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Whether a product of nature or nurture, solitary life has come easily to Akechi for as long as he can remember. His adolescence has been punctuated with long nights studying and preparing for interviews, honing his skills through Metaverse jobs. In the spotlight, he is placed on a pedestal or posed as a target for the public's frustration but always to be observed from a distance. In his limited personal relationships, a handful of would-be confidants, his lies shield him like a pane of glass.
Although there are few charitable things he can say about himself these days, he will readily profess that, in general, he is quite self-sufficient. There's a certain degree of simplicity in having to focus on nothing but one's own abilities and objectives, never having to keep track of the condition or whereabouts of allies - only those on the opposite side of the table.
During his brief stint posing as a Phantom Thief, he gained experience playing a teammate, but hardly had the opportunity to engage in anything that could qualify as true combat. The bulk of that job had been performative - a dance, to dazzle and mislead and force their guards down so that he could strike. He hadn't performed quite as well as he would have liked, in the end.
The situation is different now. Pretenses have shifted. They've made an agreement - a strategic choice given the insanity surrounding them, but not without drawbacks. Ren is not accustomed to working without an arsenal of friends at his back, and Akechi is not accustomed to working alongside Ren. Their coordination is seamless most of the time, but Ren's presence during battle makes Akechi feel a little like he's speed-skating: graceful and swift, wild and unchained, until the slightest misstep sends him hurtling face-first into the ice.
And Ren is distracting, for a variety of reasons.
Maybe that's why he lets himself get hit, square in the chest by a Chimera of all things. In the long moment before the attack, he remembers being struck by curiosity more than anything: how the fuck does this hybrid weakling know Diamond Dust? But it does, and it lands, and it sticks around, even after Joker slits the beast's throat with a swift flick of his dagger and it dissolves into shadow.
In the seconds following, Akechi can't make out whether he's burning or freezing, numb or wracked with pain. All he knows for certain is that there is a connection blocked from his brain to his body, and that the only movement he can manage is violent shuddering, fully out of his conscious control. After Joker's magic, he still can't quell the shaking but he can actuate other movement of his limbs to a degree, slowly, through molasses. He watches, detached, as Joker threads an arm under his own shoulders and drags them to the nearest safe room without the sensation of touch ever reaching his nerves.
---
His shaking hands move for his helmet and Joker only lets him struggle for a second before stepping forward to assist. In any other moment he would have wrenched away before strong, careful hands could reach his face, but ice running through his veins keeps him stuck in place as Ren gingerly unhooks the attachment mechanism and doesn't even try to conceal the pity on display in his furrowed brow at the shivering grimace underneath the mask.
"Stop... looking... at me... like that... Joker," he grits out through chattering teeth.
"My bad," Ren mumbles and looks down to dig through his pockets. He emerges with a full pack of hand warmalizers and begins removing the packaging from them one by one.
"These work better when they're applied directly. Do you want to, or..."
Ren hasn't looked up from his task, and Akechi appreciates the privacy granted by lack of eye contact, short-lived as it is.
"I... can manage."
But getting the gauntlets off proves to be a battle of its own, and then his fingers are numb and clumsy around his buttons. The scrutiny grows unbearable; he lets out a shivery sigh and concedes with a wave of his hand, beckoning Ren closer.
Ren works quickly and methodically, button by button, tearing the fabric away to reveal the pale, goose-pimpled flesh of Akechi's chest marred by a deep purple starburst on his sternum. He removes the adhesive from the warmalizers and places them deliberately over the soft, frigid flesh of his trembling hips and stomach, up along his ribs to the sensitive skin of the pulse point on his neck. The faint brush of Ren's fingers makes his blood pressure spike as his heart tries to race, but the warmth barely makes a dent in the ice. Neither does hot coffee, nor healing magic. Nor, to Akechi's utter humiliation, Ren pressing his own body close, rubbing his bare hands furiously over Akechi's bare back, as if friction were the magical solution to this little pickle. By the time he gives up, Ren is flushed from exertion and Akechi is certain that no one will be leaving this room with any reasonable amount of dignity.
