Archive of Our Own

February 3rd, 20XX

It’s the third now, Akira realizes. He hardly remembers falling asleep, yet now he’s in his apron and standing behind Leblanc’s counter. Leblanc is full of the Phantom Thieves his friends. 

“What’s wrong?” Sojiro asks with a laugh. He eyes Akira and there’s some worry there. “You seem out of it.”

Akira can’t help glancing around. Things just feel off and he can’t tell why. 

>Why’s everyone here?

>What’s going on here?

>Where’s Maruki?

“Where’s Maruki?” he rubs at his neck, feeling a confusion set over him. Akira’s mind is filled with a fog—pleasant or not, it’s there.

Sojiro lifts an eyebrow. “Who?” Akira thinks to reply, but Sojiro’s chuckling to himself and letting out a small fond scoff. “C’mon—wake up, Mister Party Planner.” He gestures to the others and goes on, “This whole get-together was your idea…”

Was it? Akira can’t … remember. The fog drifts to a certain area, locking away memories of the past few hours. He thinks back, but all he can think of is Akechi’s face, disappointed and so so angry. He’d claimed their deal was off, yet … Akira reaches into his pocket, and sure enough, the glove sat there, snug. 

“Y’know, something hit me a while back—we’re the same age.” Futaba is sat at the bar beside Sumire Kasumi, legs pressed to her chest and her arms around them. “You don’t have to be so polite to me.”

Sumire, her name is Sumire Kasumi’s eyes widen in shock. Her mitten-covered hands sit delicately in her lap. “Oh! You’re right..” she gives a small laugh. “But Futaba-senpai, I still think of you that way.”

Futaba leans her face into her fist, having her arm propped on her leg. “Then as your senpai, I order you to speak casually to me!” Her expression is serious, a joking-like anger written across her face. She quickly adds, “And no ‘-senpai’!”

Kasumi’s face goes stern and she looks to be taking this very seriously. “Got it!” She narrows her eyes, unsure. “Nnh..” A second later, she glances back up, “...Hi, Futaba.”

“Was that, ah, casual enough?” Haru questions, looking towards the two warily. She has a small smile on her lips.

“..Confirmed for casual!” Futaba laments, her lips turning into a grin. 

Kasumi giggles, face changing to one of glee. “Thank you, Futaba-senpai!” she exclaims. It only takes her a second to realize her mistake. “Oh … uh..” The group bursts into a laughs, chuckles, giggles. Kasumi says she’s terribly sorry and more and more people poke fun about it, laughing and smiling. It’s n ot re a l

“It’s no biggie!!” Futaba brings her hand back down, smiling over at Kasumi. “Just go with whatever’s comfortable for ya. Your senpai allows it!” Her tone gets a bit cocky, her smile fading to a grin.

Ryuji clears his throat. “Attention, everybody: it’s ehomaki time!” he exclaims. “I’m gonna do my thing.” He looks down at … whatever it was he was holding. A roll of sushi, Akira realizes. “Just gotta make a wish, and then eat this whole thing in one shot.” He glances around, facing scrunching up in confusion. “So…” He frowns, pensive. “What direction am I supposed to face for this to be good luck?”

And that’s when Goro he’s not the real Akechi, Akechi’s dead takes out his phone, poking at the screen a few times. He nods and explains, “It says that's north-northwest of here, and a bit to the right, so…” He turns in his seat, pointing in a direction to his back and to the left. “Roughly, that way.” Akechi doesn’t sound like that

Ann blinks, leaning forward in her seat. “How much is a ‘bit’, though?” 

She’s waved off by Ryuji. “Eh, I’ll figure it out.” His expression goes serious and he shoots everyone a stern glare. “Don’t say a word to me until I’m done, got it? I gotta eat the whole thing without talkin’ for the wish to come true.” He keeps his eyes on it. “Watch thi—“ and he shoves it into his mouth. 

“Do we actually have to watch this?” Makoto asks. She’s sitting on Futaba’s right, looking at Ryuji with a tired expression. 

Yusuke stands and frames Ryuji’s … eating. He seems solemn. “I’d be hard-pressed to call this picturesque.” 

“Do you really think eating an entire roll of sushi could grant your wish?” Haru queries, not unkindly. 

“I prefer throwing beans for luck..” Futaba points a finger up, before letting it drop. “Drive them demons away!” She looks at Sojiro, smiling. “Sojiro! You be the demon this year!” 

