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Wednesday 16th November
(Night time)
He steps into the aroma of exotic, ground coffee and fruity curry expectantly. It’s a Wednesday and they’re taking a break from their mission. Half of him is disappointed and the other is mysteriously glad. He wants to get this over with, the next move will end it all, finally. Not exactly, but it will be the catalyst.
“Evening Akechi,” he hears and he looks past the counter to the old man standing there. Sojiro Sakura, he was reading something but now he’s observing the young detective from above his glasses, wondering why he’s hovering at the door. Akechi takes a step forward, he plasters a pleasant smile across his face.
“Good evening, Sakura!” He says and makes a show of looking about, “I was hoping_”
The bell chimes and it startles him slightly, Sojiro raises a brow and turns to the door. His shoulders seem to relax and he smiles, fondly. Akechi feels sick with jealousy.
“Ah, you’re back,” Sojiro smiles, “did you have fun?”
“You could say that,” Ren Amamiya enters. His eyes were on Akechi. Akechi stared back, he is not sure why he feels so caught off guard. Amamiya continues, “I think Yusuke and Futaba had more fun though, I became a third wheel and a bag holder in one go.”
Sojiro hummed, he almost chuckled, “is that right? Did she get home safe?” He glanced at Akechi, still standing there, an odd boy, “sit down, kid, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Akechi did his best not to jump at the man’s observation. His heart was hammering in his chest and he felt himself blush at his sudden lack of composure, sliding into a booth and clutching a small box tightly in his hands. He listened as Ren, no Amamiya, explained that he’d walked that loud, irritating girl, Sakura’s first sympathy case, back to her home. Sakura seemed pleased and told Amamiya he’d fix him something to eat because, “you must be hungry.”
The boy refused, claiming he’d already eaten. Amamiya flopped down tiredly across from Akechi and was letting Morgana loose from his bag. Akechi watched him with narrowed eyes. He hated him. How dare he look so broody and quiet when everything seemed to be going so perfectly for him? Wherever the guy went he seemed to find a new person to love and idolise him. Akechi knew, he’d tailed him around enough and he’d asked enough of the Phantom Thief Leader’s various confidants about him to see that Amamiya’s followers came in all shapes and sizes. As soon as the questions put their beloved idol at the centre stage however, they’d be cagey and act as if they wanted to protect his privacy. Akech bit the inside of his cheek. Why, though? What was it about him that captured so many people?
The boy in question smiled serenely up from his seat, attention directing away from Morgana who was asking if he’d be okay while the cat went for a stroll.
Akechi held up the little box, he forced his voice to be calm and free of the internal disgust that was curling up within him, “I was thinking we could squeeze in a game of chess.”
Usually, Amamiya would nod and go along with Akechi’s desires. He’d follow along without complaint, it was almost irritating. Akechi wished he didn’t have to smile at him, he wished he could taunt and press him until he got a rise out of him. He wanted desperately to see Amamiya’s perfect porcelain crack so that he could watch this infalible person struggle with something. His mouth pressed together as the boy shook his head minutely. Two cups of coffee appeared in front of them.
“Actually,” Amamiya said, head briefly angling up to Sakura by way of saying thank you with that… familiar and content smile that was caught between his lips. He looked back at Akechi, “have you played shogi?”
“Sh-shogi?” Akechi cursed internally, he was off his game today, maybe he should just go home. No, he snarled at himself, don’t be so pathetic. “I have,” he said finally, straightening a little, “why do you ask?”
“I was given a board and pieces by a friend-“ Akechi scoffed, of course, Amamiya is gifted everything. If they could, his friends would give him their souls. Though he hid the emotion behind the mug as he brought it to his lips. Amamiya continued, completely unaware of the barbed thoughts the young detective was circulating, “-it’d be a nice change to play something different.”
Akechi looked forward to their chess matches. This felt like Amamiya was throwing a spanner in his routine just to spite him, he put the cup down. Amamiya watched expectantly as Akechi knew he was taking far too long to agree to such a simple and reasonable request. He has to force himself to agree to it.
“If that’s what you want,” he says and Amamiya smirks at the petulance in Akechi’s tone and the brunette winces that he’d even allowed it to slip through.
Amamiya disappears from in front of him, trotting up the stairs into the attic. Akechi watches after him as he leaves. He’s never been invited into the attic. He wants to know how his rival lives, where he rests, where he studies and where he sleeps. He feels like he needs to see Ren Amamiya’s sanctuary. He’s not sure why. Amamiya takes a little longer than expected before he returns again, board in hand. He doesn’t explain why he took so long.
