the café. He was probably retreating to lie on one of the booths and pretend he couldn't hear them speak. He'd been doing that a lot lately, which made Ren feel guilty, but there wasn't much Ren could do about it– short of throttling Maruki and demanding that he find a way to sever the actualization link, which probably wouldn't produce any actually meaningful results. 

"You know, it’s nice." Ren put thoughts of Mona aside and leaned against the counter. “That you’re actually being honest with me, I mean.” 

"Is it so surprising? I actually find this somewhat refreshing. An equal partnership has its merits.”

Ren was left to contemplate those words as they finished their chores.

They headed upstairs when they were done washing up. Morgana didn't follow– he probably planned to come up to the attic after Ren and Akechi had turned the lights off and gone to sleep. Frowning at the thought, Ren fell back onto his bed.

Akechi picked up his own clothes and gave Ren a look. Ren dutifully flopped around to face the window while Akechi changed. Staring at the unwashed pane of glass, he said, “You know, you really know how to give a guy mixed signals.” 

"Excuse me?" he heard. 

The sounds of clothes rustling had stopped, so Ren turned back around and sat up. “Sometimes you bring up killing me and act like you hate me, then you say you like being around me,” he told Akechi, who was now wearing his sleepwear. He shrugged. "Do you blame me for getting confused?"

He had really only been teasing, but Akechi stiffened. “Finding your company generally tolerable doesn't mean I have to enjoy being forced to be near you at every moment. In any case, this is who I am. I don’t know how to be anyone else.” He sat down on the futon, turning away with his back against the bed. 

Ren leaned over to see Akechi's face better. Pointedly avoiding Ren's eyes, Akechi fixed his gaze on an indeterminate spot across the attic. 

"Okay," Ren said. "I won’t ask you to be anyone else, then.”

Akechi turned to look at him. His mouth opened slightly– he seemed strangely shocked. Then he pressed his lips together. “Good,” he said. 

Ren felt a sudden surge of affection for him. He got off the bed and sat down on the futon, scuttling closer to Akechi until there was hardly any space left between them. 

Akechi made a huffing noise again. “I just said–”

“Just for a little while,” Ren said. “It can’t hurt.” Pushing his luck, he leaned over and lay his head on Akechi's shoulder. 

He waited for Akechi to complain or push him away. Miraculously, Akechi did neither. Ren marveled quietly at how relieving it felt to be near him. “I think you’re wrong, by the way,” Ren said. 

"What?" Akechi relaxed slightly, leaning a little into Ren’s side. 

Ren closed his eyes. “I think going without something doesn’t make it easier to not have it.” 

He heard Akechi scoff. “How foolish. You have a lot of cheek.”

“I thought that’s why you like me.” 

For a moment it didn't seem like Akechi was going to respond. Then he said, “That’s one reason.”

Ren felt himself smiling before he realized that he was.

Chapter Text

A week came and went, passing by in a flurry of activity. Ren and the team split their time between classes, Mementos, and the Palace. Little by little, they were breaking down Maruki’s defenses, venturing deeper and deeper into the heart of his distortion.  

Through it all, Akechi was there with Ren– losing him points with Iwai as he frowned over his shoulder at Untouchable, raising an eyebrow in silent judgment as Ren chewed around a large mouthful at Big Bang Burger, and dawdling endlessly in the bathroom when Ren just wanted to wash up and go to bed. His stiff presence was a constant distraction at school, and listening to his icy remarks was a pain more often than it wasn’t. 

But Akechi was also there at Leblanc, tentatively trying out the coffee-making equipment, listening to Ren’s instructions and saying nothing when his excuses to touch Akechi’s hands got progressively flimsier. He was there when neither of them could sleep, his disembodied voice in the darkness mild and thoughtful. Sometimes when he spoke for enough time Ren would learn some new detail about his past or his life– small things, like the fact that he’d lived in five different apartments before the age of six, or that he’d always wanted a dog. But those moments were few and far between, and sometimes asking Akechi questions in the hopes of hearing more only made him fall abruptly silent. 

Yet with the actualization link, words were becoming less and less necessary. 

After school, on a cloudy, wet day– following this new world's strange, idealistic logic, what should have been a harsh winter downpour fell as gently as a summer rain– they were down in the depths of Mementos. Or up in them, as it were– the way this area was laid out was a little disorienting, as was the fight that Ren was currently engaged in with a particularly nasty Moloch. It took more effort than he’d anticipated, but eventually he and Akechi were able to turn the Shadow to dust. 

“Well, that’s that,” Ren said, stretching, and then turned to see that all of the other Thieves were staring at them. “What?”

“That was scary,” Ryuji murmured.

Futaba’s voice crackled to life in Ren’s ear. "Um, did you two forget that Queen and Skull are on the front line, too? You guys had such a back-and-forth going that they couldn't even make a move!"

"Joker," Makoto said slowly, "the way you two were attacking, it was as if–” She shook her head, looking bewildered. “As if you knew what Crow was going to do before he did it.”  

"Um." Ren ran a hand through his hair. 

After a beat of silence, Futaba said, "Welp. Let’s keep moving." 

Morgana dutifully transformed back into a vehicle, and everyone piled inside to continue the journey. Now that they'd reached the control room at the end of the new area of Mementos, they were here to re-appropriate some money from Shadows and do a little training– mostly for Sumire’s benefit. She was a good fighter, but the Metaverse took some getting used to for anyone, and Ren could tell she was grateful for the added time to adjust. 

Today she seemed different, though. Ren had noticed she was saying less and frowning more, and when he called her name she took longer than usual to respond before snapping to attention, with a “sorry, senpai” that sounded less enthusiastic than it usually did. Ren made a mental note to look into it later. 

Inside the car, Ann turned to look at Ren and Akechi, pigtails swaying. “Hey,” she said, her expression open and curious. "What does it feel like, anyway? When you're apart from each other?" Sensing everyone else’s gazes, she looked around. "What?"

“They already told us it's painful,” Makoto reminded her from the driver’s seat.

“I know," Ann said, "but I just thought–”   

"Heartbreak," Ren said. 

The conversation died abruptly.

“It feels like that,” Ren clarified unnecessarily. He cleared his throat and turned to look out the window to avoid everyone’s eyes. They were probably all wondering what the hell had just compelled him to say that. They weren't alone. Lately Ren felt like he was always putting his foot in his mouth. Yet the word he’d used was the only one that seemed to fit. 

“Oh,” Ann finally said, clearly floundering. 

Ryuji laughed. "Good one, Joker."

Good old Ryuji. He could almost always be reliably counted on to fall short of correctly reading the mood. 

"How about you, Crow?" There was still humor in Ryuji's voice. "Your heart broken too?" 

Ren glanced to his side. Akechi was looking ahead. When he spoke, he sounded mellow and contemplative. "It feels like I'm in search of something important, and I won’t be able to rest until I get it back."

Ryuji cocked his head. “What, like your wallet?” 

“Ugh, you're so dense, Skull,” Ann said. 

The chatter devolved into bickering. Ren turned to Akechi again, willing him silently to look back– but the look in his eyes was distant, as if he was focused on something much farther away than anybody or anything in the car. 

That night, Ren was staring at the ceiling in bed. Akechi was asleep– Ren had learned, by then, how to tell the difference between the patterns of his quiet breaths. He was thinking about trying to sleep, too, when he heard Morgana shift slightly at his side.

“Ren,” Morgana whispered. 

"Hey."

“Can we talk?”

Ren nodded.

“I was thinking," Morgana said quietly. "About Akechi– well, it’s not like we’d be working with him if we didn’t have to.” He looked at Ren and added, quickly, “I mean, most of us wouldn’t. Um…”

“It’s fine,” Ren said, offering a tired smile. “I get it.”  

“I was ready to accept him as part of the team anyway. But it really seems like he’s only comfortable with you, and maybe Sumire.” Morgana hesitated. “The actualization link made it a lot harder to fight, but I think the Phantom Thieves work better when you guys are more in sync. So…” He lowered his head. “I decided that I’m going to stay with Futaba until Maruki’s deadline. Starting tomorrow.” 

Right. The deadline. It was in less than two weeks, Ren remembered. And when it passed, when they were back in the real world, the link between himself and Akechi would be broken. 

He made himself pay attention to the matter at hand. “Mona,” he said. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“I know that! But it’s for the best.” Morgana hesitated. "I'll miss you," he admitted grudgingly, which made Ren smile. "It won’t be for that long, though. And it just feels right.” 

Ren couldn't say he was very surprised– he had seen the way Morgana had taken to skulking around corners, hovering at the edges of Ren's space rather than recklessly invading it as he always had before. Ren hadn’t known how to correct it or what to do. But was there anything that he really could have done? “I’ll miss you, too,” he told Morgana, meaning it. 

“No slacking off while I’m gone, okay?” Morgana yawned. “Just because I won’t be there doesn’t mean you can stay up all night. And no skipping meals!” 

“Thanks, Morgana. You’re a really good friend.”

“Heh.” Morgana grinned at him. “I know. Now let's get some sleep."

The next day was one they'd set aside to train with Sumire, but she wasn’t responding to Ren’s texts. After he had spent a while staring at his phone, Ren heard Akechi sigh.

He looked up to see Akechi watching him. “Let’s go pay her a visit already," he said. 

Ren must have looked surprised, because Akechi raised an eyebrow and asked, “You’re worried about her, aren’t you? You were going to suggest it eventually. Do you know where she lives?” 

“Yeah… she told me once. But I’m not sure–”

“Great.” Akechi was standing up. “Now let’s go.” He frowned. “I can’t seem to sit still.”

No wonder– Ren had been restless for a few minutes now. 

One subway ride and a short walk later, they were in front of Sumire’s home, a two-story, modern house with a well-tended lawn.

"What a nice house." Despite the compliment, Akechi sounded derisive in the same way he did when he talked about Ren's country manor. "If tragedy hadn't struck, Yoshizawa would have no cause for grief in her life."

"I don't know about that. It seems like for a while, she's been sort of… depressed."

"So any difficulties she encountered would have been because of her own shortcomings."

Ren glanced at him. "Hey, do me a favor."

Akechi frowned. "What?"

"Try not to be an asshole for a few minutes." Ren knocked on the door. 

It was answered by Sumire's father, who was clearly surprised to see them until he learned Ren's name. "Amamiya, of course," he said. "Sumire talks about you a lot. You’re the one who picked out my glasses, aren’t you?”

The afternoon that he and Sumire had gone shopping felt like ages ago. Ren nodded, smiling. “They look good on you.” 

“It's nice to finally meet you." He smiled back, and then he peered closely at Akechi. "Ah… Akechi! You're here too." He looked confused, his brow furrowing. "Do the two of you know each other?"

"Your daughter introduced us," Akechi lied smoothly. 

Yoshizawa kept looking at Akechi strangely for a moment before his expression evened. "It's nice to see Sumire has such good friends. But… I'm afraid she's in bed right now."

"Oh," Ren said.

"I'll go wake her up," Yoshizawa added quickly. "She wouldn't want to miss seeing you, I’m sure." He hesitated for a second, hovering near the door as if he wanted to say something else, before smiling a little awkwardly again and leaving. 

When he was gone, Akechi folded his arms. "He can't remember how he knows me, I'd wager.” 

"He's the director of that morning show,” Ren said, remembering. 

Akechi nodded. "In this reality, there's no reason we should be associated with each other." He smiled– it was small and ironic. "Since I'm a nobody now."

Before Ren could respond, the sound of socked feet thumping against the floor was suddenly audible. After another moment, Sumire appeared in front of them. 

“Senpai, I’m so sorry," she said. She had clearly gotten out of bed in a rush– she was dressed, but her hair wasn't as neatly in place and her eyes looked tired. "Today just… It completely slipped my mind. Um, please come in."

She led them into the living room, which looked tastefully decorated, if not very lived-in. "Do you want water or tea?"

When they shook their heads, she sighed and sank into a chair. "Like I was saying, I totally forgot about today."

Akechi made a tsk noise, and Sumire's face reddened. "I'm sorry," she said again, sounding miserable. "There's really no excuse." 

"It's fine," Ren assured Sumire. He and Akechi sat down on a couch across from her. "Just… are you okay?"

For a moment Sumire was silent. Then she said, in a low voice, “There are good days and bad days. This… is one of the worse ones. Yesterday was too.” She looked at the ground. A lock of hair fell in front of her face, and she languidly pushed it back into place. The simple action seemed as if it took great effort. "I don't think this is a good time for me to practice. I'm really sorry. You came all this way…"

Ren frowned. "If we can help–" he tried.

"No.” 

The abrupt dismissal was a little jarring. Noticing Ren’s expression, Sumire quickly said, “Um… Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just–” She sighed. “Ren-senpai, I really didn't want you to see me like this." She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice sounded even smaller. "Especially not you. And... not after I said I was going to be strong." 

"So, you just thought that if you claimed to be strong enough times, everything would get easier?"

Ren and Sumire both turned to Akechi. Ren gave him a warning look. 

"What?” Akechi shrugged. “I'm just curious. It's not a bad method. Sometimes it even works."

After a moment of silence, Sumire found her voice. "It does work, sometimes, but… I know I can't keep it up forever." When Akechi didn’t reply, she looked away. "In the end, I guess all I'm doing is pretending.”  

Akechi shook his head. He seemed suddenly exasperated. "Do you always think in such stark terms?" 

The pot was calling the kettle black, in Ren’s opinion. 

"You might as well start somewhere," Akechi continued. "You seem to think it’s useless if it doesn’t solve everything, but there’s hardly anything wrong with a little pretending.”

"I… I don't know," Sumire muttered. 

Akechi scoffed.

There was silence for another moment. Then, Ren stood up. “Are you two ready to leave?”

Akechi and Sumire turned to him. Sumire looked confused. “Ren-senpai, like I said, I really don’t think I can train you today.”  

"I know,” Ren said. “So let's get something hot to drink instead."

"What?" Akechi and Sumire spoke at the same time. 

"Seems like we could all use a pick-me-up," Ren said. “Well, I know I could. Coming?”