Sojiro smirks a bit, lifting a brow. “And are you going to be the one who cleans up afterwards?”

“Come on, Ryuji-senpai!” Kasumi cheers. She watches him with a pensive smile. “You can do it!” 

Around the roll, Ryuji garbles out a, “Thanks”, but his eyes widen at the realization. “Oh!”

At the same time, Kasumi realizes and exclaims, “Oh!” 

Ann groans. “Good grief…”

Morgana is smiling, good-naturedly. “Well, that’s Ryuji for you.” This isn’t Morgana, Morgana isn’t human

Ryuji frowns around the food. “Shorry..”

“Me too,” Kasumi frowns and narrows her eyes. Even so, it quickly shifts to a smile. “But I really do appreciate all of my senpai cheering me on!”

“That’s right we’re cheering you on! We got your back, no matter what!” Morgana supplies, but his voice doesn’t sound as lively as it used to. It’s more low and baritone. “After all, this is where you belong!”

Where you belong …. 

I don’t belong here. This isn’t my reality .

“Yeah!” Ann agrees. She smiles and it meets her eyes for just a second. “We’ll always be together. And that goes for all of you!” 

Everyone’s smiling. It’s f a ke Everyone seems happy.

“Fine, fine!” Ryuji is still talking around the food. “I’ll just try again!”

Sojiro scoffs and narrows his eyes. “Still at it, huh?”

“So, ‘we’ll always be together’, huh?” Kasumi asks, seemingly content. She giggles. “I sure hope so.”

This is for the best. Everyone is happy and they had all been in a complicated situation to begin with—experienced things no one should have to experience.

Later, Akira is doing the dishes and Sojiro is straightening up the bar space. “That was quite the bash,” Sojiro begins. Akira can’t catch his expression, too focused on the stuff he’s washing. “Nice work, putting that all together.”

>Thanks for helping out.

>Let’s have another one soon.

>Something’s wrong…

“Something’s wrong…” Akira’s voice feels strained. 

Sojiro hums, sounding concerned. “Hm? What do you mean?” Akira doesn’t get a chance to answer, because Sojiro shakes his head. “Hey … Can I ask you something?” Akira nods, unsure. “So, um … I’ve been thinking for a while now … if it’s good with you…” He sounds unsure. Akira flicks the water off his hands, turning around and placing his hands in his pockets. He directs his attention to Sojiro. “And I’ll make sure to talk to your parents about it too, okay? But … at least until you’re done with high school and all … Would you maybe like to keep staying at the cafe?” Sojiro chuckles a bit. “And maybe, even after graduation, you could…” Fake, it’s fake it’s fake fakefakefake Akira looks down. “Whaddya say?” and Sojiro sounds so hopeful.

>Yes, I’d love to.

>I want to stay forever.

Akira rubs at his neck, glancing back up to meet Sojiro’s eyes. “I want to stay forever,” he admits. 

“Really?” Sojiro seems shocked, but there’s a happiness there. He clears his throat. “Well, I’d better get the ball rolling tomorrow, then.” He crosses his arms and lets out a chuckle. “Heh, things sure are cookin’ up around here.”

Akira stays. He can stay here.. forever . 

February 6th, 20XX

“Chess?” Goro smiles that’s not his smile pleasantly at him. “Sure, that sounds lovely.” He takes a sip from the coffee Akira had made him, on the house. “Shall we move upstairs?”

Akira nods and the two make their way up the stairs. Akira is sure to grab the chessboard, Sojiro giving him a grin and a “I got it down here, go have fun”.

When he reaches the top of the stairs, Goro I call him Akechi is already moving the table. Akira sets the chessboard down and hurries to help. Soon enough, they have everything set up. Akira takes the right side and Akechi the left. 

“Ah, I forgot the coffee downstairs,” Goro remarks. He sighs and waves it off. “Either way, let us begin.”

>I can get it for you.

>We can play in a bit. 

>Just ask Sojiro for a new one. 

“I can get it for you,” Akira suggests. He gives Goro a small smile. 

Goro blanches. A small thing that has him frozen for a second, but Akira notices. “Thank you, Kurusu Akira .” He smiles and it’s a pleasant, kind smile. It makes Akira’s stomach drop and clench and hurt flutter with butterflies. 

