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Ren was a lucky person, he was pretty sure. It’s just that his luck wasn’t always good.
Taken over the course of his entire life, he supposed his luck was actually extraordinarily bad, but it was lucky all the same – lucky as in unexpected, one-in-a-million crapshoot odds – in the last six months alone, he’d had enough chance happenings to last anyone else a lifetime.
Like encountering a drunken man assaulting a woman just in time for Ren to step in and intervene (good); like that same drunken man having unfathomable sway with the local police (bad); like being sentenced to a year’s probation (bad) and being shipped off to live with a stranger in some dingy café attic (bad, but not as bad as it had initially seemed); like…
Like making friends with the detective investigating the very criminal organization of which Ren was the leader. That one was bad luck, probably, and unlike Ren’s living situation, it only got worse as the year progressed. It had been two weeks, if that, since Akechi had muscled his way onto the team, and even less time since Ren and the Thieves put their collective brains together and drew the inevitable conclusion: that Akechi knew more than he was letting on, and always had, that his motives were selfish at best and outright hostile towards them at worst, that their partnership wouldn’t last until December…
It didn’t feel like bad luck, though, not when it was just the two of them hanging out – which they did with some regularity, even before Akechi had learned Ren’s secret and joined their ranks – in cafés and pool bars, enjoying the atmosphere as much as each other’s company. That was where they were this afternoon, idling the day away in Kichijoji and trying not to think about their deadline to steal Sae’s treasure, which was lurching ever closer. They were several games deep into a 9-ball match, though after two losses in a row, Ren had begun to forgo strategy in favor of attempting increasingly complex trick shots, to… middling success, at least if he was judging himself on how many shots he sank.
(If, on the other hand, his measure of success was how often he made Akechi smile, then the afternoon was wildly successful.)
By the time they left the bar, it was late afternoon, and the weather had taken a turn for the worst. Heavy storm clouds painted the sky grey while rain poured down in thick sheets, leaving the world dark and dreary except for the occasional crackle of lightning. November was an awkward time of year: close enough to fall that there were still dead leaves on the trees, but close enough to winter to be bitterly cold – and late enough that a thunderstorm should have been a rare event indeed.
Without thinking, without even consulting one another, Ren and Akechi chose to make their way to Leblanc in pursuit of hot curry and coffee. Outside, the wind whipped the rain under their umbrellas and into their faces, the air just warm enough that the rain stayed liquid but cold enough for the droplets to sting Ren’s cheeks and turn his skin red and raw as they hurried from the subway station to Leblanc, which shone like a glowing beacon in the grey evening light.
The fact that he didn’t notice or question the uncharacteristically large crowd at Yongen’s subway station was bad luck, Ren would later concede. If he’d been alone, or if he’d been with Morgana, he might have paid attention, might have actually heard the announcements playing over the intercom, but being around Akechi, Ren’s attention to detail faltered.
Except that wasn’t quite true, was it? Ren always noticed a great many things… about Akechi himself. He noticed the way Akechi always wore gloves, even when he was eating; he noticed when Akechi’s hair began to get a little too long, and when he would get it cut back to its original length; he noticed the curve of Akechi’s collarbone when he got particularly involved in a game of pool, undoing his tie and loosening the top button of his shirt so he wouldn’t choke while making a shot.
These details stirred a strange feeling in Ren’s chest, a bit like static and a bit like the feeling he got when entering the Metaverse – the sensation of losing control for a half second – and he wasn’t quite sure if he liked that feeling… but he wasn’t sure he hated it, either.
“There you are,” Sojiro said when they finally tumbled through Leblanc’s front door, shivering and damp. Inside, Futaba was sitting in one of the booth seats with Morgana beside her, and, apart from Sojiro himself, she was the café’s only occupant. She looked up from her laptop, glancing from the two of them to the window and back again.
“Where were you guys?” she asked. “It’s miserable out there.”
“We weren’t expecting the rain,” Akechi said, trying to close his umbrella without showering himself in more raindrops than absolutely necessary.
“Yeah, you and everyone else,” Sojiro said. He gestured vaguely to the TV set hanging from the wall. “They’ve been delaying trains, even shutting a few down… it’s a good thing you made it back when you did.”
“Shutting down? Like completely stopped?” Ren asked.
“Yeah,” Futaba said. “Ordinarily, they’d probably just delay them until the weather cleared up, but after the incident back in April…”
“Ah… the train driver who suffered a psychotic breakdown,” Akechi said. His expression was deceptively neutral, betraying no opinion or emotion toward an event Ren knew he had caused. “They must want to avoid another accident.”
