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“So, leader, what did you want to talk about?”
Akechi’s demeanor is perfectly pleasant, just the right amount of friendliness with a dash of innocent confusion.
His apartment is clean and tidy, as Akira expected, but quite barren. It contains all of the necessities for someone to live, but no decoration beyond that. He glances around, a bit nervously. Akechi did not offer him to sit down on the couch or at the kitchen table, so he must not want him to get too comfortable or stay too long.
“It’s about the Phantom Thieves,” he responds, finally.
Akechi lets out a polite laugh. “I figured as much,” he says, a hint of playfulness in his tone. He sobers up as he continues speaking, though, looking slightly worried. “I was a bit surprised when you insisted on coming over here, though. May I ask why?”
“I wanted to speak to you in private.” Between Morgana’s presence and Futaba’s eavesdropping, Leblanc is never private. He’s sure Akechi can understand that.
A concerned frown appears on Akechi’s face. “I see...it sounds serious, then.”
“You could say that.” Akira reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “There’s something I want to show you.”
He fiddles with the phone for a few seconds, before pulling up a recorded audio file. His thumb hesitates just for a moment above the play button, before pressing it.
“We could say he stole the guard’s gun and committed suicide during his imprisonment… How about that?”
As the very familiar voice fills the room, Akechi’s entire body goes rigid across from him.
“Yes, the guard will be one of ours. We’ll have to eliminate him after to destroy the evidence though…”
Akechi’s voice continues to prattle on, detailing his plan to betray the Phantom Thieves and kill Akira. Neither of them says a word even the recording ends, plunging the room into sudden silence.
Akira watches Akechi carefully, waiting for a reaction. Akechi’s expression is unreadable, his body dangerously still. The deadly tension in the air is suddenly palpable, and Akira, for all his projected calmness, feels like he’s trapped himself in the room with a lethal predator.
This feeling only amplifies when Akechi moves, quick as a flash, and suddenly Akira has a gun pointed at his head.
“Well.” All traces of pleasantness are gone from Akechi’s voice now, finally. “It seems you’ve been spying on me, then.”
“It’s hard to get the drop on a detective,” Akira says, “but I am a Phantom Thief, after all.”
Akechi’s jaw clenches. “What do you want?”
Akira goes silent at that. There’s no easy way to answer the question.
“Are you trying to threaten me?” Akechi presses. He’s becoming angrier now, his face contorting and eyes flashing with barely concealed rage. “You think a piece of criminal trash like you is going to get one up on me? You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”
Even knowing what he does about Akechi, Akira is still struck by the contempt in his voice.
“I’m not,” he assures him quickly. “I just want to help you.”
Akechi pauses, looking surprised for a moment. Then he scowls. “Don’t give me that sanctimonious bullshit. What, you and your little friends are going to save me? Is that it?”
“No one else knows about this.”
“What?” Akechi raises his eyebrows incredulously.
“It’s true,” Akira says, glancing down at the phone in his hand. “I followed you on my own. I didn’t tell any of my friends.”
There are a few beats of silence. Akechi’s eyes narrow, and he presses the gun forward, until it’s nearly touching Akira’s forehead. “Are you an idiot, Kurusu? You realize I could just kill you right now, then?”
“I know.” Akira tries to quell his thundering heartbeat. “It’s a risk I decided to take.”
For a moment he’s worried Akechi is just going to kill him anyway, but then it seems his curiosity wins out, at least for the time being. “For what? What do you want?”
Akira pauses. The words nearly stick in his throat as he says, “I want to help. I’m on your side.”
“On my side?” Akechi sounds almost mocking. “You just found out I’m going to betray you all and kill you, and you’re on my side?”
“Yes.”
“If that’s true, then you really are a fucking idiot.”
Akira almost smiles, despite himself. The difference between polite, charming Akechi and the boy swearing and snarling at him is so jarring it can’t help but be amusing.
Not to mention, he’s right. He really is an idiot.
“I can prove it,” he says.
Akechi cocks his head, his malicious eyes boring into him. “How are you going to do that?”
Slowly, making sure to make no sudden movements, Akira lifts the phone in his hand. He shows the screen to Akechi, which is still displaying the audio recording. His thumb moves, this time hovering over the delete button.
Akira locks eyes with Akechi right as he presses down on the button, erasing the only evidence of his guilt from existence.
If he weren’t watching so carefully, he would barely notice the way Akechi’s eyes widen, how his breath hitches in surprise.
But it’s hard to miss the mocking, nearly-deranged laughter that follows.
“Do you realize what you just did?” Akechi asks between peals of laughter, jabbing the gun forward. “Why would you do that?”
Akira doesn’t answer, casting his gaze to the ground.
“Well.” Akechi places the barrel of the gun under his chin, tilting his head back up. “You did say you would prove yourself. But to what end? Hm? Don’t tell me you think you’re in love with me or something.”
The words are said in jest, but Akira tenses, his words catching in his throat. He’s unable to meet Akechi’s eyes.
His reaction isn’t exactly subtle, and Akechi, as any good detective is wont to do, notices. He gapes at Akira, incredulous, his grip on the gun loosening. Akira feels his own face burning.
Then Akechi starts laughing again, the same sick, mirthless sound, tinged with bemusement and disbelief. “You’re serious?” he goads. “How pathetic.”
As he speaks, he cocks the gun, eyes blazing.
“Akechi.” Akira forces himself to speak again, forces himself to meet Akechi’s gaze. The name is the only thing that comes out of his mouth, desperately. A plea. A promise.
A few tense moments pass.
“Hmph,” Akechi says. “I suppose if that’s the case, you can be useful to me.”
He lowers the gun, finally. Akira tries not to let out an audible breath of relief. Before he can relax, though, Akechi steps forward, bringing their bodies closer together. His gloved hands replace where the barrel of the gun had been under his chin. Akira’s skin burns at the contact.
Once again, it’s impossible to read the emotions on Akechi’s face. He smiles, but there’s no genuine happiness in it. There’s dark amusement, maybe, and a rippling undercurrent of disdain. The expression is hollow, and Akira gets the feeling that even here, even now, Akechi is still hiding some of his true self.
“Will you betray your friends for me?” Akechi asks, and his hand moves up, his thumb swiping over Akira’s lip.
Akira stutters. “I…”
Akechi doesn’t give him much of a chance to answer. “I suppose you already have, haven’t you?” He glances at the phone in Akira’s hand. “It’s too late to turn back now.”
Akira knows, and he swallows down the burning of guilt in his throat, because he’s already accepted it. “I don’t want to turn back,” he says, honestly.
“Hm.” Akechi’s eyes flit over his face, carefully, calculating. “Then you’ll help me.”
It’s still so hard to say out loud, to solidify his betrayal with words. So he nods.
That dark smile on Akechi’s face widens, and he leans in, sealing the promise with a kiss. Akira’s skin ignites, his lips tingling as they part in surprise. Akechi pulls back in the next moment, quickly--too quickly. He’s left chasing the feeling, leaning forward automatically as Akechi moves away.
Akechi’s mouth curls into a sneer. “You really are pathetic,” he says, almost fondly.
He really is, isn’t he?
The words don’t even sting. He’ll take them and more, if there’s even a chance that he can feel those lips on his again.