Akira stands from their pseudo chess table and scurries down the stairs. Goro’s cup doesn’t have much left, so he’s quick to make a refill. Sojiro let’s him, only giving him a grin, as he stirs the pot of curry he’s working on. When Akira is back upstairs, Akechi Goro is staring into space. He’s completely unmoving.

>Akechi?

>Goro?

>I’m back.

“I’m back,” Akira announces. He sits back down, but not before placing the steaming mug in front of Goro. 

Goro is moving again, placing his gloved hands around the mug he has both gloves . “You didn’t have to give me a refill,” he laments. He shakes his head and smiles at Akira. It’s plastic. “Thank you, it’s much appreciated. I must say, your coffee always does bring me great … happiness.” He seems to struggle on the word, but soon the cup is brought to his mouth and he’s sipping at it.

Akira added salt to it.

Goro hums and sets it back down. He drank a good amount. “Perfect as usual, Akira.”

Sickness Happiness envelops him. He nods. Goro looks back at the chessboard. Goro was white, while Akira was black—per usual. Akira remembers Goro mentioning that he liked to start first.

Goro begins. 

Their chess games always lasted a good while. Akira appreciated it. He liked having a reason to spend time with Goro. By the time Akira’s king is in check, it’s dark outside. He releases a sigh, seeing no moves. 

>You win again.

>I’ll beat you next time.

“I’ll beat you next time,” Akira assures.

“I suppose we will have to sit and see.” Goro begins cleaning up the pieces. They had each captured a good amount of the other’s. “You are getting better, I’ll admit.” He meets Akira’s eyes.

>Yeah?

>Think I’ll be able to beat you?

“Think I’ll be able to beat you?” Akira grins and leans towards Goro. Goro freezes, his expression blank for a moment. Akira blinks, confused.

A couple seconds pass, then Goro blinks. “Only time will tell, Akira.”

>Since when did you start calling me Akira?

>Since when did I start calling you Goro?

“I should be going.” Goro frowns, narrowing his eyes. “I have some homework to catch up on.” His eyes lift back up and he’s smiling again. It doesn’t reach his eyes it never reaches his eyes . “I’ll be sure to visit again soon.”

Goro helps Akira put the table away. They say their goodbyes and Goro takes the coffee cup down with him. He hears Sojiro and Goro exchange a few words, then there’s the sound of the bell on the door jingling.

Akira’s room falls silent.

March 15th, 20XX

People are chatting all around them. It’s a lively atmosphere. Akira is … at Makoto and Haru’s graduation ceremony, right. They'd finally graduated.

“Congratulations on graduating, you two!” Ann beams, tears gathering in her eyes but a smile on her face. 

Haru nods. “Mm, thanks!”

Ann wipes at her eyes, but it doesn’t do much. “Makoto’s last big speech as council president got me all teared up…” She lets out a sigh, but it’s more wistful than anything. “That was such a nice ceremony.”

“Hey, lemme see.” Ryuji looks to Makoto, who's holding her diploma.

Makoto blinks. “...Okay?” She hands it over and Ryuji is quick to remove the lid on the cylinder. 

He hands it back, grinning. “You gotta do that to be officially graduated!” 

Futaba frowns, eyeing Ryuji skeptically. “Are you feeling even a bit sentimental?”

“This year really flew by, didn’t it?” Makoto asks, her tone happy and oh-so carefree. It’snotre al

Haru nods, smiling. “We made so many memories together … I might even remember those better than what we did in school.” She giggles at that. 

“Yeah,” Ann agrees. Her expression is solemn and downcast. “But it is gonna suck not seeing you two at school anymore..”

Futaba smirks. “Don’t worry! I’ll be attending here starting in April.” 

“For real?” Ryuji looks shocked.

“I’ll be bringing the lunches, so you better get psyched!” Futaba looks at Akira and her smile widens. “Sojiro’s gonna teach me how to cook!”

“Oh right! You’re gonna be here too!” Ryuji looks at Akira as well, flashing a bright smile. Akira nods in reply.

“Don’t forget about me, either,” Morgana adds. He eyes them all curiously. “Maybe I should become a high schooler as well.” He smiles.

Ann’s eyes sparkle. “Ooh, will you? That sounds like fun!” She laughs.

Yusuke’s eyes narrow. “Perhaps I should also transfer to Shujin…”

Kasumi comes running over. She waves to them. “Makoto-senpai! Haru-senpai!!”

Haru’s eyes widen. “You came to the ceremony?”