“Anyway, now that you’re here, I’m going to close up early,” Sojiro announced, tossing a dishrag haphazardly into the sink. “No one’s going to show up if they know they can’t get home.”
“Works for me,” Futaba said. She closed her laptop and stretched her legs, yawning loudly. “I wanna go home and turn on my heater and stay in bed all night.”
“Ooh, ooh, take me with you!” Morgana pleaded, leaping up into Futaba’s lap. “It’s so cold up in the attic…”
“Ack!” Futaba recoiled, launching Morgana back to the ground. “Cold paws, get off!”
“Noo, don’t leave me here!”
“And leave Ren alone? That’s cold, Mona.”
“Ren doesn’t mind! He wants what’s best for me! Right, Ren?”
Ren shrugged. “If it’s okay with Futaba and Boss, it’s okay with me.”
“Ugh, you’re such a pushover,” Futaba said, but nonetheless, she scooped Morgana up into her arms. “Don’t freeze to death without him, okay?”
“I won’t,” Ren promised.
“Speaking of freezing to death,” Sojiro said, “I put some extra blankets in one of those big boxes upstairs… some candles, too, just in case. It’s only going to get colder, so don’t get yourself sick, okay?” He paused, his attention drifting over to Akechi. “There’s probably an extra pillow around up there, too. You never know.”
“Okay. Thanks, Boss,” Ren said.
After turning off all the lights save for those over the bar, Sojiro grabbed an umbrella from behind the counter and stepped outside, Futaba and Morgana close behind him. Before she left, Futaba raised her eyebrows at Ren and glanced at Akechi, who remained immobile inside Leblanc. Subtly, Ren shook his head.
It’s okay, he thought. He’s not hurting anyone.
Futaba’s sardonic stare said back to him: Not yet.
Ren locked the door behind her, watching her dash through the rain alongside Sojiro until they disappeared around the corner towards home, and then he turned back around to face Akechi.
“It’s not letting up, is it?” Akechi asked him.
“Doesn’t look like it,” Ren said, and Akechi’s expression fell.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “if I hadn’t insisted on staying so long, this might not have happened…”
“It’s fine,” Ren said. “You’re welcome to wait out the storm here.”
“I’m glad; it doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice.”
To this, Ren could do little more than shrug. He passed behind Akechi and around the counter towards the coffee maker, which sat on the countertop beneath a lamp’s spotlight, begging to be used.
“Are you cold?” Ren asked. He rubbed his palm against his cheek, which was still a little numb from the freezing rain. “I could make us coffee.”
“Oh… yes, that would be wonderful.”
Ren ducked below the counter, rummaging through the shelves for a set of coffee beans Sojiro wouldn’t kill him for borrowing. He always ended up serving Akechi something a little less fancy than what Sojiro would make for him, but Akechi never complained, and although he praised Sojiro’s coffee more thoroughly than he did Ren’s, it was only when he sampled Ren’s coffee that Akechi’s eyes would go soft and gentle, a rare moment where he chose to drop his guard. Ren never drew attention to it, but he noticed it all the same.
When the coffee was ready, Ren poured two mugs, sliding one across the bar to Akechi. Instead of coming to sit beside him, however, Ren motioned towards the attic.
“C’mon, let’s go upstairs.”
“Ah… are you sure it’s okay?” Akechi asked. “It’s your room; I’d hate to impose.”
“You’ve been up there for Thieves’ meetings, though,” Ren said. “It’s fine. Unless you plan on spilling your coffee?”
Instantly, Akechi’s second hand flew to the bottom of his coffee mug, bracing it safely in both hands.
“I’ll be careful,” he promised.
It was only as they climbed the stairs together that Ren realized exactly how different this was from the raucous, eight-people-and-one-cat gatherings they held during the day. Leblanc’s attic was hardly the most welcoming place in the world, but it was Akira’s home, and now he was inviting his greatest and most dangerous rival to come sit with him in this private place without even Morgana present to keep an eye on things. No wonder Futaba had looked so skeptical.
But as Ren fumbled in the dark, reaching out blindly to turn on a light, he didn’t feel like his life was in danger. He couldn’t quite put a name to the feeling he was experiencing… but he knew it wasn’t dangerous. Not dangerous in the life-threatening sense, anyway.
“Oh… is that our game from the other day?” Akechi asked. The chess board was sitting on the corner of the table, right where they had left it after a trip to Mementos had interrupted them. Akechi set his coffee down and took a seat behind the white pieces. “You never put it away?”