Ren had coffee or tea in mind, but they ended up at a ramen shop after Sumire admitted she was hungry and Akechi made a small sound of agreement. It wasn’t a environment conducive to any kind of heart-to-heart, but Sumire managed to look morose even while slurping noodles.  

“You don't have to look so concerned, senpai,” Sumire said after a while, and Ren realized his feelings was showing on his face. “This is honestly how I usually am,” she went on. “I appreciate it, though. That you cared enough to come all the way to my house…" Her gaze was a little too adoring. 

“Akechi suggested it, actually,” Ren said quickly.  

"Oh!" Sumire’s face fell for just a second before she smiled. "Thanks, Akechi-senpai.”

Akechi made a somewhat grunt-like noise. 

“But, um, as I was saying, I was always a pessimist, I guess.” She was quiet for a moment. “I can’t believe I forgot.” 

Ren tugged at his bangs. He had never been good at putting his feelings into words; talking about himself always felt uncomfortable and vaguely embarrassing. "When I had to stop going to school for a while, I had days like that too,” he said carefully. “Ones where I didn’t want to do anything or even get out of bed. I know it’s not the same, but… I’m trying to say you don’t have to be strong all the time. It’s okay.”

“Thanks, senpai,” Sumire said quietly. “I’ll try to remember that.”   

“Stop it,” Akechi said abruptly. 

"What?" Ren looked at him, confused. There seemed to be no reason for why Akechi should be glowering at him like that. 

"Do you really intend to go on keeping it from her?" Akechi turned to Sumire. "That was my fault, you know," he said. "Ren. The reason he felt awful; the reason he had to play dead– it was all a result of my actions.”

“Akechi,” Ren said in disbelief. 

Surprisingly, Sumire didn't look too taken aback, but she still hesitated before speaking. "I'm… Give me some credit, senpai. I could tell that the others– I mean, I wasn’t sure why exactly everyone acts different around you, but I could tell that something happened before, something I wasn’t there to see. But I was waiting for you to tell me yourself. I wanted to hear it from you, Akechi-senpai–”  

“Don’t call me that.”

Sumire went still.

Akechi sounded livid. “No one wants to mention it, and this one is too noble, I suppose, to tell you, but I tried to kill him." Sumire made a small noise of surprise, but Akechi continued. "Under orders, but that hardly matters. And that's not the worst thing I've done. I was taking orders like that for a long time. You know what that means, don’t you?”

“Akechi…” Sumire whispered.

“So I'm not your senpai, or your friend, ” Akechi continued rashly. “Don’t be stupid. Do you have even a single ounce of self-preservation?” 

Ren expected Sumire to fall silent or ask hesitating questions. He certainly didn’t think she would argue, although when she put both her hands on the table in a gesture that wasn’t quite a slam, but something almost as emphatic, it was clear that arguing was her intent. “But you’re working to bring back reality!” She looked as defiant as she did in the Metaverse. “And you tried to protect me from Maruki! And… maybe you're a little mean about it, but you give me advice!”

Akechi began, contemptuously, “You don’t know what you’re–” 

“On top of all that,” Sumire interrupted, “Ren's your friend. And I can tell he’s comfortable around you. Whatever happened between you two in the past… he trusts you. So I'm going to believe in what I see and what I feel, and trust you, too.” She sat back, finally, and took a breath. “Sorry, senpai. Whatever you say, I don’t think that’s stupid of me.”

Akechi looked speechless, for once. 

Ren glanced around the restaurant– no one seemed to be paying attention to them, so that was one fear assuaged. But he found himself unable to predict what Akechi would say next.  

Akechi sat back, looked resigned. Ren waited.

“I,” Akechi said slowly, “am surrounded by completely incomprehensible people.” 

Ren grinned, feeling a flood of relief. He rested his chin in his hand and looked at him. “She’s right, you know.”

Akechi closed his mouth and looked away. “Trust, huh? Your friends more-or-less act like they expect me to attack you at any moment.” 

Ren shrugged. “I’m not them. But since you clearly really want to hear me say it– yup, I trust you.” 

“ What ?” Akechi looked so indignant that it was almost comical. 

Sumire clearly felt the same way, judging from her sudden giggling. Ren looked over to see her smiling. “You two are kind of funny, you know,” she said. “I actually feel a little better.”

“Ugh,” Akechi muttered. “I’m glad you find us so entertaining. I think we’re done here.” He raised a brow. “Unless Ren wants to order more food.”

“No need to judge just because you barely ate,” Ren said. “This place is good.”

“Yesterday I watched you eat a burger that could have conceivably fed a family of four.”

“That was yesterday,” Ren said. “I’m hungry again.” 

Sumire laughed again. Ren smiled. Akechi rolled his eyes. For a moment, it was almost as if things were normal. 

They took the subway home, parting ways with Sumire at the station. After they’d gotten seats next to each other in a car, Ren looked at Akechi as the train started to move. “Hey. Do you get the feeling that it's… different?”

Akechi took a moment to reply. “I don’t know.” 

Normally Ren might accuse him of dodging the question, but he knew it was hard to articulate the strange subtlety of the way the actualization link had become less of an oppressive force and more of an instinctive guide. Lately being closer to Akechi wasn’t just plainly relieving. It felt good, in a strange way that made Ren feel secretly guilty.  

“Maruki said something,” Ren said, “before. About how… in the new reality, he wanted people to be able to open their hearts to each other, or something. And if we remembered that, things would get easier.” 

“Do you think we should sit and share secrets like girls at a slumber party, then?” Akechi said dryly. 

“Why not? I haven’t had a slumber party in a while.” 

Akechi turned to him. “Ren.”

“Akechi.” 

Akechi didn’t smile. “You’re getting too comfortable with playing by Maruki’s rules.” 

Ren looked back at him and frowned, feeling irritation surge. He hated it when Akechi spoke to him like that– so dismissive and resigned, as if there was no way Ren could possibly understand, as if the path Akechi saw far in advance and discovered alone was always going to be the only one that was worth taking. 

“Whatever he might try to offer us isn’t worth it. He may think he can make the rules, but he’s just having delusions of grandeur.” 

“I get it,” Ren muttered. “Don’t really need to be talked down to, thanks.” 

“That isn’t what I–” Akechi looked annoyed for a minute, then suddenly tired. “Just… keep it in mind.”  

Ren slumped in his seat. He was tired of keeping things in mind and staying on his guard. What he really wanted was to be with Akechi, somewhere quiet and normal, in a reality that made sense. He wanted unlimited afternoons at average ramen places and the luxury of acting without anyone dictating what he did.

“Don’t make that face.”

Ren turned. Akechi was watching him, a small frown on his lips. 

Ren felt cold and constricted, as if a fist was taking hold of his insides and squeezing them. “I get it,” he said, bitter. “Can’t afford to have the leader upset.” 

Akechi didn’t respond for such a long time that Ren thought the conversation was over, but finally, he said, in a voice marked by reluctance, “It’s not that.” He glanced away. "To borrow a phrase from our stubborn ingénue back there, give me some credit. I return your trust, in that I know you won't be careless with your responsibilities. I just think that mopey look doesn’t suit you."

The metaphysical sensation of Akechi's hesitating concern felt thrumming and warmly real, like sunlight falling on Ren’s shoulders. The tight feeling faded, and, slowly, Ren smiled. 

“You’re great at comforting people, you know,” he said. 

Akechi cut his eyes at him.

“Really, I mean it,” Ren went on, grinning. “You should be a therapist.”

Akechi shook his head and turned away again. Then, after a moment, he said, "Don't even joke about that. Though I don’t doubt that even I would do a better job than Maruki.”

“Pretty low bar,” Ren said, and the corner of Akechi’s mouth twitched up in a small smile. 

It had been a suspiciously long time since anything really bad had happened, so the only thought Ren could summon when he was hit with a spell that felt like a bludgeon to his head was yeah, seems about right. 

"Oh, my God, are they okay?" he heard someone ask frantically when he was busy trying not to collapse from pain. Ann's voice. 

"Johanna, Mediarahan!" That was Makoto. 

Sensation returned to Ren's limbs slowly and stiffly as the cool energy of the healing spell flowed through him. He straightened and looked around. "What got me?" 

"Skull already killed the Shadow,” Morgana told him, looking concerned. “And, um… you didn't get hit, Joker. It was Crow."

Ren turned. Akechi was next to him as usual, rubbing his own head. “I’m fine,” he muttered when Ren looked at him. 

"Oh," Ren said dumbly. It was hard to wrap his head around the fact that Akechi had taken the blow, not him. He had felt the impact as keenly as if he'd been the one actually experiencing it– shared sensations between them had never been so strong before. 

"There's a safe room nearby, I recall," Yusuke said. "We would all benefit from taking a rest.”  

Still disconcerted, Ren went towards the safe room with the rest of the Thieves. They found the door and went inside, settling down in chairs and retrieving healing items. 

After a few moments, Futaba appeared by Ren's side. “Hey.”

“What’s up?” Ren asked her. 

She looked from Ren to Akechi and back again. “Do you guys really have a handle on this thing?” she said flatly.

Akechi crossed his arms. “You seem to be forgetting that we don't actually have control over this situation."

“But I thought you figured out ways to manage it,” Futaba replied. “Violet said you made a routine, or whatever.”

“A… gymnastics routine?” Makoto said, brows furrowing.  

“I was just, um, making a comparison,” Sumire said quickly. “Anyway, I think Crow-senpai and Joker-senpai have been managing pretty well…”  

"It's been okay up ‘til now,” Futaba said, “but what about when we have to fight Maruki?"

"It'll be fine," Ren said. He looked around the room. Nobody seemed especially convinced. 

"Joker,” Akechi said. When Ren looked over at him, he added, "Can I have a word? In private?"

"Uh, right now?" 

"If you please," Akechi said impatiently. "Just outside the room should suffice."

“Is it really safe for you two to go out on your own?” Haru's high, polite voice took on a dubious tone. 

“It’s all right,” Ren told her. “We’ll stay close. And I don't think there are a lot of Shadows around.” 

“Well, don’t take too long, yeah?” Ryuji said with a frown. 

Ren nodded before standing up and following Akechi, feeling everyone's gazes on his back. He felt on-edge– restless and wired, like he wanted a fight. He didn't want to admit it, but he was still a little shaken. The phantom pain from the spell that had hit Akechi was a dull, quiet ache. 

Akechi didn't stray too far from the door to the safe room before he found a wall to lean against and exhaled.

“Well?” Ren said, after a moment.

Akechi looked up at him. “What?”

“Why’d you call me out here?”

Akechi was silent for a moment. Then, he said, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know,” Ren repeated.

“I just– Ugh.” After a moment of hesitation, Akechi pushed up his mask. It was always strange to see the rounded features of his baby face after he took off that sinister-looking thing. “I wanted to be alone, I suppose. Not that that's even possible anymore,” he added bitterly. “Do you…” He fell silent. 

"Yeah?" Ren wheedled. 

"Do you remember," Akechi said, finally, "what it was like to be alone?"

The question took Ren by surprise. "Well… yeah," he said, but he heard the uncertainty in his own voice. Trying to conceive of solitary individuality was difficult when, for what seemed like ages now, he'd felt split in two. All of his restless impulses and private thoughts– his hopes, his fears, his desires– had long since transcended the boundaries of his body and found an arcane affinity with somebody else's soul.  

They stood there for another moment until Ren broke the silence, trying to lighten the strangely heavy mood. "Are you okay? You were the one that got hit."

"It doesn't matter," Akechi said quietly. "It doesn't matter which one of us took the hit when we both get hurt. Every choice is doubly weighted. I always did everything myself, for myself, knowing that I'd do penance in the end. Now–" He broke off.  

Ren wished he could think of something to say. All the words on the tip of his tongue felt clumsy and inadequate. 

"And you…" Akechi's voice cracked, drawing Ren's attention again. They stared at each other. "You're always right there, looking at me," he said. "And it's like I can feel it, you looking at me, I can feel your–" He broke off. His eyes were wide, almost frantic, and startlingly guileless. 

"Akechi," Ren said. He couldn't remember when he'd gotten so close. "Akechi–" 

He stopped. Words still seemed like weak, futile things. It was much easier to quit trying, to rely on the current of emotion flowing between them. Yes– it was easier to give the actualization link what it so badly wanted. Why had they spent so much time delaying the inevitable? Ren plunged forward and kissed Akechi.  

It was a helpless kiss, careless and undignified, and one that was returned regardless. Akechi's hands were on Ren's chest, clutching his shoulders, forceful and belligerent. Like the time they'd clumsily fought in Ren's attic bedroom, it felt combative and unavoidable. 

No words, no thoughts, just feelings. Finally the short, taut thread pulling them stiffly apart had snapped. It was overwhelming, and it felt good– a kind of relief that Ren had never known before. All the times they'd reluctantly tried to appease the actualization link were woefully inadequate compared to this. A distant part of Ren wondered why they hadn't done it before.

If he was thinking rationally, he could have easily thought of a million reasons why it was a bad idea. But he wasn't thinking at all, so only a second or two after they broke apart, he kissed Akechi again.

The rest of the world made itself known eventually. When they finally separated, Ren remembered where they were. He looked around quickly, but with nothing signifying immediate danger in sight, it was easy to turn back to Akechi. 

He was looking at Ren with eyes that were strangely melancholy. "Idiot," he said, voice ragged. He reached up and brushed Ren’s cheek with a feather-light touch. "Do you really think this will make things easier?”  

Ren couldn't think of an answer. When he swallowed, his throat felt dry.

Chapter Text

“It’s only because of the link,” Akechi said, even after rather violently pulling Ren into a Yongen-Jaya alley just ahead of Leblanc and kissing him in the way Ren imagined a trained MMA fighter might deliver a kick to an opponent’s jaw. “It’s just the link,” he muttered when Ren found himself accosted again on the stairs. “The link,” he added in the attic, half a minute later, before a prompt reenactment of previous events. 