Sounding out of breath, Kasumi nods. “I wanted to tell you … in person…” She huffs out a breath. “Congratulations on your graduation!”

“Thank you,” Makoto replies.

“I have an idea—why don’t we take a group picture?” Haru suggests, smiling wide at everyone.

Ann pumps a fist. “Ooh yeah!!”

“And I’ll serve as your cameraman,” comes a voice from behind them. Goro walks over. His eyes meet Akira’s and that plastic smile locks onto Goro’s lips.

“Akechi-kun!” Haru.

“We haven’t seen you since the pep rally,” Makoto notes. “I’ve been meaning to ask, what are your plans after high school, Akechi-kun?” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. 

Goro adjusts the collar of his shirt. He’s wearing his blue vest… “I’m thinking about going freelance,” Akechi answers with a laugh. “Considering how busy I’ve been up to now being Shido’s puppet , I think I’ve earned at least a year or so of taking it easy.” He smiles that well mannered smile.

Giggling, Futaba retorts, “Don't turn into a shut-in, got it?”

“Thanks for the warning,” Goro responds, face falling to the kind neutral. “Now, everyone gather up over there,” he gestures to the entrance wall. Everyone does as they’re told, getting ready for the group shot. Goro holds the phone, preparing for the picture. He holds up his nondominant hand, making a gesture for them to be ready, then—

“Would you rather I take that for you?”

Goro turns, noting the person. He stiffens before quickly smiling at the stranger. 

“You’re all friends, right?” The man wears a hat that nearly covers his face. He has glasses and a stubble. It’sMa  ki

Goro glances back at the others. Everyone’s smiling. Akira meets his eyes and Goro’s go steely for just a millisecond. The smile never vanishes. He hands Maruki the man the phone, heading towards the group. Once everyone’s in frame, the man brings the phone up.

“Okay, ready?” He asks. Then, “Say cheese!” 

With the picture taken, the group hovers around Akira’s phone, quickly asking to see the picture. They’re smiling and so excited. Akira turns to the man walking away.

Kasumi must notice too. She bows and shouts, “Thank you!!” Everyone startles and turns, shouting their thanks as well. 

The man keeps walking, but waves his hat in lieu of a reply. Kasumi raises from her bow, smiling wide. When she turns to head back to the others, Akira’s hit with … something. He turns and everyone’s happy . 

Truly happy.

He heads back over. Maybe it’s his turn to look at the picture too.

March 22nd, 20XX

“Good afternoon, Akira.” Goro smiles. They had plans to meet in front of the darts lounge. “Are you ready for a round?”

Akira nods and they head in. He pays the ¥800 for Goro as well. Goro shoots him a fond look and a promise to pay for lunch some other time. Akira waves him off. 

What raises alarms first is when Goro suggests they play 501. Akira gives him a confused look and Goro quickly backtracks, playing it off as a joke.

Akira’s head feels clouded.

They win darts easily and it doesn’t surprise Akira when Goro gets all bullseyes. After playing a few more games, they leave the darts lounge and head back into the crisp Spring air. Goro asks if he can go to Leblanc with Akira and … Akira can’t find it in himself to decline.

Sojiro is already gone and the cafe is closed. It is getting rather late. 

Akira begins heading for the siphons, prepared to make Goro a coffee—it was their usual routine after all—but Goro grabs his arm and twirls him around. His mouth is smiling, but his eyes remain blank and empty. “Akira,” Goro says, as if testing the name on his tongue. He’d used it so many times before though.

>Akechi?

>Yes?

>Didn’t you want coffee?

“Akechi?” The fog lifts, just so bit. He looks at Goro, really looks at him , and it’s … it’s not Akechi Goro . He’s looking at the Detective Prince, isn’t he?

“I’ve told you before to call me Goro,” Goro pouts and it seems so odd on his face. So misplaced. 

This is wrong. Something’s wrong.

Goro must notice something in Akira’s expression, because his pout melts into worry. “What’s wrong?” He brings his hands to Akira’s cheeks, so delicate and soft and—

This isn’t Akechi. 

Akira’s eyes widen at the realization. He feels dread coarse through him. He feels pain rippling through and he can’t stop it and it hurts and hurts and hurts . Maruki lied . He said … he said Akechi wouldn’t die. 

“Akira?”

>Don’t call me that.

>You’re not Akechi.

>Sorry, I’m fine.