Akechi shrugs his arms back into his sleeves. It takes a tremendous amount of effort to keep his body still and voice level, but they've done what they can now and it is time for action. This is certainly not the worst he's experienced, and it is preposterous to even consider sacrificing their mission on behalf of someone who probably isn't even real in the first place. He fixes Joker with as solid a look as he can. "Let's move. We're on a deadline. There's no more time to waste."
Ren narrows his eyes and slowly turns to face Akechi. "I'm not letting you go back out there like this." He's using his leader voice, the one he uses to give commands during battle. It's rare for him to pull it out during a discussion, but when he does he stands visibly taller. Joker is infuriating, using the extra inches granted by those ridiculous heels he wears in the Metaverse to loom over Akechi. Like he thinks he has the power to intimidate him.
"Are you insane? You're actually suggesting that we let this farce of a reality take effect because I'm c-cold?" He cringes at the stutter in his voice and shivers it away.
"You're not just cold. You're practically immobile. We're going to call it a day, and I'm going to call Maruki to ask for an extension."
Akechi feels fire flash behind his eyes. Too bad it can't reach the rest of his frozen form. "An extension? This isn't a school assignment, Joker."
"No, but going further isn't an option. Don't jeopardize the mission out of pride, Crow. You have to trust me."
"I suppose I have no choice," he mutters, studying a spot near his left shoe.
Ren has an impressive poker face, but Akechi sees him flinch at that choice of words. It seems, at least, he understands how much Akechi despises being backed into a corner and cares enough to feel guilty about being the one doing the trapping.
"I really am sorry this happened. But I think Maruki will be understanding. And we could try to get you warmed up the old fashioned way, at the bathhouse."
Akechi tries to make sense of the tentative eagerness in Ren's voice, and concludes that he must be going for reassuring. He rolls his eyes.
"Fine. Let's go then." He taps his phone and the walls around them dissolve away.
---
The outside world's January chill is not doing Akechi any favors. Outside of the cognitive effects of the Palace, he has gained slightly more control over his limbs, but still every trembling breath burns in his lungs and sinuses. He pulls his coat and scarf tight around his shivering body and sneezes into his elbow.
Ren, meanwhile, paces in a tight circle with his phone to his ear. Akechi can barely make out the garble of Maruki's voice through the line.
"Oh, Ren-kun! To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Hey. Uh, we ran into some trouble in your Palace, Akechi's still fighting a status effect. Any chance we could meet Thursday instead?"
"I'm so sorry to hear that! Certainly! Take all the time you need. I don't want anyone to be feeling poorly during our discussion." Akechi can't resist a disgusted groan at that. Maruki is loving this, reveling in the opportunity to be so kind and accommodating. As if he isn't responsible for this whole mess in the first place. Ren shoots a sympathetic look his way.
"Thanks, see you then."
"Of course. Please tell Akechi-kun I hope he has a smooth and speedy recov-!" Ren ends the call and stares at his phone for a moment. Akechi catches a glimpse of Morgana on the lock screen, a fuzzy vestige of reality holding on by a thread.
"Well. I suppose your prediction of Maruki's behavior was reasonably accurate."
"Yeah. Least we don't have to panic about the deadline now. Head to Yongen?"
"After you, leader." Ren's face falls, barely, but enough for Akechi to catch. It's petty to snap at him like that, to poke at his weak spot, but Akechi's patience with this frivolous roadblock in their plans is running thin and his bones itch for an enemy to take it out on. Ren is the only one in sight.
---
The journey to Yongen-jaya from Odaiba involves two subway transfers. By the first, Akechi's mood is on track from annoyance to fury. The ice is stuck in him like shrapnel. He would give his right hand to be able to end the shivering and sniffling. He's certain that his complexion is cold-flushed and unattractive. He must look absurd, pathetic. He lowers his face into his scarf, unassuming as possible, relieved for a moment that no one in this reality seems to remember the second coming of the Detective Prince.
Ren stands to his right, occasionally bumping their shoulders together and sneaking soft, concerned looks in his direction. Akechi shudders with another tired, pitiful sneeze, and Ren reaches into his pocket to wordlessly proffer a pack of tissues. Out of principle, Akechi wants desperately to refuse, but he accepts them anyway with a nod of thanks and blows his nose with all of the force his slender frame can muster.
