Chapter Text
Winter truly is a shit season, isn’t it?
Bloodshot eyes gazed down at the cold tiled floor as Akechi twirled his last unlit cigarette in his left hand dejectedly, legs tucked under him and head perched on his crossed arms as the winter snow outside settled. The unforgiving weather made his already vile residence even more unbearable, he was currently living in the basement of an old nightclub and the owner, Takahashi despite not knowing him at all, was kind enough to reassure him a job and with a place to stay...
The basement was barely something to look at- there was simply a single futon accompanied by a small table, a portable refrigerator and a mat. His other stuff laid scattered on the floor, some clothing and trivial stuff, not what he wanted.
Akechi’s legs shook as he stood from his spot and drew a lighter as the remaining cigarette ignited, he grabbed his tattered coat from the futon and stepped out in the frigid cold heading to the store four blocks away. Goosebumps decorated his skin underneath the aged-old clothing and shivers numbing his limbs, he trudged considering he needed to buy groceries or else he goes a week with no food, his spending habits having turned careless and unpredictable with how little he has in the first place.
Akechi was not foreign to the feeling of hunger, matter of fact, having little access to food when growing up in foster homes, useless and undeserving. Even when he had control over his intake, he would rather have takeout or sushi than cook for himself but most of the time he would simply forget, his fridge rarely full even during his time as the second Detective Prince. He does not miss that life, not. one. bit. The Detective Prince was merely a mask and whoever fell for it, was a fool and a blathering idiot.
Kurusu did not fall for it...
No. It’s been years, 4 years exactly since that dreadful day. Kurusu has no doubt moved on and settled down with one of the plethora of girls he surrounds himself with. No doubt living his best life after what happened to Shido. Perhaps still in contact with the rest of the Phantom Thieves and Yoshizawa?
No time for dwelling in the past, its all in the past.
The local store’s bell jingled as he stepped through with a hazy glance towards the cashier and grabbed a basket with that, he sped walked towards the bread aisle. He did not take long to find what he needs with a basket barely full of a loaf brown bread, strawberry jam, apples, hot cocoa and store sushi in tow.
“Same old things again, Akechi? You sure have lost some muscle, maybe you add some protein would benefit ya?” The cashier, also the owner of the store tilted her head as she scanned the bread. Her tone concerned, looking up at Akechi but diverts her eyes when their stares meet and he chuckled out hollowly, cut only off by small coughs as he says.
“You don’t need to fake concern for me. I know how to take care of myself enough so spare the attention for some other fool.” Akechi responded with a grin so wide that his gums were visible and stretches out his slim arm, pointing towards the closed storage cabinet behind her.
“I’ll also have three packs of cigarettes as well.”
“That will be ¥6130 in total, would you also like a bag?”
“Yes.”
Greeting him back ‘home’ was nothing more than the untidy futon and the usual freezing cold, his shoes and coat thoroughly drenched as a result of unexpected rain pouring on his way back from the grocery store. Akechi dumped the full plastic bag close to the small table and started shedding off the soaked articles of clothing, cold tremors throwing him off balance and nearly tripping over said clothing as he hurried off to the bathroom.
The bathroom, being closer to the first floor, was warm as Akechi slipped into the shower. The nightclub would not be opening until later in the evening with that Takahashi will be checking in on him as today is his first day working for the nightclub, having enough of relying on someone... and he needed the extra money as well.
The shift was rather eventful, as the guest band for the night was an upcoming success and apparently news got out thus drawing in fans to pile themselves into the club. It was not until 5 am for the last two remaining clubbers to leave for Akechi to officially to close the club with a heavy sigh and retreated downstairs, ready to crawl onto the futon and pass out but he had to one cigarette to calm his fried nerves from the night.
He made sure to tap out the tip, throwing the cigarette bud deeper into the room and changed into a singular large T-shirt and finally, going to sleep at 7 am.
He was back here again, his grip on the sleek black object tightening as he could see the dead guard’s body on the cement floor, bleeding. Akechi could hear rasping gasps, turning his head and staring at him. Beaten up, face bruised up and hands cuffed together giving no escape. Silver unfocused eyes glance upwards towards him, the gasping mouth breathing out one-word Akechi did not want to hear.
“...Akechi..?”
Blank maroon eyes only glare back as he could feel a maddening grin split his face as he rose his gun, leveling it at Kurusu’s forehead.
“Case closed...This is how your “justice” ends...” Akechi pulled the trigger and watched the bullet as if in slow motion, pierce the younger teen’s skin and lodged itself in his skull. Akechi watched as Kurusu keeled forwards in the steel chair and a sickening crunch rang through the air as his head roughly hit the table, flooding it with bright red blood. Akechi watches in disgust as he pokes the now dead younger boy in the head, and he could feel bile rise in his throat-
Akechi tumbled to the floor, dragging the bed sheet with him and his chest felt like it was about to explode from exertion as he proceeded to heave up stomach acid beside his head. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. He needs to breathe. One...two...three...
...eight... nine...
...ten.
Clearly, today was not meant to be his day as he found out that the bread, he bought not only 4 days ago having grown mold and resulting to throw it out, leaving only apples and the cocoa powder left. That is not including his one pack of cigarettes on the table, that is. Not like that would count as food to most. He needed to get out of this repulsive basement and leave the recurring dream-nightmare? behind. The snow having cleared the night before, but still as cold wind came bustling in from the north, Akechi went outside for the first time in 3 days.
He did not expect what happened next.
"Akechi-kun?"
Fuck.
Akechi should not have come here, shock quickly washed over him and leveled him to the stool, unable to move. He regrets coming at all and his dumb nostalgia for the damn place, brought him sitting on a bar stool in Jazz Jin with a half-full cocktail in hand. His third one at this point... He should have returned to the bleak and barren basement with his newly bought pack of cigarettes and gum.
Footsteps come near, stopping right beside the table hesitantly as a soft voice rang out, jolting Akechi out of his dread.
“I-I.. you’re here. Alive.” Kurusu’s voice came out hushed, as if he was unsure of himself- his hands glide over to grab the free stool across the table and right before he could, Akechi bolted upwards and slammed his hands hard against the solid wood surface, face burning and panicked eyes flashing, he quickly grabbed his belongings and fled away from Kurusu. Akechi slammed right through the door, his half-full cocktail on the floor and Kurusu left behind.