He filters through his answers, feeling a fear wash through him. “Sorry,” Akira begins, “I’m fine.” 

Akechi’s thumb strokes at his cheek and he’s frowning. “You’re crying.” He meets Akira’s eyes and Akira just sees emptiness. Akechi’s dead . 

>I need to go.

>I have something I need to do.

>I need a moment.

“I have something I need to do,” Akira says and pulls away from Akechi’s warm grip. Warm, but oh-so cold. Akechi seems confused, but allows him space. Akira scurries to the bathroom. He slams the door shut, locking it behind him.

Running a hand through his curls, Akira takes his phone out with shaking hands. He looks up Maruki’s IM. Luckily, it’s still there and he rushes to send a message.

Akira (9:15pm) : Maruki

Akira (9:15pm) : you're there, aren’t you?

Maruki (9:16pm) : Ah, Akira!! What a pleasant surprise!!

Akira (9:16pm) : we need to talk

Maruki (9:17pm) : Of course! What would you like to discuss? 

Akira (9:17pm) : in person

Maruki (9:18pm) : I see. I’ll be right over.

Maruki (9:18pm) : Would you like Akechi-kun there?

Akira (9:19pm) : that isn’t for me to decide, that’s for Akechi to

Maruki (9:20pm) : I should be there in ten minutes tops. See you soon, Kurusu-kun.

Akira doesn’t reply and closes the IM app. He can’t even hear Akechi. Standing on shaky legs, Akira opens the door. Akechi is in a booth, staring at the lamp blankly. 

>Akechi.

>Maruki is coming over.

>Are you even you right now?

“Maruki is coming over,” Akira shares. He sits across from Akechi and—

Akechi is sat where Maruki sat on February 2nd. The irony is a mighty one and Akira holds back any and all emotions. Akechi gives him a confused look. “Who is Maruki?”

A sigh. Akira wants to weep. He wants to cry and he wants to hug Akechi, but he also wants to cry and be alone and never see this … copy ever again. This wasn’t Akechi.

True to his word, Maruki walks in ten minutes later. He spots Akechi and smiles. Akechi blinks at the man, before standing up. “Ah, I should probably be going anyway. It is rather late and I don’t want to miss the last train.”

>Good night.

>Maybe you can just stay.

The second was never an option to begin with. “Good night,” Akira murmurs. He keeps his eyes on Maruki, who takes the seat previously vacated by Akechi. 

Maruki’s still giving him a smile, yet it has an edge of pity now.

“So,” Maruki begins, “what is it you wanted to discuss?”

Akira let go of a breath he’d been holding. He fears. He’s so scared Akechi is actually gone for good and all he did was create a fake reality with some copy. It hurts . More than Akira would think. He subjected his friends to fake versions of their families, but he didn’t expect it to be like this. They were so easily fed into the lie, yet Akira couldn’t believe it so easily. 

>Where’s Akechi?

>Did Akechi try to fight you?

>That wasn’t the real Akechi.

“That wasn’t the real Akechi.”

The man frowns and glances down. “Kurusu-kun, you knew well going into this that Goro Akechi was dead. This is just a living version, created here.”

Akira feels sick. 

His heart feels just as gripped, just as tight, as it did on the second of February. 

“ That isn’t him .”

Akira doesn’t think, he just says. His voice is watery and full of pain. He feels his heart shattering.

All that he’s given is a pathetic attempt at sympathy. “I’m sorry, but … I can change him, if you’d like.” Maruki smiles now. “I can make him more like the Akechi-kun from late January—if that’s what you prefer, of course!!”

The pain doesn’t dull, it actually probably rips in just a bit deeper. Burrows just a bit further into Akira’s shattered chest. He doesn’t answer Maruki and after Maruki asks a few more questions that he doesn’t get answers to, he gives Akira a pitying look and says his goodbyes.

Akira flops into bed that night, mourning Goro Akechi. He realizes that Akechi went out and knew that he would be a puppet. He went out knowing the only thing he wanted—to be free—went ungranted. And it was Akira’s fault.

Akira weeps, even if he knows it’s unfair. Knows that he shouldn’t be allowed to mourn someone who he’d wronged. 

Falling asleep doesn’t come easy. 

March 30th, 20XX

Akira doesn’t hear from Akechi for a while. He isn’t entirely surprised, especially after his last conversation with Maruki.