After that, Ren had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from replying "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

And it seemed as if they'd both sleep well, since even the giddy feeling that naturally accompanied the rush of indulging themselves so dramatically couldn't fully lighten the load of exhaustion that hung heavy over the both of them. It had been a long day of Palace-crawling and emotional sidestepping. After washing up, Ren was only too glad to collapse into bed. 

Lying there on his cool sheets in the welcoming darkness, Ren felt the familiar, half-there phantom pains from Metaverse injuries sink slowly into him. At the same time, the omnipresent actualization link made itself known through the usual niggling feeling. Ren looked to his side. 

Akechi was standing next to the futon. He hovered over Ren’s bed like some kind of ghostly nighttime apparition, the moonlight casting warped shadows onto his face. They looked at each other. A kind of unspoken understanding passed between them.

A moment later, Akechi was aggressively clambering into Ren's bed. "I told you," he snapped as he shoved Ren closer to the wall with some pointed elbow jabs. "I told you that being stupid would make this harder. Now even having my own place to sleep is apparently too much to ask from this actualization link."

"Ow," Ren muttered, scooting over to make room. "You didn’t do anything to stop it, you know," he added, over Akechi’s mutterings of dark and expletive-laden phrases like “Link my ass, show you a fucking actualization, piece of shit hack doctor I’m gonna kick your…”  

Akechi resolutely flopped over to face away from Ren. "I'm going to sleep,” he announced, and went still. 

Ren waited for a couple of minutes. Then he said, “Akechi.”

Akechi didn’t move. 

Ren knew he wasn’t asleep yet. “Akechi,” he repeated, feeling stubborn. 

After the fourth Akechi , his new bedmate finally turned over. “What is it?” Akechi demanded. His voice was low and a little scratchy; he really did seem tired. Then his eyes narrowed and his lips turned up in a familiar smile. “What, are you suddenly feeling bashful?"

"You know, I hate that you say words like bashful."

"Embarrassed. Flustered. Shy," Akechi continued, undeterred. "It’s just because of the link, you know. There’s no need to be so timid."

“Huh,” Ren said. He shifted closer to Akechi and looked deeply into the other boy's eyes. 

Akechi met his gaze with a flat stare and a monotonous “What are you doing.” 

“Is it really just because of the link?” Ren waited a moment, before lowering his voice to nearly the volume of a whisper. “Or are you just telling yourself that because you’re scared?”

As Ren had hoped, Akechi didn't immediately retort. Instead he opened his mouth slightly and seemingly unconsciously, a surprised expression flitting across his face. 

Ren gave it another second before breaking out into a grin. "Now who's flustered?" he said cheerily. 

Realization dawned on Akechi's face before he huffed and shoved Ren. “Ugh. Don’t use your Shadow-charming sweet talk on me.” 

“Hey, only if you don’t use your detective talk on me.” 

They did the best they could to have a pillow fight with only a single pillow available. Eventually Akechi started to smile. Some kind of tension had been broken, so soon enough their tussling turned into idle conversation, into snickers and eye-rolls and  musings. Like so many other January nights in the attic with Akechi, this one felt like a sleepover, like the sharing of secrets between souls.  

“Well,” Akechi said, after a while. “If we’re finished flustering each other, I'm going to need to sleep at some point.” 

Ren yawned. He knew, at the back of his mind, that he'd made a mistake, that they'd crossed a line they shouldn't have, but he didn't want to think too deeply about it. There was nothing he could do now, anyway, and he was tired. “Good night," he said, resolving to block out any thoughts and sink rapidly into a blissful state of unconsciousness. 

“Right,” said Akechi. He paused. “Good night.”

A couple of days later they were back in the Palace. In the latest safe room they'd found, Ryuji was tapping his foot restlessly, his nervous energy clearly noticeable. Finally, he turned to Morgana. "Mona, we've gotta be close to the end, right?"

“I think so," Morgana replied, his expression serious. "The next time we come back here should be the last time we have to go in before sending the calling card." 

In any other Palace such an announcement would be met with exultation, but this time something was different. Ren looked around at his teammates. Makoto's expression was complicated. Sumire and Futaba glanced at each other. Yusuke put a hand to his chin, while Ann and Haru smiled, though they looked more hopeful than happy. And Akechi, next to Ren, as always, folded his arms and quietly scoffed. 

They were all approaching their limits, so after that, they called it quits, leaving the Palace and saying goodbyes before heading their separate ways. Eventually Ren and Akechi were back in Leblanc. Sojiro went home shortly after they arrived, but not before telling the two of them to clean and lock up, ignoring Ren's needlessly dramatic protests that his labor was being exploited. 

So they settled into what had become a familiar evening routine. On nights like this Ren would sweep the floor or make coffee. Akechi helped out when he could be cajoled or bothered, and when he couldn’t, he scritch-scratched in his notebook or stared off at some distant unknown point with a face that gave the impression that he wasn't really looking at anything.  

Standing there behind the counter as Akechi sipped coffee at the bar, Ren thought back to that day's Palace excursion. There was a sense of tense, mounting anticipation every time they were close to a Treasure. A kind of solemnity always hung over the team near the end of a Palace. Their usual chatter ceased, their expressions turning focused, their actions in battle more decisive. And this time, the effect was even more pronounced.

“It’s almost over,” he said to Akechi. 

“Right,” Akechi said simply in reply.

A comfortable silence overtook the café again. Ren filled a thermos with coffee. 

“By the way," Akechi said suddenly. After Ren raised his head, he continued, "I thought about it. What I want to do, before I no longer have the opportunity.”

It took a moment for Ren to remember. “Oh,” he said, surprised. He had thought Akechi had firmly dismissed Ren's earlier suggestion that Akechi think of something special to do before he had to go back into police custody. Interested, he leaned forward, his elbows on the counter. “Enlighten me, then.” 

Akechi looked up at him. “I want to leave.”

“Okay,” Ren said, raising his eyebrows. “Clarify?” 

“The city, I mean.” Akechi carefully laced his fingers around his cup of coffee, as if he was trying to capture a sense of warmth to hold and preserve forever. “I’ve never been outside of Tokyo.” 

“Seriously? You haven't?” Ren said, surprised.

“Yes, seriously," Akechi said, giving him a glare. "So I’d like to go somewhere else. Before I… can’t anymore.”

“Okay.” Ren thought about it. “I mean, sure. We could do it this weekend.”

Akechi raised his eyebrows. “We’re still not through to the end of the Palace.”

“We’ll get there. Finding the Treasure and securing our route is all we have left to do. I’ll tell the team to use the time to rest up before the big finish.” 

“You sound remarkably sure of yourself.” 

“You’re one to talk about overconfidence," Ren replied.

Akechi glared at him again.

Ren grinned, knowing he’d won. “Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t know. Anywhere.” Akechi leaned back in his chair. “Why don’t you pick? You could even take me to your little country hamlet. I’m sure it’d be amusing, in a bleak, pastoral type of way.”

“My hometown’s a little far for a day trip, if that's what you had in mind,” Ren reminded him. “And besides, I’m not sure if I actually want to go back there. Isn’t there something you really want to see?”  

Akechi hesitated. “Well, I suppose there is something.” 

Ren gestured to him, a wordless go on. 

After a short pause, Akechi said, "I want to see Mount Fuji."

"...Huh?"

Akechi folded his arms and gave Ren a defiant look, as if he was daring Ren to make fun of him.

For some reason Ren was caught off-guard by Akechi's choice of destination. Then again, he didn't really know what he had expected. "Uh. Okay,” he said, trying to think. “I have no idea how to do that."

"Forget it," Akechi muttered. "Never mind."

“No, wait,” Ren said quickly. He remembered something from one of the many travel guidebooks he’d idly flipped through on the subway. "I think… can't you see the mountain from the Five Lakes?"

"Which lake," Akechi deadpanned. 

"All of them? I don't know. But I'm pretty sure you can take a bus or a train to at least one of them from Tokyo. We can look it up." He raised an eyebrow. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Akechi was staring at him with naked disbelief. "You're actually serious? It would be an unnecessary hindrance. I'm almost inclined to think less of you for agreeing to indulge me at such a crucial time, you know."

Ren rolled his eyes. "Yeah, leave it to you to turn a conversation into a graded assessment. Besides, who says this trip's just for you?" He smiled. "I want to see Fuji, too."

Only a month ago Ren could never have imagined that he'd ever be planning a trip with Akechi, but a lot of things lately were turning out to be a "major mindfuck", as Ryuji often called the recent Maruki-initiated series of events.

Sunday was the day they chose for their excursion. It was the 29th of January, and Maruki's deadline was five days away. 

They'd bought tickets online the night before for a limited express train to Kawaguchiko, the closest lake with a view of the mountain. It had been a less expensive purchase than Ren had anticipated. "Clearly living in this reality has its financial advantages," Akechi had said dryly. 

They woke up early to get ready on time. After getting changed, Ren spent a few minutes rummaging for his wallet on his desk. When he found it he turned around triumphantly to see Akechi leaning against the wall. He'd tied his hair back, and– 

"You're wearing my jacket," Ren said. 

Akechi shrugged carelessly. "It seemed appropriate for the weather. You usually wear the other one anyway. Do you want it back?"

"Uh, I guess not."

"Good." Akechi pulled out his phone and raised an eyebrow when he saw the time. "Are we going or not?"

They went. Their first destination was Shinjuku station, where they were supposed to catch their train. On the subway there, Akechi glanced at Ren and said, "So, you really haven't told any of your friends about this?"

"I mentioned it to Sojiro. We'll only be gone for a half-day," Ren replied. "I just told the others I'm busy."

"I'm surprised they didn't bombard you with questions."

Ren smiled. "They know when to give me space."

"Could've fooled me." Akechi snorted and turned away. 

Half an hour later, after getting to Shinjuku, they'd boarded the train to Kawaguchiko station, the last stop on the line. Ren admired the cushioned seats and ample leg-room. The next time he saw Maruki he'd suggest actualizing up some identical amenities in the Tokyo subway.

Their car wasn't crowded; Ren assumed day trips up north were less popular in the winter. At the very back Ren saw a young couple who appeared to be looking at photos on a smartphone together. Ahead of them, there was a family with a mother, a father, and two children, one of whom was an older girl pressing buttons on her game console with rapt attention. The other was a younger daughter who kept tugging at her mom's sleeve and speaking in a low, excited voice. 

They all took brief notice of each other before turning back to their own activities. Ren was looking in the mother's direction when she looked up. Her eyes went from the chattering couple in the back to Ren and Akechi, and then back again. She gave Ren and Akechi another mildly curious glance before turning back to her children.

Ren snorted.

"What?" Akechi said. 

Ren glanced at him. "Just thinking that people probably think we're dating."

"Really?" Akechi said with some interest. He looked over at the family and smirked. Casually, as if he was simply following a whim, he shifted closer to Ren and pulled his hand into his lap, grasping it firmly. 

Ren stared down at their intertwined hands. "Well, they definitely do now."

"Seeing as they could never even begin to fathom the truth, we might as well encourage them to draw conclusions."

"You know, you're really weird," Ren told him.

Akechi shrugged. "You're one to talk."

The two hour-journey began after a few more minutes. Akechi immediately busied himself with looking out the window at the cityscape blurring by. Ren idly watched him for a while until his eyelids started to feel heavy.

The next thing he knew, he was feeling a hand gently shake his shoulder. Ren blearily opened his eyes and saw Akechi peering at him. "Wake up," he said. "We're almost at our stop. You missed some nice scenery, you know."

After a few minutes, they'd reached Kawaguchiko, the train coming to a smooth halt. Ren shuffled onto the platform, still blinking himself awake. Further in the station, he saw a vending machine and made a beeline for it. 

"I'm getting a coffee," he told Akechi over his shoulder. 

"And one for me too, correct?"

"Why would–" Oh. So they were still doing this. Ren stopped by the vending machine and put his hands in his pockets. "I thought we paid for our own food, because we're in a modern, more equal relationship."

"And I thought you were a gentleman thief," Akechi said brightly. "Don't tell me you've lost sight of the gentleman part."

Somehow, Ren ended up buying two drinks.

There was a small store attached to the station, selling souvenirs and sundries to restless tourists. They wandered towards it out of a sense of inevitability. At the entrance Ren made a big show of opening the door for Akechi, which earned him an eye-roll. 

"I'm a gentleman," he reminded Akechi as they headed inside.

"Yes, a real heart-stealer, clearly."

There was a small shelf in the corner of the brightly-lit store that contained a jumbled assortment of used books. Akechi, being Akechi, was drawn to it immediately. Ren chose to wander the aisles and look for other things with which to amuse himself. 

Soon enough he came upon a shelf full of assorted cheap collectibles. He quickly caught sight of a keychain in the form of a small dark-colored bird. With the press of a button, the bird opened its mouth and made a tinny chirping sound. Exceedingly amused, he promptly went to find Akechi again and present him with something fit for one who called himself Crow.

"That's a wood pigeon, not a crow," Akechi said dryly when he saw it. "Maybe you should look at the books, too. Clearly you could use the mental exercise."

Ren took a look at the shelf. "I just don't really see anything here that's going to meaningfully increase my knowledge, proficiency or charm." He glanced at the cover of the book Akechi had just picked up. "Shakespeare?"

"Yes. I'm surprised you've heard of him."

"Ha ha."

Akechi flipped open the book to a random page, took a moment to scan the words, and huffed slightly in amusement. "A man that apprehends death no more dreadfully but as a drunken sleep,” he read, "careless, reckless and fearless of what's past, present, or to come." He shut the book and looked up at Ren, a smirk on his lips. "Reminds me of you."

“Thanks," Ren said brightly. 

“I didn’t intend it as a compliment, but you’re welcome.” Akechi put the book back and continued perusing the available titles, looking intently at spines and occasionally picking up titles to read their back covers or look inside their dust jackets.

Ren took the opportunity to play with the keychain, but the novelty of watching the pigeon's mouth open and close could only hold his attention for so long. Eventually he decided instead to watch Akechi. After a minute, he said, "You like books."