By the second, his entire body aches with pins and needles, zipping through his nerves. The walk within Shibuya station is agony, but he channels the pain and frustration to move his feet forward as quickly as they can manage. By Yongen-jaya, the tissues are gone along with any tolerance he might have once had for the day, for this stupid status effect and his own tenuous existence in this stupid, broken world. Spite fuels him the rest of the way to the bathhouse and he releases his full strength on the door, swinging it into the wall with a loud whap. Out of the corner of his eye, already halfway to the locker room, he glimpses Ren nodding a silent apology and handing payment to the attendant. Internally Akechi scoffs at Ren and his propensity for unnecessary gestures; she's far too absorbed in her magazine to be bothered.
Ren has only just secured a locker as Akechi exits the shower and lowers himself into the bath with trembling arms. He settles across the tub from an old man he recognizes from his last visit, then after a moment of consideration gives the hot water tap a generous pull, letting it run freely. He watches the man's face redden deeper and deeper until finally, with a huff, he shuffles to the lockers.
Alone again, he lets out a careful sigh. Objectively, it must be boiling him alive, but the water does relieve the symptoms of the status effect. At last he can relax his muscles without his bones trying to rattle their way out of his skin. The sharp prick of heat dissolves into his body, melting the ice little by little, easing the way shards twang the fibers of his muscles.
Ren drops his towel with Joker's flourish, then grins as he lowers himself in next to Akechi.
"There's no keeping up with you in here today, huh."
"There's no need Joker, I know this temperature isn't pleasant. There will be no hard feelings if you choose to sit this one out and save yourself the trouble."
"No way." Ren slides closer and slips his arm around Akechi's middle. Akechi's eyes widen. "I'd never let my rival down like that." Akechi feels a weight land on his shoulder, smells coffee and coconut shampoo.
"Hmph." Suddenly the bath feels too warm, but Akechi was never one to back down from a challenge, no matter how imprudent. He leans toward Ren, returning the embrace, the touch finally breaking through pleasantly to his numbed senses.
---
A dizzy walk to the locker room and two Yakults later, they make their way to Leblanc beneath overcast sky. Out of the warm embrace of the tub, in the winter evening air, Akechi feels another shiver wrack through his body. And almost immediately, the pressure of heavy fabric falling on his shoulders. Yet another unnecessary gesture; it's hardly a five minute walk from the bath to the cafe, but at Akechi's incredulous look, Ren just shrugs, matter-of-fact. "I'm warm." It's not worth arguing.
Akechi keeps the coat over his shoulders as Ren heats leftover curry in the dim light of the past-closed cafe, as he pours Akechi's favorite blend into the coffee siphon, as he delivers the meal to the bar along with a book of crossword puzzles and a pen. With Akechi's hands still a little shaky, Ren offers his steady ones, writes as Akechi dictates and occasionally fills in the blanks himself.
"Absorbs the most light," Ren reads from the list of clues.
Akechi pauses, looks up from his curry to consider for a minute, hand to his chin. He thinks of the times he'd crawled into his father's black limo on a sweltering summer day, the door handle burning his hand and the seats sticking to his arms.
"I believe the answer is black. It's funny," he muses, hand still in deductive position, "given the symbolism of black in most storytelling as a representation of evil, and white as a representation of good. One would think that white would be the warmest color, but it seems that the truth is not so, pardon me, black and white."
Ren chuckles as he writes in the answer. "I think you're right. You'd... know about that, huh."
"I suppose so. We both do, I think."
Ren leans his cheek into his palm and fixes Akechi with a look that is far too fond. "It's weird how white Maruki's palace is. It makes sense, he's always trying to do good. But his concept of good is fake and sterile."
"How..." Akechi breaks for a moment. Considers his words. "How do you know he's trying to do good? How do you know he doesn't just want control?"
Ren pauses, parses Akechi's expression. "I don't. It's a gut feeling."
"But you do agree that he's caused more harm than good. Even in the lives of your friends?"
Ren winces at the mention of them. Akechi takes a second to wonder where Ren's cat-turned-pop-star roommate might be at this hour, presumes he must be playing shadow to Takamaki since he doesn't possess the wealth required to eat his weight in sushi.
This is why it's easier to be alone. Make your peace with being abandoned, and you'll never be disappointed when everyone inevitably leaves you. And yet, here Ren is, mourning the absence of imbeciles like Takamaki and Sakamoto and a cat.