He sets the board up and they begin to play. Akechi has played shogi before, though he’s not overly keen. Chess, he prefers; once you secure a route to victory, the routine becomes more simple the more pieces you conquer. Shogi is different. Your enemy can use your own pieces against you. He’s left slack jawed as he is slain so easily and looks up at the raven-haired male in accusatory disdain. Amamiya looks pleased with himself, and Akechi wants to strangle him.
“We could play again,” Amamiya smiles, amused, “you might beat me this time.”
“I don’t want to play again,” Akechi says and his rival laughs lightly. It aggravates Akechi but he can’t help but feel like making this boy laugh is an achievement. It’s a nice sound, it’s comfortable and soft. He shakes his head at that thought, disappointed in himself.
“Not as fun when you get beat?
Akechi let’s his irritation soften, no use in being a bad sport, “it’s all well and dandy, winning at your own game.”
“Isn’t that what you do?” Amamiya asked and Akechi blinked up at him for a moment in confusion, it sounded like Amamiya was saying something else.
“I don’t know what you_”
“I’m locking up,” Sojiro called over, shrugging off his apron, “don’t forget you have school tomorrow. The both of you.”
Akechi jumped at being included in that, he peered over at the man along with Amamiya who waved a goodnight to his guardian. He turned back. The boy was finishing his coffee off, and Akechi observed as he looked down into the dregs of the mugs thoughtfully, a somber expression tainted the steel in his eye. Akechi couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in his mind. He opened his mouth to ask but no words came out. He then felt incredibly stupid. Why was he even here? In a few days the existence in front of him will be just a cold lump of nothing. A space taken in the morgue soon to be burned into ashes and forgotten like everything that was out of sight and out of mind. In a few days, the friendships he had kindled just by associating with Ren Amamiya would snuff out of existence the moment he was seen smiling about it. And he would smile, he told himself sternly at the flicker of fear and hesitation. He’d enjoy it, he wanted to end this pitiful existence in front of him, this means to an end.
He’d revel in the quiet that Amamiya cocky, stuck up right-hand strategist would emit. He might even visit Niijima-san for tea just to watch her younger sister grieve and suffer. He couldn’t wait to see how the unruly and delinquent, Ryuji Sakamoto would unravel. He imagined the unwinding of a monster without the quiet support of Amamiya around. Would Sakamoto give into his primal urges of unleashing anger on those he perceived as deserving it? Would Haru Okumera neglect her plants in her misery? Would the vulgar Takamaki girl with her insidious blue eyes and plastic smile melt and whither at the loss of another friend? How would the artist react? Would he capture his agony in angry brush strokes or lose motivation all together? How about Sakura and his daughter? What will they do?
The three had become a little family unit. Akechi grunted scornfully, that was the foulest of all. Sojiro Sakura, taking in this loser, this piece of trash like it had any value, any hope and any future and trying to squeeze it into his ball of clay despite the whole thing being a farce. He thinks he might come for some coffee after he’s done the deed. Akechi wants to see their dejection and grief warp over the weeks before finally resigning to the loss and forgetting about Ren Amamiya. He only wishes you could speak to the dead, he would ask Amamiya then, how does it feel to know everyone’s forgetting you?
Shido won’t leave loose ends, Akechi thinks. Maybe he’ll tell Amamiya that before he puts a bullet in him, maybe he’ll tell him how he’s going to destroy everything he’s created over these few months and watch the horror burn in his eyes and finally, finally Ren Amamiya will look at Akechi with the hateful expression Akechi wants from him. Not the gentle, kind understanding that makes him sick with hatred.
“Want to watch a movie?”
Akechi jolts at the question, eyebrows raising in surprise, “sorry?”
Amamiya put a hand to the back of his neck, he looked a little embarrassed, “I have an old television in my room and a DVD player, so we could watch an old film or something.”
Or something. Akechi twitches. I was just thinking about how I want to destroy your life. “It’s a bit late,” he mumbles.
“I know,” Amamiya shrugs and plays with that irritating piece of hair still shielding his eyes, “-it just looks like you could use some company.”
“What?”