Through these last few days, Akira has had plenty of time to think. He’s realized how right Akechi had been. Maruki’s focus was on the happiness of others, yet … the happiness displayed on many was fake. 

He also came to realize that Maruki lacked control of Akira. Being a Trickster apparently came with the aid of not being easily controlled. Apparently. Or … at least he thinks. The most Akira got was foggy hazes in his mind, but he’s learned to work through those and gain control and clarity. 

Maruki doesn’t message him, he doesn’t show up. 

Feeling emboldened, Akira reached out to Akechi this time. No reply. 

He heads to Shinjuku where he used to always find him, and sure enough, there he was at the entrance to the darts lounge. Akechi was in a green vest this time and Akira couldn’t help thinking how dorky he looked. 

Akechi catches his eye and there’s still an emptiness there. “Kurusu.”

>Akechi.

>Aw, boo. No more Detective Prince?

>No more Akira?

What better way to cope, then making a joke of it? Akira smirks and replies, “Aw, boo. No more Detective Prince?” 

“Would you prefer I act more casual and doll-like?” Akechi says it in that same snappy tone, but there’s a formalness there. An honest truth. 

Akira realizes he has a choice here:

>Actually, yes, I would.

>No, I like this you much better.

>I want the real Goro Akechi. 

He goes to voice what he really wants to say, but the fog in his mind makes things sound like static. Akira grabs his head. He needs to get the words out … he doesn’t want either fake Akechi. He wants the real one. The truly real…

“Kurusu, what’s wrong?” Akechi steps closer, seemingly trying to seem unbothered but failing. He reaches a hand out, before drawing it back, unsure. 

“ I want …” Akira grits out and his head is throbbing, “ the real … Goro ,” he groans and brings his other hand to his head, staggering back, “ Akechi .” 

The Akechi in front of him goes quiet. He freezes, as if some buffering computer. 

Akira remembers something. 

It was during January and Akechi and he had visited the Jazz Jin: 

“I’m glad you’re still normal, even in this bizarre situation,” Akechi had confessed. He kept his eyes locked on Akira’s and … Akechi always locked his emotions in his eyes, didn’t he? “If you’d lost it too,” Akechi continued, “Well, if that happened, I would’ve slapped you awake.” 

He stares at the Akechi in front of him. He thinks and thinks and that’s the only idea he’s come up with.

But before he can, the “Akechi” is back online, it seems. “I can be as real as you’d like, Kurusu-kun.”

And Akira loses it. He grits his teeth and—

Well, slaps the boy in front of him.

Akechi staggers back, hand to his cheek. He looks up and—and there it is. His eyes hold a hatred, a fire burning and deep. “What the hell did you do?” Akechi growls. He’s walking forward now, closer and closer to Akira. The fire is raging on and Akira’s going to definitely get burned, but—

But Akechi’s alive . 

>I missed you.

>Wanna discuss over some soothing Jazz music to calm your nerves?

>Are you back to normal?

“I missed you,” Akira admits, stepping closer to the fire. He’s never been afraid of danger and he isn’t going to start now.

The boy seems shocked by his forwardness. He takes a step back. Akira gains confidence and takes another forward–Akechi takes another back. Akira’s never seen him wear such a raw expression before. It goes from anger and morphs slowly into one of fear.

“ Don’t come near me.” 

Did Akechi blame Akira?

>It was Maruki.

>Maruki had everyone controlled.

>You were right.

Akira knew Akechi well enough to know what he liked to hear. “You were right,” he admits. 

Akechi stares at him a moment. “Right about what?” And he steps back another step, this time hitting the wall outside of the darts lounge; Akira stays put, as if anchored to the ground.

>Maruki.

>Us all becoming puppets.

>Everything.

>That I shouldn’t trust him.

“Maruki, us all becoming puppets … everything,” Akira ends up listing. He smiles bitterly. “I … trusted him, yet he did that to you.” 

A sigh. Akechi steps away from the wall and steps closer to Akira. He grabs Akira’s arm and continues on in some direction.

Akira throws away the options.

“Where are we going?” he asks, watching as Akechi leads them. He’s heading towards the train, Akira realizes.

Akechi shoots him a look, before scowling and looking back forward. “Where else? Leblanc. We need to talk. It doesn’t seem like a good idea to discuss this somewhere public.”

Twenty minutes later and the two are at Leblanc. Akechi sits in his usual seat and Akira is making coffee. He keeps his gaze on Akechi, transfixed and so-very happy that Akechi was … he was back . 