"I... I honestly don't know. It's creepy. Morgana as a human and people who are dead in our reality, alive and kicking. Madarame and Okumura being supportive parents. And my friends are totally oblivious. But I think about what's right and fair and... my main objection is selfish. I'm creeped out, and I'm lonely. Who am I to say they shouldn't have the things they wished for?"
Akechi has low expectations for the Thieves, but they've managed to disappoint him still, doing this to Ren.
"I don't believe that decision should be yours to make, I think Maruki is an absolute pig for putting you in that position, and from my perspective your teammates' recent behavior has not rendered them deserving of such consideration." Akechi takes a long sip of coffee to cleanse his palate. "Even assuming that he has the best of intentions, that lunatic has committed to far more than he is capable of managing. When the world comes crashing down, it will take even more of a toll on your friends for having experienced the loss a second time. It's in their best interests to shatter the illusion now, before it sets in."
"But they're my friends, I care about them. Choosing to reject this world is choosing their unhappiness. So maybe that makes me the villain. Especially when I didn't have any wishes to grant."
Akechi tenses. Ren places his hand on the tightness between his shoulder blades.
"Sorry, I know you hate this. I get that, and I hate it too. I just also hate feeling selfish."
"I know what you mean." Another shiver chooses that moment to run up and down Akechi's spine, as he looks Ren in the eye, gentle pressure still on his back. It doesn't feel related to the status effect.
Ren retrieves his hand and scrubs it across the back of his neck. "Hey, you still look cold. Uh. Maybe you could stay here tonight. I've got a heater and blankets, and it might be nice not to be alone."
Maybe if the roles had been reversed, Akechi would have seen it as pity. But in the moment, he thinks that this is the most he's ever heard Ren say about his own emotions in one sitting. He looks at the boy next to him and sees someone deeply vulnerable and so beautiful, asking for help under the guise of offering it, and Akechi wants nothing more than to comply. Ren rarely asks for things for himself, but here he is so lonely that he doesn't even mind that it's his own murderer keeping him company.
And maybe it's Akechi's own selfishness, too, the dam holding back all of his neediness having been worn down and cracked by the weight of ice melt and the coat over his shoulders, that forces him forward so that his hand can meet Ren's at the back of his neck, and slowly presses their lips together when he doesn't pull away. And whispers yes against Ren's mouth as they close the distance between each other, and locks the door with them both inside, and flips off the light, and wanders up to the attic.
And later, when they're trapped under the warmth of several layers of blankets and the heat of one another, drifting together, when Akechi feels a soft press of lips to the crown of his head and a whisper of I love you, Goro spoken with no intent of being heard, maybe it's cruel to allow the illusion to go unshattered. To just let his heart warm and swell and race and glide, without considering the consequences.
---
The next morning is like waking up after a night of drinking. A blur of bad decisions, a mess of their own making. Ren feels it too, apparently, the way he's turning over and over at the first hint of dawn.
On the next turn he locks eyes with Akechi and tries to head off the tension there. "You're worried that I'll be swayed and accept Maruki's offer, right? I won't. I realized I did have a wish, and ironically it kind of makes me feel better to know that I'm giving something up myself."
Goro's heart hangs by a thread in his chest. Ren knows? When had he figured it out? He poises his voice carefully, as neutral as possible.
"What was your wish?"
"Well. You, I think." Hmm. "You were in prison, and then you were mysteriously released right when all of the other weird stuff happened. And I wished the world would understand that the situation you were in wasn't so black-and-white. Wished they wouldn't just paint you as the villain for being involved."
"I see." Something uncomfortable turns in Akechi's chest, under the bruise from the Chimera, where a bullet hole is conspicuously absent. His own sense of justice chimes in his mind, reminds him that nothing is ever this easy, that it shouldn't be this easy to be simply forgiven for all of his mistakes and crimes and the pain he's caused. Not to mention that Ren doesn't quite have all of the information.
Plus, he's a little offended that Ren would think so little of him. Akechi isn't stupid. He knows he didn't have an unlimited amount of agency when it came to the conspiracy, even if he wanted desperately to believe he did at the time. But it's necessary to atone for his crimes, and he's willing. He's actively sought out the opportunities, the duty to restore reality among them. Ren should understand that he'd taken that knowledge into account when making his decision.