“Nah,” Ren said, shrugging and taking the seat adjacent to Akechi. “I was trying to find a way to beat you.”
“Is that so? And did you succeed?”
“We can find out, if you want.”
Akechi lifted his coffee mug to his lips, smiling over the edge. “Well then… it was your move, if I recall correctly,” he said, closing his eyes and taking a long drink.
Cocky, Ren thought, picking up his knight and moving it to intercept Akechi’s bishop.
While it was true that Ren had given the game some thought in the interim few days, in the back of his mind, he must have always known this was how the game’s continuation was going to play out: after a scant three moves apiece, Akechi had completely demolished any plans Ren had formulated, and he was once again flying blind, playing opposite Akechi’s whims and trying desperately to keep up.
It might have helped if Ren had been paying more attention to the board and less attention to Akechi himself, but, Ren argued internally, he just couldn’t help it; knowing what he knew, Ren was almost required to watch Akechi – to study his expressions and body language during not only battle, but also peaceful moments like this, to remain ever vigilant for any cracks that may have formed in his pleasant exterior.
Ren took his job very seriously.
But sometimes, during particularly slow days in the Metaverse, Ren would cease his hawk-like surveillance and contemplate more mundane things instead, like Akechi’s costume. Completely unlike his civilian clothes, his outfit was certainly flashy, brighter and bolder than even Ann’s catsuit, and it didn’t exactly scream “thief” – but then again, Akechi wasn’t. A Phantom Thief in name only, Akechi had made it very clear that his goals aligned with Ren’s only briefly, though in the meantime, Ren couldn’t deny that he played the part perfectly…
“Amamiya-kun? Is everything okay?”
Ren shook his head and returned to the present.
“Sorry,” he said.
“You were staring at me quite intently... is something the matter?”
A voice inside Ren, his conscience or Arsene or something else, whispered one word to him: lie.
“I was thinking about your Metaverse costume,” Ren said.
(He had already told Akechi so many lies. He didn’t need to tell one more.)
“Ah?” Akechi obviously wasn’t expecting that answer, and the corners of his mouth quirked up in genuine surprise. “I see…”
“I was wondering if maybe it was affected by the way the public sees you,” Ren continued, moving his bishop across the board to capture one of Akechi’s straggling pawns. He was well aware that Akechi had him in a bind; he was only stalling his inevitable defeat.
“Oh?” Predictably, Akechi captured Ren’s bishop with a knight and brought himself one move closer to victory. “In what way?”
Ren skimmed the chessboard quickly before moving one of his remaining rooks to protect his king. “You tell me, Detective Prince,” he said, and grinned. He was waiting for Akechi to grin back in that way he always did when he was humoring Ren, but it never came; instead, his posture deflated, and his eyes turned downcast.
“Hmm… so that’s what you mean,” Akechi said. Listlessly, he made his move, encroaching ever further onto Ren’s side of the board. “I guess it’s possible.”
“Not a fan of your nickname?” Ren asked.
“That’s… complicated.”
You’re nothing but complicated, Ren wanted to say, but didn’t.
“I don’t hate it, I suppose,” Akechi continued, “and I’m flattered by the comparison to Shirogane-san, but… there’s a particular stigma that comes with that kind of title, you know. Being compared to royalty, even if only in jest…” He trailed off, shaking his head as if to chase away an unpleasant thought. “Besides, no one calls me that anymore. Not since my reputation took such a dive.”
“Well,” Ren said, watching helplessly as Akechi captured his last rook, “you’ll always be a prince among us Thieves.”
This, at last, pulled a laugh from Akechi. “Well then, if I’m a prince, does that make you my court jester? Hmm, Joker?”
When Ren looked up from the board, he saw that the sparkle had returned to Akechi’s eyes, and a ripple of pride surged through Ren’s chest, making his limbs go fuzzy. He liked seeing Akechi loosen up like this; it didn’t happen very often, and only around Ren, and sometimes, selfishly, he reveled in that fact.
“You know, in some European literature, the fool is considered the wisest character,” Ren countered.
“Not wise enough to save himself from checkmate, it would seem,” Akechi said.
Ren’s eyes snapped down to the board, flicking over each of his remaining pieces in turn and coming to the sad but wholly unsurprising realization that Akechi had beaten him soundly.
“Let’s go again,” Ren said at once, grabbing his king and taking it out of harm’s way. “Um. If you want to, I mean. We can stop if you’re bored.”