“If you burn it, I’ll kill you again,” Akechi snaps.

Akira starts paying attention to what he’s doing a bit more closely. When the coffee is done, he places it in front of Akechi and rests his elbows on the bar counter. Akira sets his chin in his hands and stares at Akechi.

The detective’s ears go red with the attention and Akira can see his freckles a bit clearer now. Akechi shoots him a withering glare. “What?”

“I’m just glad you’re back,” Akira mumbles. He leans his face onto his left hand, reaching out his right to tuck a strand of hair behind Akechi’s ear. 

Akechi grows even more red at the action. His lips part and he stares at Akira with an expression Akira had never really seen before. Akira smiles at the new side of him, glad that he could even experience it now. 

Huffing, Akechi takes a sip of the scalding coffee before him. He watches Akira patiently. “...I suppose, if you can slap me awake more often, this will suffice.” Akechi huffs and rolls his eyes. “It’s not as if we have much of a choice anyway, with the metaverse and the real world merged, I don’t think we have a reality to go back to.”

Akira frowns at that, but Akechi meets his eyes again. 

“You know,” Akechi begins, “there was something I always wanted to do..”

He tilts his head. “What’s that?” Akira asks, bringing his hand back to lean his chin on. He watches Akechi closely and the boy’s eyelids go half lidded. He smirks and stands up. Akira grows alert. 

Akechi is slow in his walk around the corner. He practically struts up to Akira, the smirk looking far too seductive—Akira can’t help but find him all too attractive. Akechi was always very attractive, especially when his true self was shown.

And he’s frozen. Akira can’t move and he doesn’t know if he’d want to. Akechi steps closer and invades Akira’s space, but he isn’t complaining. A small part of him wonders if Akechi will just smack him upside the head, just to fuck around, but instead he places a hand on Akira’s cheek. He places another to his other cheek, but it’s quickly swept down to Akira’s neck. The hand plays with the curls at the back of Akira’s head and he’s growing dizzy with how close Akechi is now.

“Akechi,” Akira utters.

His face inches closer and their breaths entangle and mix. Akira breathes in and it’s entirely Akechi . 

Akechi teases a bit, pressing a small peck to Akira’s lips and Akira whines. Akechi laughs at that, before dragging Akira into a kiss, using the leverage on his neck. Akira is quick to kiss back, moving his hands to Akechi’s back to just do something with them. 

The detective deepens the kiss and before long Akira’s whispering a small, “Goro,” into the mouth of the other.

“And when did I give you the per—“

“Shut up and keep kissing me,” Akira groans.

Akechi smirks. “Why, of course, Akira .” 

And Akira melts. Goro is back to kissing him and he feels so alive. The world is right again. Even if it’s a fake happiness out there, in here with Goro, it’s a true happiness. A real one that Akira wouldn’t trade the world for (he hadn’t traded the world for it, after all). 

Before long, Goro’s dragging Akira to the stairs. They’re both breathless and move to sit on Akira’s bed. It’s silent for a while, but Akira’s lips feel happily buzzed and warm. He moves his head to lay on Goro’s shoulder and the other boy only stills for a second, before laying his against Akira’s. 

After some time, they both move to get ready for bed. Goro decides to just stay and borrows some of Akira’s clothes. Only the pants don’t fit exact. Once they’re done brushing their teeth and washing up, they lay in bed beside one another. Akira faces Goro and smiles.

Goro holds the eye contact, giving Akira a meaningful look. He moves to lay on his back and Akira follows suit. They stare at the glow in the dark stars scattered across Akira’s ceiling. 

“I’m scared,” Goro admits. “I don’t want to be controlled again.”

And Goro never really got on an emotional level with Akira—probably with anyone. but Akira finds he appreciates it. He replies, “It’ll be okay. I’m sure Maruki will leave us be now.” He grabs for Goro’s hand and squeezes. 

Goro squeezes back, and really, that’s all he could ask for. 

While Akira is sleeping that night, his phone buzzes. Luckily, it's on silent. The two sleep soundly and the text isn’t seen for a while.

Maruki (11:14pm) : I hope you don’t mind, but I lent you some of my power. You know Akechi-kun better than anyone else, so I just know you’ll make him the way you see fit.

Maruki (11:15pm) : Thank you, Kurusu-kun. You’ve made the right decision. Truly.