"I don't think it's fair that you're locked up in the true reality either. And when we get back I'm going to do what I can to get you out, just like my friends would have done for me if you hadn't shown up on Christmas Eve." Determination shines in his eyes. Akechi's chest aches. Bitter burns in the back of his throat.
"I'm... counting on you to make the right choice. I trust you not to let me down, Joker."
---
The truth comes out several weeks later.
Maruki sits across the booth from Ren as he explains, keeping the easy, impossibly reasonable tone of voice that he always employs when he's saying something absurd.
"That's why I created a reality where you two could have a fresh start together."
Ren's expression as the realization hits makes Akechi feel like he's thrown back three weeks, receiving an icy bolt to the chest all over again.
"Furthermore, I wanted to give Akechi-kun an opportunity to receive care from a trusted friend. To understand what it feels like to be loved and valued. Perhaps the ice hit harder than intended, but it did seem to do the trick."
Akechi watches Ren return to a careful neutral, unable to choose between shock, hurt, and anger.
Morgana takes the opportunity to connect the dots, shock clear in the lines of his feline features. "Wait, so it was you? You made that Chimera attack them? And that would mean the Akechi in the real world is..."
Maruki does his best impression of a kicked puppy. "I never intended to do any harm. I simply wanted to allow you to experience the potential that this reality has for you, if you choose to accept it."
He continues with some bullshit about how he never intended to tell them like this, he doesn't want it to seem like he's holding Akechi hostage, dangling his life as a carrot in front of them, while he does precisely that. Akechi can't stay silent any longer and the words trip their way out of his mouth.
"And that matters how, exactly?"
Ren's dumbfounded stare, the look of betrayal, hits hard, but Akechi steers into the skid. He's learned that in the face of power any weakness is a liability, and although he's pretending to be blameless in all of this, Maruki is certainly the one abusing his power here. Akechi has to stay strong.
"You knew..." Ren whispers in Akechi's direction.
He offers his explanation, arms crossed over the bruise on his chest, training his voice with far more confidence than is genuine. Ren continues to stare at Akechi even after Maruki interrupts, pesters him again for an answer and tries to manipulate him with flattery and sentiment. Where Akechi fights with posturing, Ren fights with complete neutrality, retreating so far into himself that he practically becomes a statue. Eventually Maruki gives up and turns to leave. Ren breaks his stare to flip the calling card across the table, then returns his focus to Akechi, as if he's afraid that if he looks away for too long Akechi will dissolve into nothing the way a shadow would.
The chime clangs as Maruki exits Leblanc, and then it's just the two of them and the cat. Thankfully, Morgana gets the hint and skulks out as well, not before staring at the two of them with an unnatural amount of sympathy.
Ren's face remains even as he turns to face Akechi, but the shine in his eyes gives him away. "I should have known you wouldn't tell me. All of that shit about how it's cruel to leave people in the dark, and of course you knew you were dead the whole time and just let me hold on to that shred of hope."
"I didn't want to influence your decision and I didn't know for su-"
"You seemed pretty damn sure in front of Maruki."
"Yes, well he thinks that he has leverage. Perhaps it's an advantage to let him keep believing that." Akechi wishes he were telling the truth.
"Sure." Ren sighs, considers, adjusts his glasses. From his spot at the bar Akechi watches Joker select his moment to act.
"There's no more time for lies, Goro. I love you. I don't want to lose you again." Akechi doesn't know how Ren could possibly be telling the truth but doesn't know what he'd gain by lying at this point.
"I know. I..." None of this is fair. Ren doesn't deserve to be hurt like this. Akechi probably deserves to hurt like this, but he hates that he's dragged Ren into it too, that he hadn't been strong enough to push him away and spare him the pain when he'd had the chance. Still, it doesn't matter - just or not, the fact is that the fate of world lies on their shoulders, for the second time in as many months. He presses his palm into his forehead.
"God, Ren, you're such a self-sabotaging fool. You know that for so long, all I wanted was to hurt you. To defeat you, watch as you realized how much better than you I am, and then ensure that you never had another thought again. I fantasized about it, I smiled when I shot you, I... our true reality benefits from my absence."