“Playing with you is never boring, Amamiya-kun,” Akechi said, already gathering up his captured pieces to reset the board. “Although… are you sure you don’t want to be white this time? I would hate to think that I’m taking an advantage over you every time, since I get to go first.”
“No, I like the challenge,” Ren said. “It’s important to know how to react in battle.”
“Ah, very astute,” Akechi said. Once the pieces were all in place, he took his middle pawn and advanced it two squares, the same opening he always used. “No wonder the Phantom Thieves made you their leader.”
Ren mirrored Akechi’s move; now, one black pawn and one white pawn stood in gridlock across from each other.
“Are you implying something about my leadership, Akechi-kun?” he asked.
“No, not at all,” Akechi said, and for once, his voice sounded honest. “I’m just… not used to following instead of leading, I suppose.”
They fell into silence. Unlike their previous, half-finished game, they played seriously this time, trading moves as if they were dueling. Akechi seemed ever-certain of his actions, and at first, Ren felt the same, but over time, he found himself unable to keep pace with the detective, taking longer and longer with his moves until finally he had to stop completely and think.
Surveying the board, Ren clicked his tongue. He was getting a serious case of déjà vu; he was certain Akechi had lured him into a similar trap before. The obvious move would be to take Akechi’s knight, which was sitting out in the open, seemingly unguarded, but if Ren did that…
“That’s an unconventional play, Amamiya-kun,” Akechi said when Ren finally took his turn, leaving the knight untouched and simply advancing one of his pawns, instead.
“Unconventional is just another way to say groundbreaking,” Ren said. “Besides, if I do something you don’t expect, you’ll have to think up a plan on the spot instead of relying on existing strategies.”
Akechi’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Ah? I’m certain I don’t know what you mean.”
“You’re always so detached from the game when we play,” Ren said. “Like you’re following a script.”
“I would hardly call ‘good strategy’ the same as following a script,” Akechi said. “Certain moves are simply better than others. It makes sense to use the same tactics if you know they’ll lead to victory, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Sure,” Ren said, “until your enemies start to learn your strategy.”
“Then I suppose the best way to combat that would be to ensure you don’t leave any enemies alive, hmm?” Akechi asked, in a tone of voice that did not sound much like he was joking at all. “If you want me to play from the heart, however… well, I won’t deny you.”
The game’s frantic pace slowed, and Ren lost track of the minutes, falling into a timeless haze that was interrupted only by the increasingly frequent rumbles of thunder from outside. He went on the offensive, moving across the board with reckless abandon, and the longer the game went on, the more Akechi began to fidget. Ren was in the process of corralling Akechi’s king into a corner, and when it seemed as though he might actually have gained the upper hand, Akechi’s foot suddenly bumped against Ren’s shin.
In the moment, Ren chose to write it off as an accident – even though Akechi didn’t apologize, which was odd for him when he was still ostensibly in his princely persona – but then a few minutes later, Akechi uncrossed his legs and again, his foot brushed against Ren’s leg, lingering a little this time, long enough that Ren looked up from the chessboard to give his opponent a look.
“Ah, my apologies,” Akechi said, smiling in a way that did not seem very apologetic at all – though he did retract his foot.
“It’s fine,” Ren said.
It was not fine.
Ren was shaken as he turned back to the chess board, and it hit him that this was Akechi’s new plan: he wanted to fluster Ren badly enough that it would throw him off his game. Well, Ren thought, that wasn’t going to work.
Akechi shifted around, and this time, Ren was ready for him, stretching his own leg out and intercepting him. Their legs knocked together gently, causing an expression of surprise to cross Akechi’s face, but he kept his eyes on the game, sweeping his queen across the board to threaten one of Ren’s knights.
“Your move,” he said.
Beneath the table, Akechi’s legs remained precisely where they were and, cautiously, Ren nudged the top of his foot against Akechi’s ankle, like he was petting him. He felt again that same sensation of losing control, but this time it lasted much longer than half a second: static fizzled from the spot where his and Akechi’s legs were locked together, making him go warm all over. It was as if they were playing a second game now, except this time, Ren didn’t know the rules – was he losing or winning? And if he won, what would be his prize?
Akechi trailed one foot along the back of Ren’s calf, an action Ren tried to ignore as he moved his queen to threaten Akechi’s king.
“Check,” he said.