"Yes," Akechi said slowly, looking at Ren like he was mentally questioning his IQ.

Ren hesitated, then said, "When you're in…"

"Juvenile prison?" Akechi said dryly. “You can say it, you know. I expect there will be reading material. Not a very extensive selection, I imagine, but enough to keep me occupied."

"Well, I mean, if you ever got bored, I could visit," Ren said. "To bring you some books, if you wanted." Ren kept his gaze fixed downwards as he stroked the pigeon's sculpted feathers.

"Ren."

Ren heard the tone of Akechi's voice, sighed, and looked up. "What?"

Akechi was frowning. "Maybe you don't realize how fortunate you are. When this is all over, you'll have gotten off scot-free. You'll have the freedom to do whatever you wish. After all that, if you insist on lugging dead weight around, you're a fool."

"So if it were me in there, that's what you'd do?" Ren fought to keep his voice level. "Move on with your life like we never even met?"

Akechi didn't hesitate, meeting his gaze calmly. "Obviously."

"If you think that's what would make you happy," Ren said, "maybe you're the one being a fool."

Akechi made a sound like a laugh, but his mouth was twisted in a sneer. "God, you're so simple. There's no ending to this story where everyone can be happy."

"That doesn't mean I'm just going to sit back and stop trying. I thought you'd at least understand that– not giving up."

Akechi looked away and shook his head. "Insensible of mortality, and desperately mortal , " he muttered.  

They stood there for another moment in silence. Finally Akechi sighed. "If you're not buying that, put it back," he said, gesturing at the keychain. "I think we’re finished browsing, don’t you?"

The town of Fujikawaguchiko reminded Ren a little of home. He hadn’t realized how much he missed the mountains; just seeing sloping hills in the distance was strangely comforting. And the absence of noise was notable and not unwelcome. Yongen-Jaya was secluded enough to serve as an oasis from most of the clamor of Tokyo proper, but here everything was softer, in the same way that things were in Ren’s hometown. 

The cashier at the station store had told them the way to the lake. On the walk there they were sidetracked by a restaurant that was serving hoto noodles, which Akechi pretended not to want until Ren lost his patience and pulled him inside the place.   

After eating they kept walking, through calm residential streets and past the occasional small shrine. A strong wind tousled and teased their hair. It was chilly, and a recent snowfall had left a layer of what looked like dusty white powder on the ground. Akechi kept pulling his jacket– Ren’s jacket– tighter around himself, but he didn’t seem discomfited. He wasn’t making any wide-eyed exclamations, but he regarded his surroundings keenly, and when he breathed he seemed to do so more deeply than usual, as if he wanted to take in as much of the thin mountain air as he could. 

The lake came into view eventually, looking frigid and tranquil. They walked around it for a good while in relative silence, seeing the occasional passerby or biker on the paved path, until– 

Akechi saw it first. He stopped in his tracks, grabbing Ren’s arm as he did. “Ren,” he said, his gaze fixed heavenward, and Ren couldn’t help but glance at him and his suddenly shining eyes before he looked up, too. 

The top of the mountain loomed before them, rising up behind a thicket of trees and partially obscured by clouds. It was distant enough to seem unearthly and mystical, and close enough to defy even the logic of a false reality. 

“Well?”

Ren turned. Akechi was looking sideways at him, smiling a little. “What do you think?” 

“It kind of reminds me I’m alive,” Ren said honestly. 

“How sentimental of you,” Akechi said. He looked back at the mountain again. “But I can’t say I disagree.” 

It was cold and windy and the tips of Ren’s fingers were starting to feel numb under his gloves, but by some unspoken mutual agreement he and Akechi stood still, shivering, looking out at the mountain. 

Without really thinking about it Ren reached out and took Akechi’s gloved hand in his. Akechi leaned slightly into his shoulder. 

“Looks just like how it does on my thousand-yen note,” Ren said. 

“It’s an active volcano, you know,” Akechi said. “We’re about due for another eruption.” 

"Cool. If we’re lucky, we’ll get to see lava when we come back here on our honeymoon."

It was the wrong thing to say. Ren could tell almost as soon as he'd opened his mouth. Akechi didn't move away, but something in his face changed. It wasn't because of the little joke they'd constructed around the idea of a relationship– Akechi had started that, after all. It was the way Ren had spoken of a future, one they couldn't have, and one Akechi didn't seem to want. 

Ren felt a sudden wave of gloom coming on and struggled to fight it. There was no sense thinking about this now, he told himself. He had only gotten this far by learning to be exceptional at compartmentalizing; he could push these feelings aside. “So,” he said quickly. “Why did you want to see Fuji, anyway?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” was Akechi's evasive reply.

“Just didn’t think you felt very positively about national symbols, I guess.” 

Akechi sighed. "First of all, I wanted to go somewhere relatively untouched by Maruki's delusions of godhood. I don't believe that he doesn't think nature can't be improved upon, but I did guess that he's enough of a bleeding heart to leave sacred sites alone. It seems I was correct." He caught Ren looking at him and frowned. "What?"

Ren beamed. "I was just thinking that you've actually gotten better at reading people correctly. Congrats."

Rather than dignifying that with a response, Akechi just gave him a withering look before he continued. "Also, I…" He hesitated.

Ren kept quiet, waiting for him.

"It's not as if I never had any hope," Akechi said at last. "When I was younger I operated under the delusion that there was an honest place for me somewhere. I was a child like any other, and I wanted to have New Year's dreams about eggplants and hawks and, yes, the mountain. Symbols have power, don't they? You should know that well by now, after seeing your Thieves' logo plastered on all of those T-shirts." He sighed sharply. "I suppose I wanted to see if the symbol had as much power in person as it does in stories."

"So… does it, for you?" Ren said softly.

"I've already stopped believing in the stories." Akechi stared at the skyline. "But… It seems silly to deny the objective importance of something that's right in front of me because of the meaning others have assigned to it. To me, it's only a mountain. It doesn't speak to the majesty of the country and it doesn't represent a goddess deserving of worship."

"Everyone's a critic," Ren couldn't help but say.

Akechi rolled his eyes at him. "Even so," he added, "it's beautiful. And I've never seen anything else like it." He went quiet for a moment. Then he said, more tentatively than usual, "That's the truth. That's something I can take with me."

He had a wistful expression on his face. Ren looked at him and felt, keenly, the limitations of that moment, the boundary where the present pushed up against the past and rushed into the future. The knowledge of his own powerlessness overwhelmed him. There was a part of Ren that itched to remake the world. That part of him thought he knew what Akechi deserved. 

“Akechi,” Ren said. “When we get back to the real world, the right one, there has to be something we can do. Punishing you won't help– it won't actually fix any of your mistakes. Makoto's sister can help, or–" 

"Ren." Akechi's voice was steady. “I don't want to talk about this again. I knew what I was doing. When you transgress like I do, there are consequences. I wanted my father–" he almost spit the word– "to pay for his sins, and he did, even if it wasn't in the way that I imagined it. That's my version of justice. I'd be a hypocrite if I balked at turning that same justice upon myself.” 

“Always black and white with you, huh," Ren said quietly. “I guess you really would have made a shitty vigilante.”

Akechi almost smiled. “There's something we can agree on.” 

They kept standing there, looking at each other, until they heard footsteps behind them and stepped to the side to allow someone to pass. Ren hardly registered the interruption, too caught up in his abstraction to tell if the passerby was a child or a man or a woman or neither. 

"I'm freezing," Akechi murmured.

His voice snapped Ren back to reality. He took a breath. He just had to not think about it. He had to focus on stopping Maruki. They were the only ones who could. There was too much at stake to get tripped up by his feelings. Ren made himself smile; he heard himself say, "I can warm you up." And off Akechi's look, he added, "What? I just think we're not looking very much like a happy couple."

"Ah. Of course." He thought he saw something like relief in Akechi’s expression before his eyes glinted. "I'd hate to fail to live up to expectations." 

Somehow they ended up kissing again. There, under the mountain, in the fragile light of the winter sun, it almost felt like truth.

Chapter Text

The flowers growing out of the earth in Maruki's heaven carried a strong, wild scent. Sunlight flooded the open, sprawling space, so fully that Ren had the strange feeling that he would be able to taste the rays on his tongue if he opened his mouth. It was an otherworldly, untamed Eden, and everything in it was a lie. 

Akechi, in his warped black outfit, looked out of place in this paradise. He stood there next to Ren with his arms folded and his posture stubbornly rigid, like a fallen angel defying the will of the heavens. 

“This is a dead end, isn’t it?” Ann asked uncertainly. “And we still haven’t found the Treasure…”

“Actually, we have," Morgana said. "Look up there."

When they did, they saw the Treasure high above them: a golden torch that almost hurt to look at, shining as brightly and resolutely as Maruki’s will. 

“So we’ve secured our path,” Makoto said firmly. 

"What about the calling card?" Ryuji asked.

“Maruki's aware of your usual modus operandi,” Akechi said. “It’s highly likely that he’ll contact Ren on the day before his deadline, and he’ll be able to give him the calling card. Then again, we could just lay a trap and destroy him instead.” A hint of a smile could be heard in his voice. 

As his teammates began to voice their respective objections to Akechi’s gallows humor, Ren's attention drifted again to the Treasure. Its distant vastness made him feel small. This journey had carried a significance that might as well have been unfathomable. It had all felt so much bigger than him– nearly limitless, just like Maruki's influence had seemed. Now it was coming to a close, and then what? What would come after?

Ren had spent so long reminding himself that the world in front of him was a false one that it was hard to accept that this was real, that it was really here– the end, the solution, the final maneuver that would fix it all.

No sooner had Ren's stomach given a pitiful rumble than Akechi's voice rang close in his ear. "Here."

Ren blinked and turned to the side, accepting the packaged bread roll Akechi was offering. "Thanks," he said. It was green-tea flavored, this time. Although Akechi had made fun of Ren's discerning tastes, he certainly seemed to remember his preferences. But then, they were now so attuned to each other's emotional fluctuations that it was almost as if they could read each other's minds. 

"You owe me," Akechi said. He sat down beside Ren on the floor of the school's rooftop before leaning back and closed his eyes. It wasn't long before his hand found Ren's. In the few days since that trip to Kawaguchiko, it had gotten easier to be quiet in each other’s company, and harder not to touch. 

It was chilly up on the roof, but at least the wind was weaker than usual. Dealing with the cold was the price they had to pay for some privacy, anyway. There had been some murmurs about himself and Akechi, though the vagaries of the Shujin gossip pipeline now seemed of so little importance that they only vaguely registered with Ren. Even then, things were easier when they didn’t have to explain away their constant closeness. 

They shared a calm silence for a few moments, and then Ren spoke. “Have you thought about how it's going to go back to normal if we win?"

"When we win," Akechi corrected. "And I thought we agreed that that was what we wanted."

"Yeah," Ren murmured. "Just… with everything back to the way it was..."

Akechi opened his eyes just to roll them. “I thought you were finished with second thoughts."

"I didn't say–"

Akechi cut him off. "You didn't have to. I know what you're thinking.” He gave him the same frown he used when Ren took too long to finish the last problem on a math worksheet. “Let me remind you again– this isn't how change is supposed to happen."

“So you're okay with business as usual. That doesn’t sound much like you.”  

Akechi looked flatly at him. "You're looking for a fight, aren't you?"

Ren didn't say anything, but Akechi must have seen the answer in his eyes. Of course he wanted a fight. Akechi was usually more than willing to provide one, and Ren enjoyed their perpetual back-and-forth more than he probably should have. He could manage to keep his cool with almost anyone else, but he was always itching to spar with Akechi. Akechi, who listened to everything he said and understood the things he left unspoken, who assuaged his doubts with blunt words that were almost always harshly spoken but somehow managed to make Ren feel less confused, more clear-headed, full of more willingness to meet whatever lay ahead– no, Ren would never give up a chance to fight with him. 

Yet this time, rather than taking the bait, Akechi just looked amused. "Well, you won't find one with me. This isn't the revolution I wanted, and it never will be.” He leaned back and closed his eyes again. “You already know that."

Ren tugged at his fringe and wondered what Akechi’s revolution looked like. When he dreamed of upheaval, did he picture fire and brimstone raining from the sky? Did he imagine himself walking over the fallen corpses of every powerful person who had ever turned a blind eye to his suffering?

Even if the revolution Akechi wanted took shape, he wouldn't be able to bear witness to the birth of a brave new world. From behind bars, he would only watch through the window and keep dreaming those blood-soaked dreams, dwelling more and more on the justified means rather than the ultimate end. 

"Hey."

Ren shook himself out of his reverie. Akechi’s hand around his tightened– an anchor holding him to reality. When he looked up, Akechi was staring at him. For a moment he had the strange feeling that Akechi knew exactly what he had been thinking about. 

But then Akechi was letting go of his hand, his tone light. "Stop sulking and finish your food."

“Wasn’t sulking,” Ren said. But he picked his roll back up. 

Ren still remembered when every evening that Akechi dropped in on Leblanc had been a notable occurrence, a welcome break from routine, something to mention to one of his friends or turn over in his mind all throughout the next day. Now during these nights, he mostly just felt drowsy.

A jolt of pain suddenly hit him. Ren yelped, feeling himself stumble, and caught himself before he could fall. 

He was still in Leblanc, and his forehead felt like he'd slammed it into the countertop, which was exactly what had happened. Ren rubbed his head, which was already beginning to throb. “Did I just–”  

“Fall asleep standing up?” Akechi was watching him closely. "Yes, you did."

“You could’ve done something,” Ren muttered, disgruntled. He tried his best to fix his bangs. 

“I couldn’t miss the chance to observe,” Akechi said, smirking. “It was just too fascinating.” 

“Uh, is it a bad time?” 

Ren turned in the direction of the new voice. It was Sumire, who he was surprised to see standing in front of the door. “Hey,” he said sheepishly. “When did you come in? 

“Just a moment ago. Hi, you two.” Sumire looked like she was trying not to laugh. 

Ren smiled, despite himself. “I’m awake now. Promise.”