"You're wrong."
"I wanted to hurt you and I failed. And now, I don't want to hurt you and I've failed again." As much as he tries, he can't stop the way the words waver as they fall to the floor.
And Ren doesn't miss it either, because he lunges forward and throws his arms around Akechi's shoulders, plants his face in Akechi's neck.
"You didn't fail the first time." His voice is barely a mumble, muffled by Akechi's scarf.
"Hah. I seem to remember being the one who sustained fatal injuries."
"No, I mean. It hurt, seeing you hurt like that. And knowing you wanted to hurt me. I thought it wouldn't happen until it did and by that point it was too late. It hurt like hell, losing you. And God, I don't want to lose you again."
That uncharacteristic weakness suffusing Ren's voice, the tears seeping through his scarf - they send a jolt of panic through Akechi's spine. He needs to run, he needs to get out of here before he can get in any deeper. He needs to push Ren away, but he's frozen solid, he can't find the power to speak through his fear.
It undoes the only truly just decision I ever made on my own.
I can't be controlled again.
"Please, Ren." It comes out in a whisper. "I need to hear you say it aloud. What do you intend to do?"
"We're stopping Maruki." Ren is quiet, but certain and strong.
Relief floods through his bones and unbinds his arms; he wraps them tightly around Ren's waist, holding him close. He feels solid and warm.
The rest of the night passes in an instant. An impassioned monologue, cementing his resolve. A crackle of light, a new sense of self. An eager embrace, a press of lips. A night drifting off in each other's warmth, urgent with the knowledge that it might be the last. And in that moment of half-consciousness, a seed sprouts and grows tendrils in Akechi's heart. He doesn't deserve it. But he wants to live. He wants more time with Ren. The wisp of a wish echoes across the attic, born of the clarity of that desire. He writes it off as a weakness, but allows himself the indulgence because tomorrow it will not matter.
Tomorrow they will fight, and they will win. And things will be as they should.
---
He's not sure how it happens, but the details aren't important. Akechi wakes up in an alley outside of the Diet Building on the morning of February 4, 20XX, exhausted and filthy and cold, but conscious. In an abundance of caution, he keeps to the shadows, away from the prying eyes of any goons still bitter after Shido's fall. It would be quite a waste to give them the satisfaction of defeating him now, wouldn't it? Besides, there is work to do to uphold his justice. Ren will hurt during that time of uncertainty, but Akechi trusts to his core that his rival will endure and eventually understand.
He can't help but formulate a theory of his own about his survival. Knowing the cognitive world and its penchant for being shaped by desire, his mind returns to that moment on the night of February 2nd when he allowed himself a moment of weakness and released a wish into the ether. Ren, sentimental fool that he is, was almost certainly wishing for the same thing. When it comes to twisting the Metaverse, the combined cognitive pull of two tricksters is certainly enough to overpower the whims of his bastard father. But it's just a theory after all, and now, with that plane existing only in the memories of a select few, it's unlikely that any evidence for the method will surface. A scarred-over bullet wound has replaced the bone bruise on his chest: evidence that he'd lived through the true past and survived, and that is enough.
Another thought occurs as he huddles over his notebook in the corner of a nondescript cafe, sipping mediocre coffee and mapping out the steps of his new life. Assuming his theory is true and his survival of the destruction of Maruki's reality was dependent on his own desire, then Maruki and his manipulation perhaps - he cringes at the thought - held responsibility for his being here now. If not for that unfortunate incident in early January, wouldn't he have been strong enough to keep Ren at arm's length and never allow himself the indulgence? It's sickening to think that Maruki had a hand in Akechi's survival, simply by wearing him down. But maybe it was the two of them at the core. There would always be forces trying to weaken them, but he and Ren alone had the power to tear the fabric of reality in the act of choosing to maintain it.
If he had to rely on someone, he's glad to have relied on Ren.
On March 20th, Akechi sends a message from a brand new number. On your left, Joker. He stands on a train platform, proud and solid and alive, and locks eyes with Ren through the window. A thrill of potential traces the length of his spine as he absorbs the smirk shining through the glass, can almost trace the lines of a black and white domino mask around his eyes. Darkness and light reflecting between the two of them and a wishful feeling, linking their hearts together as the train fades into the horizon.