Humming pleasantly, Akechi shifted his king to the left such that if Ren tried to pursue him with his queen, he’d lose his second most valuable piece. He smiled, nudging one of his knees against Ren’s, and it was at this time that Ren became acutely aware of his own left hand resting on his leg. It would be so easy, he thought, to simply inch forward in his seat and slip his hand onto Akechi’s knee, which was now well within his reach. It would be the most overt move either of them had made tonight, unbearably intimate, but it was all hidden away beneath the table, and that made it okay, didn’t it? Those were the rules, right?
As Ren pulled his queen back, he nudged himself forward, ghosting his fingertips over Akechi’s knee before placing his entire hand palm-down on his leg and giving a gentle squeeze. Akechi jolted in place, much as he tried to stifle the action, and his right hand dropped to his lap. He worried his lip between his teeth, and then – not looking at Ren, never looking – he slid his hand forward, the tips of his gloved fingers just brushing against Ren’s bare skin…
When the brightest flash of lighting they’d seen all night flashed through the sky, followed immediately by a thunderous boom, and the attic was plunged into total darkness. Akechi jerked away, gasping in shock.
“Damn it,” Ren muttered. He shoved his chair back and pulled his phone out of his pocket, activating the flashlight. “A fuse must have blown.”
“Oh,” Akechi said, his voice shaky and rough. “Yes, that must be it.”
Ren crossed the attic to the bookshelf, where he found the pair of folded blankets to which Sojiro had alluded earlier. Pushing them aside, he uncovered what he was looking for: a handful of mismatched candles and a matchbox. The candles were in various states of use, but they all had holders, and provided the matchbox was dry, they should light just fine. He scooped up the candles, awkwardly cradling them in his arms and dropping them on the far end of the table.
“Ah… candles?” Akechi asked from the darkness. “You don’t have an electric lantern, a flashlight?”
“Dunno. This is just what Boss gave me,” Ren said. He struck a match against the box and it flared to life, a single pinprick of light that brought Akechi’s face into view. “Is that okay?” he asked. “Will the smoke bother you?”
“No,” Akechi said at once. “No, it’s fine. We can’t very well finish playing in the dark, can we?”
“Right.”
One after the other, Ren lit the candles: three for the big table and one for his workbench. They didn’t do much, illuminating only a small portion of the room and causing their remaining chess pieces to throw long shadows over the board, but they were light enough to see by.
Satisfied with his work, Ren returned to his seat. He sat very deliberately next to Akechi, close enough that if he shifted his leg a few centimeters to the left, their knees would be touching again, but he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to do that anymore. Rattled by the lighting, Akechi had leaned back in his chair, putting some distance between them again; like resetting the chessboard, they had lost all their progress, and Ren no longer knew where they stood.
“So, um. Where’d you learn to play chess?” Ren asked.
“I… I’m self-taught,” Akechi admitted. “It was difficult to cultivate and maintain friendships while in foster care, so I spent a lot of time alone. I read books on chess, at first – how to play, how to win – and eventually purchased a small, portable set for myself.” He paused, moving one of his pieces a few squares towards Ren, and then added, “But it’s a much more enjoyable experience playing against someone else instead of against myself.”
“I bet. You must know all your own moves by now,” Ren said. It made Akechi laugh, short and melodious.
“What about you?” Akechi asked. “It’s an uncommon hobby… when did you learn to play?”
Ren shrugged. “I picked up the basics here and there,” he said, “but I didn’t start playing seriously until…”
Akechi cocked his head to the side.
“Until…?”
“Until I met you.”
“…oh,” Akechi breathed. He averted his eyes, picking up his queen and hovering her over the gameboard for a long time before ultimately returning the piece to its starting position.
“I believe we’ve hit stalemate,” he said.
“That’s okay; we can stop,” Ren said. “It’s getting late, anyway.”
“It is,” Akechi said, and he sighed. “This is troubling… if the power is out here, the trains aren’t likely to start running again, at least not today.”
“You can stay the night. I think Boss kind of already thought you were going to.”
“I… well…”
“As long as a prince like you wouldn’t mind sleeping with the common folk for a night,” Ren added with a wink.
Akechi let out a puff of laughter. “You underestimate yourself,” he said. “I know I called you a jester, but you may have been right that you’re the wisest of us… and I’m not the kind of prince you’re thinking of.”
“No?” Ren pushed the chessboard aside, turning to face Akechi directly. “I don’t know. You’re ambitious, but you’re strong and reliable, even when working with your enemies… you’re the kind of person who sticks to their justice. That’s what you said, right?”