Sounds of their chatter soon filled the café– pleasantries, complaints about school and Palace-crawling, expressions of encouragement, the occasional cranky quip from Akechi. It was an easy routine to fall into. 

“How are you... feeling?” Ren said, after a while. He was never quite sure how to make implicit references to the complex webs of problems all of his friends seemed to deal with. 

Sumire gave a tired smile when she heard the question. “Um, I’m… okay today, I guess. Thanks for asking.”

Ren nodded. "Okay's good."

"Yeah. For now, it's enough." 

They exchanged a smile. Then Sumire looked down, fiddling with her scarf. "Could I trouble you for some coffee?"

Akechi made the cup, under Ren’s watchful guidance. Ren had become something of a backseat barista lately, which never failed to rankle Akechi, but he couldn't help it. His months of dedicated practice under Sojiro's watchful eye had made him a little possessive over the equipment. 

"You’re pouring too quickly.” 

"Shut up. I’ll pour how I want to."

“It’s a science, not an art.”

“As if you know anything about either.” 

Maybe a little was a bit of an understatement. 

Eventually a decent-looking cup of coffee was produced, and Ren looked up brightly at Sumire, ignoring Akechi’s grumbling. “All right, time for the–” 

The look on her face stopped him. Sumire was watching them with a reserved, drawn expression, one that seemed small and a little sad. But under Ren's gaze, she quickly smiled again, reminding him of what he had been saying. 

"...Uh, the taste test," Ren finished, once again ignoring Akechi and the weird look he was giving Ren. 

Akechi handed over the cup with a grunted "Here."

Sumire accepted it and took a sip, instantly brightening when she tasted it. “It’s good!”

"You can be honest, you know," Ren told her. "Safe space."

Sumire laughed. "I am, I am, I promise.” 

"Of course she is," Akechi said, crossing his arms. The note of pride in his voice made Ren think he was actually happy to be praised. 

Sumire took another sip and then set her cup down. “So… I think I’m ready to show my routine to Coach.”

“Seriously?" Ren grinned. "That’s amazing.”

“I finally understand what I was doing wrong. I hope she likes it.”  

“After all those hours we watched you practice, I would hope so,” Akechi said. 

“Even me getting this far is thanks to the both of you,” Sumire said, smiling. “Especially you, Ren-senpai. You gave me the courage to accept myself.” 

Ren ran a hand through his hair. “Well, you know me...”  

“And… I have something else to tell you,” Sumire said tentatively. 

After a beat of silence, Akechi said, "Ah. I'll just put my fingers in my ears, then."

"Uh, no, it's okay," Sumire said quickly. 

Akechi either didn't notice or didn't care about the look of slight consternation on her face that seemed to suggest otherwise, because he simply shrugged one shoulder and said carelessly, "Fine."

Ren had the feeling he knew what was coming and felt himself start to get embarrassed. With any luck, it would be over quickly. 

Sumire folded her small hands and set them on the countertop. “I know you didn’t know my sister,” she said softly, “but from what I’ve told you about her, I think you’ll understand. Kasumi knew I was watching her whenever she performed, whenever she tried her best to improve, beating her own records over and over… I realized something recently. I think that I helped her, in that way. I gave her some strength.” She cleared her throat. “I understand that, now, because I found my own person to try my hardest for." 

"Uh. Who?"

"I think you already know, Senpai. Whenever I practiced, whenever I did my best to finish my routine… I was thinking about you.” 

Akechi snorted. 

Ren glared at him. 

Sumire, for her part, gave him a furrowed-brow, twisted-mouth look that clearly indicated annoyance. “Akechi-senpai, I’m still talking.”

“Of course,” Akechi said. His face had gone blank and expressionless. “Feel free to continue.” 

Ren wondered if they could get some kind of remote-operated sinkhole installed in Leblanc to conveniently swallow up and conceal him in case something like this ever happened again. 

Sumire took a breath and a moment to collect herself before looking up. Firmly, she said, “I really, really, like you, Ren-senpai.”

“Sumire–” Ren began halfheartedly.     

“No, please, let me finish,” Sumire cut in. “I really like you, but… I realized something. If I’m going to become a strong person, I have to do it for myself. Not because someone’s watching me."

"...Oh," Ren said, at a loss.

"Akechi-senpai's actually the one who helped me figure that out."

"What?" Akechi's demeanor quickly shifted from icy to confused. 

"All your advice about thinking for myself really helped," Sumire said, sounding a little shy. "The only person who can really change me is– well, me. But there's still a lot I don't really know about myself… so I need to get to know that person before I can get better." She paused, then gave a little, embarrassed laugh. "Sorry. That didn't make much sense, huh?"

"No, it's… no," Ren said, still a little unsure of what to say. "I understand."

“So. I just wanted to tell you that. I hope it wasn't too bothersome." She looked away and rubbed at her eyes. "I thought I'd only be happy if you liked me back. But, um… I think what I want more is to like myself. It’s probably for the best that I focus on that, for now." She looked back at him and gave him a slightly watery smile. 

"I…" Ren rubbed the back of his neck. He felt torn between relief and sympathy. "It's not a bother."

Sumire's expression softened. "Thanks. I hope you don't think…" She glanced quickly at Akechi before looking back at Ren. "I don't want to get between you and Akechi-senpai, I promise." 

Ren raised his head. "Oh… well, the link between us isn't going to last forever."

Somehow that earned him a strange look. “Oh, uh, I didn't mean… I was talking about how you two are…" She seemed to be waiting for someone to jump in, but when nobody did, she said, “Um.” 

"What?" Akechi said sharply. 

"I just really thought that–" She seemed confused. "Ren-senpai, don't you like..."

Silence overtook the café.

"You know what? I really have to get to practice,” Sumire said quickly. “Sorry! I’m late! Really, I can’t stay.” She hopped out of her chair and bowed hurriedly. “Thanks for the coffee! Um, I’ll just…” She turned away, and in another moment, the door was swinging closed and she was gone. 

Somehow Ren felt even more tired than he had before.

Akechi shook his head. “That one gets a lot of ideas.” Sometimes when he talked about Sumire he sounded like the weary parent of an excitable problem child. 

Ren looked at him. "You think?"

Akechi glanced away. "Well, she seemed to think you’d been pining for me, so I think it’s safe to say she has no trouble jumping to conclusions." 

After a moment, Ren said, "Maybe it’s not as big of a jump as you think.”

The second of silence that followed felt like an eternity. Ren watched Akechi’s expression quickly morph from neutrality to confusion to unguarded surprise. And then, finally, he scoffed. 

This was not quite the reaction Ren had expected. "What?"

“Please.” Akechi shook his head. "We're almost at the end. You managed this long without letting the actualization link get the better of you, so just–"

"No," Ren said. "That's not it."

So, this was it, then. They were really doing this, here and now on this sleepy evening. It was funny, and a little awful, how some of the most important moments– the ones that changed everything– had no forewarnings preceding them. The only thing he could do now was keep going. "I'm not weak enough to let it fool me, and you know that. And–" He forced his voice steady. “I think you know how I actually feel."

"Shut up," Akechi said tightly. For some reason he almost looked panicked. "You don't know what you're talking about. You have– no idea what you're talking about."

Ren felt the old anger bloom again. He could take a lot from Akechi, but not this willful denial, this stubborn and self-serving parody of the truth. "Are you serious? Since I met you, you’ve been flirting with me, and I–"

"That was part of a charade!" Akechi raised his voice. "I tried to kill you!"

"And then you kissed me– a lot–"

"That was because of the actualization link!"

"Bullshit," Ren said loudly. 

"You're a fool," Akechi said, his voice strangled. "A stubborn, idealistic fool who can't see beyond the obvious!" He looked away again. He was clutching at his apron with his left hand, his face hidden from Ren's view. "You don't realize that– that–" 

After a moment, Ren said, uncertainly, "Akechi–"   

But Akechi silenced him by turning around. Ren felt his stomach sink when he saw that his manner had changed– now he looked contemptuous and radiated cold composure. "You're so naive it's unbelievable. What did you expect– that I'd actually feel the same way about you?"

The words cut into Ren the way few other words ever had. For a moment he couldn't think.

"I can't believe I ever thought you were the strong, stoic leader," Akechi continued. A blank look had returned to his face. Then he sneered, a sudden change that warped his proud, handsome features. "You're a mess. I count myself lucky that after all of this is over, I won't have anything to do with you."

"You're lying," Ren said, struggling to keep his voice even. "I can feel what you feel, I know this isn't–" 

"No wonder you kept bothering me with those pointless doubts of yours. You really think you're living in some kind of fantasy, don't you?" Akechi hissed. "Where the power of love and friendship can fix every fucked-up thing that plagues this rotten world? Well, you can't fix me."

Ren was out of words, emptied of his will to fight. Now he could feel Akechi's antipathy so keenly it was like his skin was crawling with the sensation of being reviled. How had everything changed so quickly? Was there something he should have done differently?

No– he couldn't make himself regret it. He had no desire to take back his words. He had wanted Akechi to know how he felt, and he still did. Even if it had led to this.   

"We may be stuck together, but that doesn't mean we have to speak," Akechi said lowly. "I don't want to talk to you. Even looking at you right now is–" He cut himself off and turned away, his back to Ren. "Leave me alone," he said. Then he picked up Sumire's cup and stalked over to the sink in the back. 

Ren had to follow him. Which other choice did he have? Yet even when he was only a few steps away, staring at the wall and listening to the sound of running water, the space between himself and Akechi felt like it spanned a thousand miles. 

In all honesty, it was hard to believe it had taken so long to get to this point, Ren thought with considerable bitterness. Now he felt like an idiot for thinking Akechi could ever meet him halfway, that their differences could ever be reconciled. 

It was like a cruel joke– from now on, being together was probably going to be even more painful than being apart. 

Chapter Text

“Ren?”

Ren snapped to attention and remembered where he was– class, the beginning of a foggy day, a fake version of the real world cooked up by a mental health professional with a god complex. Ann was looking at him, head cocked and half-turned around in her seat, like she’d been calling his name for a while. 

Ren summoned a casual smile. “Yeah, sorry. What?”

“I just said that today’s when you’re handing over the calling card, right?” Ann chewed at her bottom lip. “Do you think Maruki’s just gonna… show up?”

“He will,” Akechi cut in.

Ren couldn’t help but start a little at the sudden sound of his voice. 

“There’s no reason why he wouldn’t,” Akechi finished, giving Ren a frowning look as he did. 

It didn’t seem as if there was any real anger in it, which made no sense. Ren really wished something– anything– would start to make sense sometime soon. 

Morgana and Ann started carrying on a conversation about what Maruki might do. Ren let their steady stream of words flow over him, feeling listless and unmoored.   

Eventually, Ann glanced at him again and said, tentatively, "Um… are you two… good?" 

It took Ren a moment to realize she was talking about himself and Akechi. He glanced at Akechi, but he was only looking fixedly ahead. 

Ren drew a breath and got ready to say something that wouldn’t sound like a deflection– a joke, a light word, or an observation that would change the subject.

Before he could, though, Kawakami’s voice rang out through the room. “All right, everyone, time to hit the books,” she called over the students' chatter. “So sorry if I’m interrupting your morning. Really.”  

Ann gave him a last glance before turning back around to face the blackboard, and Morgana lowered his head again. 

Ren sighed. In the few days that had passed since that disastrous evening, he and Akechi had hardly spoken. Sumire had noticed, and asked him about it, too– but she hadn’t looked at all like she believed Ren when he’d halfheartedly tried to assure her that she had nothing to do with it.

“Ren.”

Ren looked up. 

Akechi was looking at him, his gaze piercing. “You have the wrong textbook out,” he said coolly, before turning away. “We’re on a different class schedule today.” 

“Right,” Ren muttered, and started to get ready for class.

Akechi was right. That evening, as Ren was standing at Leblanc's counter and pretending that he was able to actually focus on serving customers, his phone started to vibrate, moving slightly on the counter as it did.

It was an incoming call. Ren’s eyes met Akechi’s immediately.

“Well?” Akechi said tightly.

With few other options, Ren picked up.

"Hi there." It was Maruki’s voice– the steady, self-effacing voice of a man Ren had always thought of as kind. "I'm pretty close to the café right now. Would it be okay if I came by? There's something we need to discuss. And... I believe there's something you have to give me."

He arrived at Leblanc mere moments later, entering with a polite greeting and a cold rush of wind. He didn’t ask for coffee, and Ren didn’t offer any. They seated themselves on opposite sides of a table close to the door. 

Akechi mirrored Ren’s movements, sliding into the booth next to him. He was silent and watchful, a presence that was still solid and warm by Ren’s side, despite all that he was, despite all that had happened. 

Maruki broke the ice first. “How’s Yoshizawa?” he asked, delicately folding his hands on the table. “I’ve been wondering about her condition.”

“She’s doing good,” Ren answered. “Doing better than she has in a while, actually.”

“Really?” Maruki looked surprised. “I’m glad.” He considered them, and said, after a moment, “You two seem closer, too.” 

“Hardly a surprise,” Akechi muttered, “since your little spell hasn’t worn off.” 

“Right.” Maruki smiled. It only lasted for a moment before it faded– a fallen snowflake dissolving on the pavement. “Well,” he said. “I suppose we should get down to business, huh?”

Ren nodded. He willed himself to stay perfectly still, feeling that any movement from him would betray some kind of weakness. He couldn’t afford to look uncomfortable or uncertain, not now. 

“Is fighting really the only way we can resolve our… dispute?” Maruki said softly.

“We can’t accept this reality,” Ren answered. For the first time, he said it without having to feign any assurance. Having Akechi constantly lecture him about the pitfalls of Maruki’s plan had apparently done the trick.

“I understand your conviction,” Maruki said. “And even if we don’t agree, I’m impressed that you’re sticking to what you believe in so strongly. But I want to make sure that you’ve really thought this through. If you choose to remain in this world I've created, you and your friends won't have to suffer. You won't feel pain, and you won't lose anyone again."