“Well,” Amamamiya looks uncertain and Akechi gapes, his cheeks are warm, he realises. He raises a hand and touches the soft flesh under his eye and feels himself burn in embarrassment. He’s not quite crying, but the wetness is a warning that he’s on the precipice of collapse.
“I could make you another coffee,” Amamiya suggests, “but maybe a film might be a distraction for you?”
“I don’t need distraction,” Akechi snarls and flinches as the rawness of his words, he hadn’t meant to let himself say it like that. He looks shamefully up at his rival who is watching him calmly. He hates him. He hates the peaceful lake of grey behind that gaze, he hates that it feels like even the rain won’t disturb the water. He hates that he can’t hit it with a stone, just to see the surface wobble. He’s gripping the mug too tightly, his knuckles are white and his chest is thrumming.
“It feels,” Akechi decides to admit, because he’s sure he’s about to explode, “it feels like everything is so perfect with you.”
Amamiya’s eyes shoot up in surprise, Akechi smiles sardonically, glad he caught him somewhat off-guard tonight. He didn’t need to be here.
“Oh,” Amamiya blushed a little, “that’s… I,” he laughed hollow and awkward, “I don’t know what to say to that.”
Akechi slumped, he said bitterly, “you don’t have to say anything.”
“Are you okay?”
The detective looked up, he felt tired actually. The earnest look in Amamiya’s eyes made him feel dejected and he wondered for a moment when was the last time someone was looking at him like that? He wondered if this would be the last time. He wondered if maybe he should lean into this moment a little, if he should let Amamiya in on a fraction of the agony he was feeling. Maybe he’d understand then why Akechi was going to kill him and why he wasn’t going to hesitate when the moment finally came.
“I think,” he pauses and sees Amamiya waiting patiently for him and suddenly feels incredibly fearful of losing this moment. “I think it would be nice to watch a film with you.”
They head upstairs. Akechi looks around. He doesn’t know how to feel about this space. There are little, luminescent stars littering the eaves above him. He’s not sure why he notices this first. There is a shelf full of nik-naks and memorabilia. Akechi looks over at Amamiya, who is setting up the television, “I didn't think you were the sentimental type.”
Amamiya looks over at him, he gives a half shrug and a smile as if he didn’t know himself. There’s a Ramen bowl, he picks it up and looks curiously at the delicately hand-crafted decorations around its rim, like little fish swimming in a circle.
“Ryuji,” Amamiya said, switching wires between his game-station and the DVD player. He must be watching Akechi despite himself, the detective muses, “we were eating ramen together.”
“And the plush dolls?” Akechi looks at him and Amamiya smiles with a self conscious dip of his head. He asked about the Swan boat and balloons, but they were passed off as gifts from friends but not specified who exactly had gifted them. Akechi narrowed his eyes but didn’t press for the information, it didn’t matter anyway, though he found himself curious all the same. Akechi continues across the room and can’t contain a snort that there is a chocolate fountain, almost up to his shoulder in height, sitting as if on display in the corner. “What’s this?”
“That’ll be Ann,” Amamiya says, dragging a box of DVDs over.
Akechi nods, “I can only assume the statue was a gift from your artistic friend.”
“The stars too.”
Amamiya seemed to be watching with interest as Akechi lurked about his room, pointing at things and enquiring about them and nodding at the information. Akechi felt after a while that the other was waiting for him to sit down. He had a controller in his hand and had put bed sheets on the floor and against the bed for them to sit on. Akechi looked about once again, sponging it all in before sitting down next to him. The menu opened up and he saw Amamiya glance at him a few times as if he was wondering wordlessly if he'd picked an acceptable film before pressing play when his companion for the night said nothing. How could Akechi say anything to Ren Amamiya right now?
The light had been turned off so they could focus on the bright pictures in front of them but the stars still glowed along the rafters and Akechi felt so sick down to the pit of his stomach. He wondered… how quickly would Sojiro box all of Amamiya’s collection up? Would he leave it all here to gather dust? Despite being a humble storage room, it was so clean, so polished and everything, despite there being no order to what he owned, it all had been meticulously placed in a way that no matter where you stood, it felt like his friends were there in the room with him. Like someone trying to remind themselves they weren’t lonely. Akechi felt sick, he felt so sick and he felt hot tears run down his face. He became stiff, he couldn’t believe he was unraveling right now after so long. He leaned back slowly, hoping Amamiya was too engrossed to notice as he tried to hide himself. A moment later, his rival leaned back too and gently pressed his shoulder against Akechi’s. For a moment, it felt like Ren Amamiya knew he was going to die by Akechi Goro’s hands and he was telling Akechi that he was fine with it. Akechi knew that wasn’t the case, how could he know? His act had been impeccable, the idiots were all fooled. But the contact sent his heart into free fall and he let himself curl in as the movie continued to play regardless that the two had long lost the ability to concentrate on it.