“I’m…”
They were close to something. Here, alone but together, Ren felt the odds shift slightly, just slightly, in his favor… yet Akechi said nothing; buckling under the weight of Ren’s full attention, he looked away, his eyes straying around the room and finally settling on the window.
“Oh… look, it’s started snowing,” he said.
Outside the window, Ren could see that, yes, the temperature had finally dropped far enough that the afternoon rain had turned into snow. Ren hummed in acknowledgment.
“Tomorrow is going to be very dangerous,” Akechi said. As if anticipating the confusion on Ren’s face, he quickly added, “Overnight, the standing water from today’s rain will freeze to ice, and the snow will cover it up – no one will notice the ice until it’s too late.”
“I guess,” Ren said. “We can worry about that in the morning, though.”
“But that’s the problem, isn’t it? Right now, things seem so nice and peaceful – beautiful – and it’s hard to see that danger. That doesn’t mean, however, that the danger is gone, only hidden.” Akechi looked at Ren with weary eyes and asked, “Do you understand?”
“Not… exactly,” Ren said, although he thought he kind of did, actually. “I mean. Even if it’s going to be hell tomorrow, we can still appreciate the beauty tonight, can’t we?”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“What, then?”
Akechi took a deep, steadying breath, his hands clenched into tight fists in his lap. “I just wonder, sometimes, if it turns out… if I’m not the person, the prince you imagine me to be, would you stand by me even then, Amamiya-kun?” he asked.
The candlelight flickered, casting shifting shadows across the walls. The dancing lights softened Akechi’s features, made his devilish face look angelic and warm, glowing like the sun, and Ren – like a moth to a flame – was drawn to him. He took Akechi by the hand, slipping his thumb beneath the edge of Akechi’s glove and pushing the leather up, revealing a sliver of bare skin.
“To the ends of the Earth, my liege,” Ren said, and pressed his lips to delicately Akechi’s wrist. He kept his eyes on Akechi, who parted his lips in shock.
“Y-you don’t have to go that far…” he stammered.
“I’d go farther.”
Akechi’s arm began to tremble in Ren’s hold, his pupils blown wide and dark in the candlelight, and for once, for perhaps the first time, Ren saw turmoil in Akechi’s eyes, like the very thought of giving into his selfish desires caused him physical pain, and Ren’s heart ached in sympathy.
If Ren’s luck was bad, then Akechi’s was downright abysmal.
Soothing his thumb over Akechi’s wrist, Ren softly murmured, “It’s okay.”
And that was too much. Akechi faltered, and he gasped out, desperation in his voice,
“Ren.”
“Goro,” Ren replied, cupping Akechi’s neck with his hand and drawing him close enough to kiss. Briefly, Akechi froze, and then all at once, he gave in, melting into Ren’s touch and bracing himself on Ren’s shoulder, kissing back with feverish, clumsy intensity.
It might not have been enough to banish Akechi’s troubled thoughts for good, but Ren took solace in the fact that for the moment, he had granted Akechi the freedom to stop thinking and just feel… and though he couldn’t speak for Akechi, to Ren, nothing had ever felt more right.
When they broke apart, Ren pressed his forehead gently against Akechi’s, listening to the sound of the detective’s labored breathing while he waited for Akechi to gather his thoughts again.
“…it’s getting late,” is what Akechi ultimately said. “Um. If you can procure the extra bedding, I can start setting up the couch…”
“You’ll take the futon,” Ren said, and Akechi laughed weakly.
“It’s cold,” he protested. “And there’s no power… you’ll freeze on the couch without any heat.”
“And you won’t?”
“That’s… well…”
“Sleep next to me,” Ren said. “I got a bunch of money from interrogating shadows in Mementos and used it to buy a new futon, so I promise it’s comfy. Big, too.”
“Just… just to sleep?” Akechi asked.
“Just to sleep,” Ren promised.
“…okay,” Akechi said, letting his arm drop to his side. “You’ve convinced me.”
They moved around the room quietly, Ren procuring something for Akechi to wear to bed, studiously turning his back while he changed, and then blowing out the candles, sending wisps of smoke up into the air. They climbed into bed, each painfully aware of the space between them until Ren rolled over, wrapping an arm tentatively around Akechi’s waist. Akechi tensed in his arms, and he held his breath, but then Akechi relaxed, pressing his back against Ren’s chest, and in the dark, Ren smiled.
Yes, there was a layer of ice beneath Akechi’s skin, dangerous and hidden, but tonight, if Ren held him close enough, perhaps that ice could begin to melt.