He was earnest. He was always earnest– that was part of what made it so hard. There had to be a reason for why he was so sure of himself. “Like you lost someone?” Ren asked. After all that they’d seen in Maruki’s Palace, it was hard not to.

Maruki's smile was pained, but he looked like he'd expected the question. “Yes, in a sense. I guess you saw what happened. Rumi’s the one who actually suffered a terrible loss. Now, she doesn't remember me… and of course that hurts. But she's not in pain anymore, and that's more important. That's what's best for her."

"It’s not for you to decide what’s best for other people," Akechi said acidly. 

"...I'm not just doing this for Rumi," Maruki said. He raised his head a little, and Ren was struck, suddenly, by the look in his eyes. It was a look of absolute confidence, of total belief– the look of someone who had nothing to hide and who wished to hide nothing, who had power and who knew exactly what wielding it meant. "I believe that I was granted this power for a reason. I want everyone alive to be happy in the world I created. So… are you still totally sure you're willing to fight to get rid of it?"

"It should be clear by now," Akechi answered immediately. "No matter what you say, we're against you.”

They were alike, Ren thought, at least in this moment. Maruki’s easy confidence was reflected in someone who was his total opposite. Akechi’s face, his voice– they carried the same kind of certainty.

It was a certainty Ren was lacking. Having Akechi here was helping, even more than he’d thought it would. 

"Really?" Maruki said softly. "Akechi, you say that, but all of this has a greater significance for you."

Ren frowned. "What are you talking about?" 

Maruki paused for a moment, pursing his lips. “I admit that it wasn’t my intention for an actualization link to form between you two. But as to why it did… I have an idea. You two have a unique relationship. You were meant to oppose each other, but the bond you share isn’t based on hatred, not at all." He looked regretful. "When I found out about what happened to Akechi, in the Palace created by Shido’s distorted desires, I sought to create a world where both of you could have a second chance. It all fell into place, really. I believe the link manifested because of both of your wishes to be closer to each other– to take full advantage of that chance. You both wanted it, from the very bottom of your hearts."

Part of the news wasn't altogether shocking. Ren had resented the way he and Akechi had seemed to meet at exactly the wrong time. He had been curious about him; he'd wanted to get closer. The only really surprising thing was that that desire had apparently been strong enough to form the link, and that it was one Akechi shared just as much. 

But there was an awful possibility brewing at the back of Ren’s mind– an idea insidiously taking root that was begging to be disproved and discounted. "You still haven’t explained what you meant by saying this matters more for Akechi,” he said, fighting to keep his voice calm. He looked to his side, hoping against hope to see Akechi looking skeptical or contemptuous or coolly disaffected. 

But instead he was looking away, as if lost in thought. The expression on his face was almost forlorn.

It was exactly what Ren hadn't wanted to see. He felt his breathing pick up. The first taste of panic hit him– acidic and potent, too powerful to be neatly tucked away to feel later. 

“I wanted to give you an opportunity,” Maruki said softly. “One that you wouldn’t have had in what you call the ‘real’ world. Because…”  

He didn’t continue. For a long moment there was silence between all of them.

Ren was the first to break it. “Yeah, right,” he said. He felt incredulous, and studied the faces of each of his conversation partners in turn. Akechi’s was shuttered; Maruki’s was sympathetic and pitying. “No,” he said, again, raising his voice a little. “That’s… you’re Akechi,” he said, turning to him. “You’re real and in front of me and– Come on!” 

It came out sounding more like a plea than it should've.   

“I didn’t want to tell you like this,” Maruki said. “I didn’t want it to seem like I was holding him hostage. But… if you choose to stay in this new world, you two can just move on with your lives.”

“You should have left my life alone. You had no right,” Akechi said, in a low voice. The forlorn look was gone– the easy arrogance was back in his manner. “Anyway, this hardly matters. It’s not going to have an impact on our decision.”

“You knew,” Ren said slowly, realizing. 

“I couldn’t find any hard evidence,” Akechi muttered, “but I had my suspicions. There was Okumura and Isshiki, after all. And… I had a gap in my memory after fighting with all of you, one that ended with meeting up with you again.”

So that was why Akechi had refused to tell Ren how he’d escaped Shido’s Palace– because he didn’t know.

Because he hadn’t.

“How about you, Amamiya?” Maruki said quietly. “I’m not surprised by what Akechi thinks, but have you changed your mind?”

Ren’s mind went blank. Now was the time to sound decisive, to be a leader. But all the righteous passion he’d brought with him to this meeting had evaporated. He had nothing to say.  

“Actually, I won’t ask you for an answer on the spot,” Maruki said finally. “I should be going.” He stood up. “I’ll be waiting in the Palace tomorrow. If you don’t show up, I’ll take it to mean you’ve reconsidered. In that case… well, this world is your oyster. By then, I’ll have the power to dissolve the link between you two as well.”

"Wait.” Ren found his voice. “You forgot something.” 

Recognition dawned on Maruki’s face when he saw Ren slide the final calling card across the table. “Ah. Of course.” He smiled a small, rueful smile. “Amamiya, you were indispensable to my research– you showed me the way. Please believe me when I say I have no ill will towards you.” He paused. “I’ll be seeing you.”

After he was gone, Ren remained in his seat, staring at the surface of the table. It suddenly seemed important to stay still. The longer he delayed moving or talking, the longer they could remain frozen in this moment, and the more he could put off the inevitable.

“Ren.”

Yet Akechi wouldn’t let him. All Ren wanted to do was shut his eyes to the awful, stark reality of things, just for a moment, and Akechi wouldn’t let him, because Akechi was Akechi and Akechi decided the truth. 

Akechi had gotten up while Ren hadn’t been paying attention. He stood by the table with his arms folded. “I told you already, when all of this began,” he said sharply. “I’m carving my own path for myself.”  

“You knew the whole time,” Ren said. He wanted so badly to feel something, but the initial burst of panic had faded and decayed into a dull shock that left only numbness in its wake. 

“And what would you have had me do?” Akechi snapped. “Let you give up on everything, on the world, because of some foolish idea that you could save me?”

“This isn’t something small,” Ren burst out. He clung to the opportunity to argue like it was a piece of driftwood, and he was stranded in the middle of the ocean. “This is you! ”

“Is it?” Akechi’s voice rose. His features looked drawn tight across his face, making him seem older. “I don’t know if I’m me. You have no way of knowing, either. I’ve been thinking about it for a month– whether I’m myself or just a character living in his storybook world.” He looked pained. “Imagine if I had to question myself like that for the rest of my life. No. If nothing I’ve ever done had any consequences, it would be as if I was never real. Like I never mattered at all.” 

“But that doesn’t make any–”

“Stop,” Akechi told him brusquely. “This isn’t something I’m debating with you! I can’t live in a cage under someone else’s control. Not anymore. This is what’s best for me.” 

And just like that, Ren’s will to argue dissipated. All he could do now was mourn the death of a world where he and Akechi could have had a fresh start. He could feel a million possibilities fading, a million stars burning out.   

“I want to hear you say it,” Akechi said lowly. “Tell me, out loud, what you intend to do.”

Ren was at a terminal disadvantage. Akechi was prepared for the end, and Ren was still battered by the revelation, still smarting from the wound. There was no time left to delay and no opportunity for a rematch.  

Ren forced out the words. “We’re stopping Maruki.” He closed his eyes and took a breath that he desperately hoped would dissipate the burning pinpricks behind the lids. That was it. No more. He wasn’t going to be able to say it again. Over and over he’d had to repeat the words that doomed his friends to a life of perpetual struggle, perpetual healing, and just when he’d finally felt confident–  

“Why does it have to be me?” Ren whispered. Then he stopped talking, lest his voice finally break.

After a moment, he felt a hand take firm hold of his arm. He opened his eyes and saw Akechi looking at him with sudden fire in his gaze. 

For a moment Ren didn’t understand. Then his breath caught as a rush of feeling hit him. He could sense the sudden change that was happening inside Akechi’s heart. 

As Akechi’s eyes fluttered shut, Ren heard sounds– not from his surroundings, but from somewhere else, somewhere deeper. He understood immediately what they were. The twin voices of righteous Robin Hood and vicious Loki were joining into one. Ren was aware of the exact moment a new name stamped itself on Akechi’s soul, right before it passed through Akechi’s lips. 

“Hereward,” Akechi said, and he opened his eyes. A fierce smile was on his face, a wicked look of mischief and power– the look of someone free and alive. 

A new Persona. "It really is you," Ren said.

"It certainly feels that way," Akechi said. His smile slowly faded. “Here,” he said quietly, pulling at Ren's arm. “You stubborn idiot. Come with me.” 

Ren let himself be guided out of the booth, across the cafe, and up the attic stairs. It was the last time he would make this ascent with Akechi, he realized, and that thought alone was enough to make him stop in his tracks– but Akechi kept pulling, and eventually Ren kept walking, upwards and onwards towards the zenith of his fate.

Upstairs it seemed ridiculous to return to routine, but still they went through the rote motions of undressing and washing up, taking turns, waiting for each other like they had for the past month. 

Afterwards, Ren sat down on the bed. After a moment, Akechi sat next to him.

Minutes passed without either of them speaking. The noise of Yongen-Jaya maintained a steady level outside: cats meowing, people calling to each other, wind blowing steadily. For the first time that he could remember, Ren wished it was louder. 

Finally, Ren said, “Is this why you were angry when I said I liked you?”

“Of course you were going to bring that up," Akechi murmured. "Sometimes, you actually can be predictable." He looked at Ren. “It shouldn’t matter to you.”

“Yeah, probably shouldn’t,” Ren said roughly. “But it does.”

“You're fond of putting me on the spot, aren’t you?" Akechi exhaled. "I don’t know what to say.”

“Say anything.” 

Akechi was silent for a long moment, until, finally, he spoke. “Merely, thou art death’s fool," he recited. "For him thou labor’st by thy flight to shun, and yet runn’st toward him still.” 

"I was thinking in your own words, maybe," Ren muttered, "but that's fine, too, I guess."

Akechi stared forwards, into space. “I don't have a future. That means we don't have one, either. And I've accepted that. I’m ready.”  

"I’m not.” Ren forced the words out, one at a time. “Ready. To lose you. Again.”

Akechi made a soft, sigh-like sound. "Your focus is what you really can’t afford to lose, especially at this moment. Ren." Akechi turned around so that they were looking directly at each other. His face was only inches away. "Listen to me." There it was– that old bossy tone, that proud look. "You won't forget my face."

Ren looked at him, confused, for a second. "No. But that doesn't mean–" 

"You won't forget my voice," Akechi continued, sounding matter-of-fact. Then he took Ren's hand– grabbed it, more like. Akechi had soft palms and calloused fingers, somehow; what good were the gloves? "You'll remember how this felt," he said, full of conviction. “Won’t you?"

“Look, this–” Ren tried. 

Akechi cut him off again. “Just answer me.”

“...Yeah," Ren said quietly. "I will.”  

"Good. You won’t forget this, either." Then Akechi leaned in, and just like that, the last few inches of distance between them disappeared.

Ren had missed this. A deeper part of him, the part governed by the actualization link, had missed it even more. From the fierce way Akechi was kissing him, Ren knew he hadn’t been the only one. The amount of time they proceeded to spend attached to each other was a pretty good clue, too.

They spent a while like that, remembering what it felt like to touch each other, before settling quietly into bed, pulling the covers over themselves for comfort. It was cold in the attic in the winter, even with the space heater going. Akechi stared at the ceiling and rubbed the corner of the blanket between his fingers, over and over. Ren watched the light of the moon settle across his face. 

“Pretty anticlimactic, spending the night this way,” Ren said quietly.

“Since it’s my last one,” Akechi said calmly. “You can say it.” When he turned his head to look at Ren, a few strands of hair fell loosely across his face. “Somehow, I don’t mind a little anticlimax tonight. I assume tomorrow will be dramatic enough.” 

Ren really did feel like an idiot, remembering how hopeful he’d been. He had thought about visiting Akechi, after all of this was over– had imagined picking out books to send him, and being there for him in some way, somehow, when he needed to get back on his feet. 

It was all naiveté, of course. He shouldn't have forgotten: when it came to Akechi, things were always more complicated. 

Akechi shifted closer to him. "You won't forget so easily." His voice was a challenge, even in a whisper. "Will you?"

"No," Ren said. "No." Repeating it to himself brought a kind of relief. Realizing that made him understand, suddenly, what Akechi was trying to do. "You… don't have to comfort me.” 

Akechi scoffed slightly. "My concern isn't with your level of comfort, you know. I'm just making a selfish wish. I want to be remembered. As I was.” His voice lowered. “I think it’s quite fitting as a last request. And you're… probably the best person to fulfill it.” 

Remember Akechi– of course he would. But still- "You should have told me," Ren said. 

Akechi huffed; it might have been the beginning of a laugh. "What, so we could have spent more time together? No. You would have thrown yourself into trying to find a miracle. Or you would have lost your will to fight. He's a clever one, huh? Saving his trump card for the very end."

After a moment, Ren said, "Obviously I'll remember you. It'll be hard to forget." 

Akechi smiled. It was one of his small, understated ones, the ones Ren liked the most. “Such a request wasn’t part of our deal, but I suspected you’d grant it anyway. Yes, when you’re…” He trailed off. When he spoke again, his voice sounded rougher. “When you’re old and turning gray, if you somehow avoid getting killed in some stupid, reckless way beforehand, I’m sure you’ll remember me still. You’re just that sentimental.”  

Ren tried for a smile, but he could feel it waver at the edges. He was losing his touch. He felt a lump in his throat well up and knew that Akechi could sense it– could sense Ren's weakness– by the short, annoyed huff of breath he heard from him. 

“Sorry,” Ren said. He really was crying, now, mostly silently, letting tears fall down his face without wiping them away.

Responding without words, Akechi reached up to touch Ren’s face, brushing some of his hair aside before moving to stroke Ren's cheek lightly with his thumb. 

When he lowered his hand, Ren huddled nearer to him, laying his head on Akechi's chest. After a moment, he felt Akechi cautiously extending his arm to pull Ren closer.