Sunday 20th November
(Daytime)
So, when he entered the interrogation cell days later, he felt he’d prepared himself for this. The desperation and adrenaline rushing through him had him ripping the guard’s gun from his belt, knocking off the safety, muzzling on a silencer and shooting him in the heart so fast he thought the guy was probably dead in the midst of wondering what had happened.
Akechi watched the blood pool from beneath the cooling body and turned to his next victim with a smile, “I’ve come to save you,” he said and watched as Amamiya looked disappointedly from the guard and then to Akechi, as if Akechi had been late to his party. Akechi frowned but said smugly, “I bet that’s what you wished I’d be saying right now isn’t it?”
Amamiya said nothing to this. Good, Akechi thought, it’s my turn.
“You and your little friends were vital to our plan. And now, it will be completed. Your popularity truly was quite stunning. That just made using you all the more worthwhile…” he waited, breathing in a smile, “have you pieced it all together?”
This is where he hoped to see the gears turning in Ren Amamiya’s little head but he was sorely disappointed as the boy stared up from his position dispassionately. There were cuts and bruises scattering across his face and a wheeze in his breath that permeated the room. Maybe he’d broken a rib or two in the hours he’d been a plaything for the police before Akechi arrived. Akechi noted with a sinking feeling that the room looked like the aftermath of a dog fight. Blood was smeared on the walls, on the floor and there were flecks of the ruby liquid drying sporadically. Needles littered the floor too. He frowned and looked back at Amamiya who was holding himself together with string, trying to be strong until the end.
Akechi wanted to defeat him with his eyes still bright and furious. He wondered whether the hazy, blown out pupils were a sign that Amamiya barely was understanding what was going on. It was making this more difficult. He wanted Amamiya to snarl and hate him. He wanted his rival to scream and call him a bastard traitor. Instead he sat there like a sedated, castrated dog, waiting to be put out of its misery.
“Is this what you wanted?” Amamiya asked him weak and slurred, Akechi jolted, raising his gun in… no he wasn’t scared. Amamiya could do nothing. His words meant nothing.
“Yes,” Akechi hissed at him, “this is exactly what I want.”
Amamiya took in a rattling breath, there was blood on his lips, Akechi wondered if he was bleeding internally, maybe a bullet wasn’t’ even needed and he quickly shook his head and felt himself burn as he snarled, jabbing the tip of his silencer into the leader of the Phantom Thieves’ head, “case closed, this is how your ‘justice’ ends.”
His finger struggles to pull the trigger back as he’s staring into those storm-grey eyes. He wonders if he’d accidentally put the safety on before realising his hand is shaking and he’s hesitating. He feels like he’s about to end the best thing that ever happened to him, he feels like he’s self sabotaging again, he feels self-destructive when all he’s ever done is tried to preserve himself. He pressed the gun forward, hard, making Amamiya’s head tilt back and listened to the boy gasp in agony as he’s forced to arch backward against the pressure on his head.
“Akechi,” Amamiya says but it’s like forced air though his lips, “this changes nothing.”
“What?” Akechi feels parts of himself tangle up and fall apart, “what changes nothing?”
But the fire is burning out in front of him, Akechi can see his rival is in agony, he can see he’s not thinking straight. He blinks, he has to know, what is not changing? What is Amamiya seeing that he can’t?
He hisses again, “this changes everything.”
Amamiya sucks in a breath, his gaze has been unwavering but now he seems certain of something. Akechi doesn’t know what and finally he feels the pressure in his hand slowly reverse as Amamiya presses his forehead against the barrel, closing his eyes and leaning forward as if embracing all of this, Akechi is shaking, he doesn’t know how this happened. This wasn't what he had envisioned. For some reason he remembers their Shogi match, he remembers how his own pieces were used against him and he feels infuriated, “you don’t get to do that!”
“If this is what you want,” Amamiya breathes, he’s struggling to get the air out but Akechi has never seen someone so certain and resolute. He wobbles as Amamiya sighs softly, “then do it.”