“Hey. Thanks,” Akechi murmured. “For… I’m glad I got to see Mount Fuji.” 

Ren closed his eyes and breathed in Akechi’s scent– clean laundry, fresh coffee, wild violet and sandalwood from his shampoo. “Yeah,” he whispered. "Me too." 

"Now go to sleep." Akechi's voice was harsh in the way that had become strangely comforting to Ren over the last month. "You need your strength for tomorrow, don’t you? By now you should know what it means to be a leader."

Ren thought he would have a harder time falling asleep. It was his last moment alone with Akechi, and he willed it to stretch on and on, but his body wasted little time before reminding him just how exhausted he was. 

When he finally drifted off, he thought he could feel Akechi's hands in his hair. 

Chapter Text

"Know this one?"

Ren shifted his attention to the slow, sad song playing quietly in the jazz club. There was no live performance today, so instead they were listening to a recording of a female singer crooning English words. Ren couldn't quite understand what they were, but they had a mournful quality. It wasn't a song he'd heard before, and he said as much to Akechi.

"Really?” Akechi said smilingly, as if he found Ren’s ignorance amusing. It was a little grating, probably because Ren was used to comfortably wielding the power of a home-field advantage at Leblanc. The jazz club, in contrast, was Akechi’s spot, a part of his world that he’d allowed Ren into. Ren could admit to himself– although grudgingly– that the smug familiarity Akechi displayed here probably wasn’t entirely unlike the kind Ren showed him at the café.   

Still annoying, though. “Go ahead," Ren said. 

"Hm?"

Ren made a loose gesture with the hand that wasn’t holding his mocktail. "I know you like explaining things to me. So…?"

Akechi gave him one of his tight-lipped little smiles that said if I wasn't putting on an act, I wouldn’t let you get away with that. "All right, then.” He folded his hands on the table. “This isn't jazz. It's a famous singer's take on an American song that was popular during the second World War. Translated, it goes…” He paused. “ I'll be seeing you, in all the old familiar places … in every lovely summer’s day, in everything that’s light and gay. Something like that. A sad ode to a longed-for old lover.” 

"Huh," Ren said. "Pretty."

"It is, isn't it?" Akechi replied. “Everyone can relate to missing someone. The sentiment is expressed beautifully by the singer.”  

“Do you like it?”

“Hm?”

“Do you like the song?” Ren repeated. 

For a second Akechi still looked like he didn’t understand the question. Then he said, in a mild-mannered voice, “Well, yes. It is pretty, like you said, and the meaning’s nice. I’m sure this song has touched many over the years. Imagine all those wives waiting at home for their husbands fighting in armies overseas.” He smiled. “When I think of how some of those people must have felt, it makes me think my own burdens aren’t very heavy at all.” 

"Huh," Ren said. He took a sip of his drink. Akechi might have unwittingly showed his hand too early, but Ren had to give him credit. He really was a good liar. 

A long while later, at the entrance of Maruki's Palace, Ren looked at the team– his team, standing before him, waiting for him to make a call. 

"This is it,” he said. He had never been much for speeches, and today was no different. “No going back, no more time to prep. Are we ready?"

For a moment there was an expectant silence. Then Futaba said, "As we'll ever be,” forced lightness straining her voice. 

Ren glanced to his side. "Crow? Violet?" 

"Let's get moving already," Akechi said.

Sumire just nodded.

Ren nodded back before turning around with a swish of his tailcoat. His shoes clicked against the floor, and the footsteps of his teammates sounded quickly afterwards as they followed him. 

He liked being Joker, especially at times like these. With a mask on, he felt as if there was no way for anyone to see his uncertainty– and if it was invisible, it was like it wasn’t there at all. 

Soon enough they were back in Eden, gazing up again at the tallest tree, the confounding Treasure. Something about it was starting to set Ren’s teeth on edge.  

“I see you made it.” Maruki’s amplified voice suddenly rang out through the garden. “Come on up– I’ll meet you at the center of paradise.” 

A golden light flashed, and when it faded, they saw that it had altered the tree. Now, a large staircase that looked like it had been woven from light wound around it, beckoning them upwards in the same way Maruki’s words had. 

“What a laughable announcement,” Akechi said, but he looked far from amused. “Anyway. It’s like he laid out a red carpet, isn’t it? How gracious.”

“Let’s go,” Ann said firmly.  

The journey up the stairs took longer than Ren had expected. 

“This is a little anticlimactic,” Makoto muttered as they all hurried upwards.

“It’s just getting me more pumped!” Ryuji said. “We’ve come this far. No way we’re going down now– right, Joker?”  

“Right.”

“Watch your step!” Ann cried. “Sorry. Oracle almost tripped.”

“N-No, I didn’t!” 

“Um, yeah, you did.” 

“Can we cut the chattering?” Akechi said tightly. “Look, we’re almost there.”

“He’s right,” Sumire said. “I can see the end!” 

Their footsteps slowed as they emerged at the top of the platform a moment later. Against an ominous backdrop of winding tendrils, Dr. Maruki was waiting for them in his white coat. 

“Nice to see you,” he said. His face held a rueful expression. “It looks like I have your answer.”

“I’m sorry,” Ren said quietly. 

“Don’t apologize,” Maruki returned. “You’re fighting to see through something important– something you feel you can’t allow to fail. I’d say that’s admirable.” He looked squarely at them. “Let’s review the terms. If you win, my heart will be changed. And if I win, my reality becomes the true reality.”

The air was tense with expectation. Maruki swept his eyes over the team, pausing to gaze at each of them in turn. 

Ren remembered all the hours he’d spent in that little office. He’d been wary at first, and hadn’t bothered to hide it. He’d responded to Maruki’s questions with sarcasm, with remarks that made his distaste clear… but even then, Maruki had been patient. Slowly but surely, he’d won Ren’s trust. The office had started to feel safe, in the way few other places had since Ren had gotten to Tokyo. 

Remembering all of that, a sharp sense of sadness overtook Ren, and then the sting of betrayal, again. 

“I’m no longer holding back,” Maruki declared. His gaze had intensified. “No matter what happens to me in the end, I want to fix the world. That’s my own form of rebellion!”

Another flash of light. For a moment, Ren almost thought it was an Awakening. But it was over too quickly, and after it, Maruki looked– 

“His outfit changed!” Morgana exclaimed.

Akechi sighed. “Of course it did.” 

Without missing a beat, Maruki said, with quiet gravity, “Persona.” 

Reality seemed to break for a moment as the air around Maruki shifted and warped. And then, an intimidating Persona was towering above them. A second ago it hadn't been there, and now it was– or maybe it had always been here, had been waiting for them since the beginning of time– Ren’s mind struggled to process the sight of something so cold and robotic, writhing and alive, sorrowful and blissfully happy, all at once–  

“It’s time, Azathoth,” Maruki said, looking almost unrecognizable in his new headgear, and somehow radiating an even stronger aura of sad nobility. “This is our final battle.” 

Sumire looked stunned. “Dr. Maruki…” 

“Get ahold of yourself! He has some nerve, putting on the self-sacrificial act even now,” Akechi hissed. “Let’s finish this!” 

Ren came back to himself, his grip around his knife tightening, just as the battle began. 

The team quickly went on the offensive, engaging in a flurry of blows, passing batons and charging up until they’d done a good bit of damage. 

After a while of that, Maruki cried out as one particularly tough Nuclear attack from Makoto hit him hard. He collected himself and looked at them. “Not bad.” His gaze sharpened. “But we’re just getting started.” 

Azathoth seemed to recover– and then some. Suddenly he loomed largely before them, like they’d never weakened him at all.

Futaba’s desperate voice crackled in Ren’s ear. “Why’s it getting stronger?! Ugh… just watch out!”

During the next phase of the fight, resisting Azathoth’s brutal onslaught of attacks was difficult enough without making their own offensive moves. Ren struggled to hold his ground while barking commands at his team and keeping up his energy. Maruki was right– things were just beginning; he couldn’t afford to get tired now. It felt as if every blow Akechi didn’t manage to dodge was hitting Ren, too, but he just grit his teeth and ignored the pain. If anything, knowing Akechi was hurting just filled him with the determination to finish this faster. 

They did finish it, eventually. When Maruki looked to be at his weakest, Ren dealt the final blow, and Azathoth flickered, as if phasing out of reality. Then he fell to the ground– a toppled statue of a god abandoned by his worshippers.  

“Azathoth,” Maruki whispered. With difficulty, he made his way over to the Persona and knelt over him, breathing hard. “Is this it?” 

Something shimmered into existence in front of the team.

“The Treasure,” Haru said, wonder in her voice. “But what is it?”

“A torch,” Akechi said. “It’s a light to guide people. It shows you how he sees himself– as a guide for the whole world.” He glanced at Ren. “We’re changing his heart, aren’t we? Go on and take it.”

Ren stepped forward and took the torch. He could feel the warm, comforting heat it gave off through his glove.

“Wait,” Futaba cried. “Ren, watch out!”

Her warning came just in time– suddenly the ground was collapsing beneath them. Ren threw himself out of the way.

“We have to go!” Morgana yelled as everything began to crumble.

One harrowing Monabus ride and several close calls later, they were facing a different foe. Maruki wasn’t done yet. It made Ren’s hair stand on end to even look at Adam Kadmon, but somehow, exhausted as they were, they managed to defeat the new Persona, too.

Even then, Maruki refused to give up. There was nothing they could do but watch as he allowed his Persona to absorb him before Adam Kadmon’s gigantic fist slammed down on the ground, sending the team reeling. 

They withstood the attack, but only barely. Ryuji emphatically voiced a series of expletives as they collected themselves. Ren stared up at the gigantic armored figure of the Persona and felt his mind go blank. 

"Hey!" A voice snapped him out of his reverie. Akechi had grabbed his arm. “Could you focus on–” He stopped when Ren raised his head and he saw his face. “Hey…”

“I don’t know how I’m going to do this,” Ren said. He wasn’t scared, not really, not even hopeless– he just felt lost: out of straws to grasp, out of solutions to improvise. 

“Stupid,” Akechi said tightly. He took Ren’s hand. “We’re going to do this.” 

It made Ren smile; he couldn't help it. "Hey," he said. "Being stuck with you wasn't really that bad."

A puzzled expression overcame Akechi’s features for just a moment before he smiled, too, just barely, with a curve of his lips that anyone else might have found imperceptible. “Speak for yourself,” he said quietly. 

Maybe he was still smarting from the wound Maruki and Akechi had inflicted last night, or maybe it was just that looking oblivion in the eye was putting things in perspective, but Ren felt suddenly convinced that he'd put up with years more of the actualization link pulling them together if it meant Akechi got to keep his life. 

Suddenly, Adam Kadmon bellowed a wordless battle cry. It felt like it was heralding something deeply important. Akechi's eyes met Ren's, holding a look of recognition.

And then, the world faded away.

How many days and nights had it been since Ren had fought this battle? Sometimes it seemed almost like a dream, and sometimes it was like he had always been here– but if that were true, why was he mourning, like he'd lost something that he could never again regain?

He had always been a warrior proud to fight. But this time when victory came– if it came– there would be no glory in it. All these days and nights the battle had raged between him and his foe, and every night each shed their own tears by their own fire. It was the proper honor to pay to a blood-brother, such a one who had shared everything with him: the exaltation of victory, the bitterness of defeat, a companion’s bed…  

Time shifted and moved like an inconsequential afterthought, and then Ren was on his knees. His iron armor and his helmet had once served him well. Now they only encumbered him, heavy instruments of immobility that chained him to the solid ground.

He looked up, into the face of his opponent, a face twisted with pain and grief. In his hand he held the weapon that had run Ren through: Gae Bolg, the dreaded spear. 

Yes, Ren realized. Through the sorrow, inside he felt something like peace. His beloved was Cu Chulainn, and today Ren would die at his hand.  

A thunderous voice rang out, suddenly– a voice that seemed simultaneously to come from within him and from far away– centuries away. “At one the survivor and the vanquished,” it said, sounding deeply mournful. “At once the redeemer and the damned. How will you meet the challenge before you?” 

The words came to Ren easily. “I’ll do whatever it takes.” 

“Yes,” said the grave voice. “Your answers are the same. One vow is shared by two. Call upon the strength of thy connection. Take my power. Speak my name.” 

The voice faded away, and slowly Ren returned to himself. He raised his head. 

“I will be light that guides mankind!” Adam Kadmon roared.

"Yeah, yeah," Akechi said. There was a fierce glow in his eyes. "It's too bad for you that I love to fight. I'm taking you down." He turned. "Ren."

"Yeah," Ren said. He could think clearly now. Something had changed. "Yeah, I'm ready."

“No way,” Morgana whispered, his voice small. “No way…”    

“What is it?” Futaba yelled. “Morgana! What’s happening?”

Morgana seemed as if he barely heard her. “Two Persona-users– no, two Wild Cards– with a strong bond, augmented by a power that warps reality… an emotional link…” His eyes were wide. "I guess in theory it's possible, but…"   

Akechi and Ren turned to look at each other.

There was a feral grin on Akechi’s face. Pronouncing each syllable deliberately, he said, "I am thou."

"Thou art I," Ren returned. He faced forwards, knowing which name to call. "Ferdiad!" 

Akechi laughed wildly. "Come!"

A burst of light flashed around Ren and Akechi, blinding them for a single moment before it faded. 

A new Persona loomed above them, seated on a giant horse. His head, covered by a crested helmet, was bowed, and he had flowing hair and thick, rough skin that looked almost scaly. His black chain-mail armor gave him the look of a mourner, but even then, he radiated the aura of a proud warrior, with a spear in his hand and a sword hanging from his belt. The horse whinnied, an intimidating sound that was ghostly and distorted. 

Ren felt himself smiling. An intoxicating surge of power flooded his whole being, making him feel reborn. 

“I can’t believe it,” Morgana murmured. “They awakened the same Persona. The bond must have done it. It’s a single one, shared by the two of them.” 

"Holy fuck," Ryuji whispered. 

"What does that mean for the fight?" Makoto said sharply. "Morgana!"

“Right now, it’s like Crow and Joker have the same soul," Morgana said nervously. "If one of them... falls here, then the other might just–" 

Ren cut him off. “Won’t happen."

“Definitely not," Akechi said. "Let's finish this."

“Guys!” It was Futaba's voice. “His weak point is his head– we can’t hurt it normally, but at the moment he attacks, he concentrates all his power in his fist. Effectively, his head's defenseless!"

As if on cue, Adam Kadmon geared up to strike again. 

“Joker! Crow!” Futaba yelled. “Target his head as he strikes! The rest of you, defend!” 

Before Ren could respond, Adam Kadmon slammed down his fist again. It seemed to defy all logic that something so large could move so fast. 

This time, Ren was better prepared– he’d already leapt out of the way. But his teammates had prevented the attack from connecting, using all of their power to guard.

“C’mon, Joker!” shouted Ann. The rest of the Thieves called out to him with the same encouragement. 

Ren knew what to do. He could feel Ferdiad's sorrow, but just as clearly, he felt his resolve. 

"Ferdiad–" Akechi shouted.

"–Last Stand!" finished Ren. 

Ferdiad lifted his helmeted head. His horse whinnied again and reared up on its back legs before charging forwards, picking up more and more speed until it leapt into the air. At the same time, Ferdiad lifted his spear and threw it in a powerful arc. 

The weapon made contact, hitting the center of Adam Kadmon’s forehead. The effect was immediate. With a last roar, the Persona fell, and Maruki fell with him.

When the dust cleared, Maruki was kneeling in front of them, his eyes blank. “Why…” 

A huge, ominous cracking noise sounded suddenly from all around them. 

“The Palace is collapsing!” Haru shouted.

“Dr. Maruki!” Sumire yelled. 

The next few moments were a breathless fight to survive, but eventually Ren found himself hanging by a thread from the Monacapter. 

Just as he began to congratulate himself on a stylish escape, someone shouted, “Wait!” 

It was Makoto. “If Ren’s down there,” she yelled, “and Akechi’s in here–”

Despite the chaos, everyone was speechless for a moment. 

Ren suddenly understood. As Maruki’s power was fading, the link was, too. He was about to say something when suddenly, the helicopter’s upward climb was abruptly halted by one last tentacle.

As his teammates panicked and started shouting over each other, Ren turned to look down at the ground.

It took him a moment, but he saw Maruki, standing in the middle of the rubble of his dream, meeting Ren’s eyes with a defiant stare. 

They were eyes that held an invitation. Ren knew what he had to do. He looked up and saw Akechi looking down at him. He couldn’t hear him– there was too much noise now, and he was too far away, but Ren could read his lips and the single word they imparted– go!

So he let go of the rope and let himself fall, plummeting down to meet Maruki for what might really be the final time. 

It felt odd to wake up in the Velvet Room again. At least this time he wasn’t wearing the prison uniform. He’d fought Maruki again, with his fists… but he was here, and that meant it was finally over. 

He came out to speak to Igor and Lavenza. As usual, one was smiling, the other solemn. 

“Thank you for ushering reality back to where it was supposed to be,” Lavenza told him, looking prim and austere. “You have reaffirmed our reason for existence.”

“What happens now?” Ren asked. 

“The past will be rewritten,” Lavenza replied. “Reality will now be shaped by the events that should have happened.”

“What about Akechi?” 

A sad look fell on Lavenza’s features. “Everything will return to how it should be. There are no exceptions.” 

“No,” Ren said lowly. “We never even…” 

They had never even said goodbye. How had it happened so fast– how could it be that one moment he was looking in Akechi’s eyes, and the next, he was gone?  

Ren swallowed hard. “During that fight, me and Akechi had the same Persona.”

“Yes. That was an exceptional event.” Lavenza hesitated. “While the actualization link was artificial, it facilitated a close, genuine bond between you and Goro Akechi that resulted in the awakening of a new Persona. For a few minutes, you and he shared one soul.”

“What does that…” Ren struggled to keep his voice level. “What does that mean?”  

“This… has never happened before,” Lavenza said softly. “We have no way of knowing what the consequences will be… or, more accurately, what they would have been, if Akechi had not perished. But there is no longer any danger to you.” 

Igor spoke up. “You’ve suffered greatly. But now your work is done. Are you ready to return to the true reality?”

Ren looked up at the ceiling. “Can I stay here? For just a little longer?”

Lavenza frowned. “That’s–”

Igor stopped her. “You may,” he said. “Rest. You need a calm mind to face the world.”

“Thanks,” Ren said quietly. His eyelids suddenly felt heavy. A wave of drowsiness hit him. He hadn’t realized how tired he was.

“Sleep.” Igor’s voice sounded far away. “When you wake, you might have regrets. But never forget that your decision restored the world to its rightful state. Thank you, Ren Amamiya.” 

Somehow, somewhere, Ren was staring down at a plate of mushy-looking food.

No, that couldn't be right. He paused to reassess, glancing around at his surroundings. Wherever he was looked like his old cram school, back home– gray walls and long tables. But people were eating here. A cafeteria? 

Who were they? Boys, none of whom he recognized, were standing or sitting or talking amongst themselves, some jovial, some sullen and still. They all wore the same clothes: what looked like jumpsuits, colored dark blue. Ren was sitting, too, and when he looked down he saw he was dressed identically. He reached up unconsciously to touch his head. It felt like the whole world had changed in the microsecond between eye-blinks. 

Someone tapped his shoulder.

Ren spun around, almost falling over in his haste. "Akechi?" he said automatically. 

But it wasn't Akechi. It was a tall guy with a skeptical look on his face. "My name's Tachibana, new guy,” he said. “You better remember it next time. Are you gonna eat that?" 

It took Ren a second to process that he was looking at the piece of bread on Ren's plate. "Uh. No." 

"Cool. Thanks." The tall guy leaned over and swiped it off Ren's tray.  

Ren watched him start to walk away, deeply confused. "Wait," he said, when the boy's back was turned. 

The boy named Tachibana stopped, sighed, and turned around. "What?"

"What day is it? I mean, what's the– what's the date?"

Tachibana looked suspicious. "Are you screwing with me or something? It's February 3rd. Any more questions?"

Yes. "I guess not."

The boy made a grunt of acknowledgement and left. Ren looked at his plate again. He was starting to remember what had happened, and what he’d been told in the Velvet Room. He had shifted seamlessly into the true reality, and he was where he was supposed to be. 

A rush of feedback sounded suddenly through the loudspeakers that Ren now saw were installed around the room. “The lunch period is now over,” said an amplified voice. “Proceed to your afternoon classes.” 

There was a rumble and swell of noise as the others got to their feet and grabbed their trays, chatting and laughing as they did.

Ren stood up, too, joining the crowd of boys headed in the same general direction. He hoped he could figure out what he was supposed to be doing. He didn't want to think about Akechi, or any of the other things he couldn’t change. Good thing there were plenty of other things to occupy his mind, like learning the ins and outs of juvenile detention.

Akechi probably wouldn’t have liked it here, anyway. Blue wasn’t his color. 

He wasn't at the facility for long, but it felt like forever. Ren hated the long stretches of boredom, the barely-veiled disdain of the counselors and teachers, and the complete absence of freedom. It wasn't as bad as being kicked around by the cops after being arrested outside Sae's Palace, not nearly, but it was more than enough to wear on him. 

He had never been more grateful to anyone than he was to his friends for trusting him, fighting for him, saving him from spending any more time than he had to in that place. Ren never wanted to feel so powerless again. 

After his release, a month passed in a blurry, strangely banal haze. It was all over, they’d stolen Maruki’s Treasure, but it was hard to get used to the link being severed. He still caught himself looking around for Akechi. The bed in the attic seemed too large. 

Ren felt a little like he was missing a limb. It was strange to be back in the right place and still feel so wrong. 

The thought of going home made him miserable for more than one reason, even though Morgana deciding to go with him eased the pain a little. He hadn't told anyone about it, but part of him was still holding out hope that Maruki had been wrong, that Akechi had been, too, that somehow, Akechi was still… 

Leaving Tokyo would be like leaving that last bit of hope behind to die. 

The day before he was set to leave came too quickly. He'd spent it saying goodbye to his friends, and at night he had a lively dinner with Futaba and Sojiro. Their conversation continued even after the food was finished, and might have lasted even longer if Sojiro hadn't finally announced that it was time for bed.

“No fair!” Futaba cried. “It’s his last night! And Mona’s, too!”

“Yeah, so he needs to get some rest. As do you. You’ll see him before he leaves tomorrow.” Sojiro stood up. “Come on, now, say goodnight.”

“Bleh! Fine.” She got up, reluctantly, and hesitated before giving Ren a quick hug. "I'm gonna miss you guys."

"Heh, of course you will," Morgana said, but Ren could hear the slight tremble in his voice.

When they left Ren put himself to work cleaning up, which always helped to clear his mind– and now, as Morgana napped in a corner, it distracted him from how empty and silent the café was.

Just as he was finishing up, there was a knock on the door. Ren frowned, wondering who it could be. Maybe Futaba had forgotten something. 

He walked over and opened the door, but the person at the entrance wasn’t who he’d expected. Sumire was there, smiling sheepishly. “Hi, Senpai.”

“Hi,” Ren said, confused, moving aside so she could come in. “It’s late.”

“Yes. Sorry. I wanted to get out of the house, and I just… ended up here. I'm not bothering you, am I?"

"No, you're fine. I was just about to start getting ready for tomorrow.”

"Oh– well, don't let me stop you. Is there anything I can help with?”

“You'd be helping by keeping me company," Ren told her. "Packing's not very entertaining."

Sumire smiled. "I'd be happy to."

They went up to the attic. Sumire sat on the futon with her hands folded on her knees. Meanwhile, Ren put clothes into his suitcase on the floor. When he got to folding his underwear, she looked away quickly. Ren smiled to himself.

They shared a companionable silence for a few moments, listening to noises from the street outside, before Sumire said, “Senpai. I was thinking about Akechi.”

Ren couldn't say he hadn't suspected that this was coming. Part of him, the wounded part, almost wanted to snap at her, to refuse to talk about it, but he made himself say, “Yeah, I know.”

“He’s just gone,” Sumire said, her voice low. “Just like that. I can’t…”

Ren couldn’t think of how to respond. He was afraid of what he might say if he let himself speak. 

“I realized,” Sumire said, after a while, “that nobody else really talked to him like we did."

Ren stared down at a faded sweatshirt he realized he was clutching tightly in his lap. "Yeah," he said quietly. "You're right about that."

"I guess that's why they don't understand when I say I miss him. I can see them try– but it's not the same." Sumire seemed to shrink a little, folding herself into a small parcel on the futon. 

Ren looked at her and remembered how often Akechi had sat in the same place. "I think I might have been in love with him," he said.

He regretted it as soon as he said it, if only because Sumire's eyes immediately filled with tears. "Oh, Senpai," she said, and the next thing Ren knew, she was across the room and had wrapped her arms around him. 

Taken aback, Ren couldn't stop the small oof of surprise that escaped him, but Sumire wasn't letting go. Finally, he hugged back, cautiously, when he heard her sobbing quietly. He closed his eyes and hoped that eventually he'd be able to cry, too. 

Ren never thought he’d say it, but he was starting to miss having a boring life. He couldn’t even get his friends to drop him off at the train station without a car chase and a run-in with a counselor-turned-taxi-driver he knew particularly well. 

In contrast to the drive he was pretty sure the others were having, his trip with Maruki was quiet and uneventful. After a few traffic lights, Maruki finally said, “How have you been?”

Ren glanced out the window. “If I tell you, will I regret it?”  

“Little chance of that,” Maruki said mildly. “The Metaverse is gone.”

“What about everything you were working on?”

“I started over,” Maruki said. His eyes met Ren’s in the rear-view mirror. “You always can, you know. You should remember that.” He paused. “I know how it feels to lose someone you love.”

Ren didn’t reply. They drove on in silence, until eventually, he asked, “Does it ever stop hurting?”

“No,” Maruki said, without hesitation. “But it gets a little easier to bear the pain.” 

He slowed down and pulled the car over to the curb. They were at the train station. 

As Ren stepped out of the car, Maruki said, “Maybe I’ll see you again the next time you’re here. Take care, won’t you?”

“Yeah,” Ren said. “You too.” 

He watched Maruki drive away and turned to enter the station, bracing himself to say goodbye to Tokyo and the memories of everything he’d gained and lost in the city. But before he could, he stopped in his tracks.

“Ren?” When he didn’t move for a moment, Morgana poked his head out of his bag. “What’s wrong?”  

Ren didn't reply right away. He felt like he’d hit a wall. A familiar sensation was overcoming him, so suddenly powerful that it almost left him breathless. He was just barely conscious of his jaw going slack– he must have looked like a gaping fish. 

He remembered what had happened the day before, when he’d stopped by the jazz club. The owner had greeted him and listened with interest to his question. 

“Oh, that song? Yeah, that's an old pop standard,” he’d said. “It's called 'I'll Be Seeing You.’ Recorded in 1944, I think. Why do you ask?”  

“Ren,” Morgana said timidly, bringing him back to the present. “Are you okay? What Maruki said… Are you thinking about Akechi?”  

"Akechi's not dead," said Ren.

Morgana yowled in surprise. “Huh?!”

His glove was still in Ren's pocket. "He's way too stubborn for that to be true,” Ren said calmly. “And I'm going to find him again. I know I am."

"Don't tell me," Morgana said in disbelief. "Can you… sense it? Is there still a connection between you two?" 

Ren knew this feeling, this energy that had been palpable in the air as soon as he’d gotten here. Something about it felt new, a little different from being under the spell of the actualization link, but there was nothing else it could be, no other person’s essence but Akechi’s. He nodded. 

"What does it feel like?" Morgana whispered.

Ren smiled slightly when he thought of the right words. 

"Like gravity's working again,” he said.