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Ren Amamiya couldn't figure out what he wanted more: to fall into an eternal slumber or to return to a time before the Metaverse and Maruki.
A pale beam of light streamed into the bedroom. Faint sounds of cars honking slipped in through the cracked window, and Mona's purrs rang through the air. Ren sprawled out under the blanket, the weight of Mona acting as an anchor. He breathed in a steady rhythm. Snowflakes drifted downwards and added to the thin layer already on the ground. As the morning breeze burst through the window, the curtains rippled. He shivered.
Creak
"Ren!" He jerked upright, eyes bulging out of their sockets. He gasped, heart hammering in his chest. Mona mewled and scrambled off the bed. Ren rubbed his eyes and groaned.
"Mmm, what's going on? " he slurred. Orange popped up in his vision. Small hands grabbed his shoulders, shaking him violently. He instantly recognized Futaba by her scent: in need of a shower. Ren wrinkled his nose.
"I've got a bone to pick with you," Futaba hissed. Her brows pinched together while she scowled. "Wake up. Wake up. Wake up!"
"Back up," he said after a long beat of silence. She did, moving back and sitting criss-cross-apple sauce in the middle of the bed. "Futaba, it's," he paused to check the time: 6:32. "So early. What the hell?" The sunlight burned his eyes, and he let out a vampire-like hiss.
"Ryuji told me." He sighed and stared at her, arching a brow. His mouth tasted stale. Everything mixed in a blend of sensory input, giving his vision a dream-like hazy blur. She stared back, their eyes meeting in a clash of brown and gray. Futaba crossed her arms. Ren did too.
"It's too early for this shit."
"Ren." Her voice, unlike usual, carried a gravity behind it. He nodded, staring out the window. As she started to speak, he played with one of his curls. Her voice faded in and out of his ear. "I wish you would have told me yourself," she said, twisting her fingers and looking down.
He hummed in faux-acknowledgment. It was wrong–he knew that. His friends deserved better than to be brushed off. Pulling on his bangs, his eyes followed the snow as it fell. He curled his other hand around the sheets.
Ren closed his eyes to think. He ran through everything he'd done that could upset her to this extent but came up blank. Glancing at Mona didn't give any answers; the cat seemed just as confused. Well, only one thing he could do. Ren sighed and looked away.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know how to tell you." Mona stared at him like he was crazy. Not like Ren could blame him. With a downcast expression, Ren patted Futaba's messy hair. "I'm sorry. You know how much I care for you–you're like my little sis." That, at least, he meant.
"I don't know. If it makes you happy, I don't want to ruin that! If he makes you happy." By that point, it was too late to ask her to clarify. Ren wiped the confusion off his face and smiled. His lids felt heavy.
"Thank you. That means a lot to me." That felt like the right thing to say. He couldn't look her in the eyes, swallowing. But more than that, he had the creeping fear that he dug himself into a hole that would be difficult to crawl back out of. It was much too late to admit his cluelessness.
"I hope everything works out." She squeezed Ren's shoulder; her hands felt like a furnace. "After what happened, I–" she paused, biting her lip. "I was really worried about you. We all were. But that's in the past. I wish you guys the best. I really do." Even though Ren had zero clue what she was rambling about, he smiled. Warmth burst in his chest.
"Thanks. Love you, you gremlin." She laughed and leaned forward to wrap her arms around his shoulder. Ugh, she needed a shower.
"You want to hang out today?"
"Can't. I'm meeting Akechi to strategize our next move. Maybe I'll get him to play chess with me? I dunno."
She wiggled her brows. The previous sadness in her eyes had been replaced by her usual cheer. Ren tilted his head. Without elaborating, Futaba gave Ren one last squeeze before getting up. "Alas, duty calls. Mwahaha!" Pushing her glasses up her nose, she did a dramatic twirl. Her orange hair spun with her, and Ren smiled. "Oracle out!"
"Your 'duty' consists of watching anime and playing video games," he called out as she left.
"Blasphemy!" Futaba replied, sticking out her tongue. He watched her go, an odd feeling in his chest. Eh, who cares? Nothing bad was going to happen because of his little act, right?
Right?
**
"Hey, what do you think Futaba meant before?" Ren asked. Mona peered up at him with a frown. They perched in a booth, slouching, at the back of the cafe. Ren bounced his leg under the table.
As he took a swig of coffee, it slid down his throat. Sunlight filtered through the window and cast a warm glow against Ren's jaw. With his chin in his palm, he looked around. It wasn't too busy for an afternoon. Regulars sat in their usual spots. Sojiro filled out a crossword puzzle. Leblanc became his home, more than his real one. When Sojiro caught him staring and raised a brow, Ren smiled back. Curry spices wafted through the cafe; they mixed with the nutty, caramel scent of coffee brewing.
"You think I know?" Mona asked, a hint of confusion in his voice.
"I dunno." Ren shrugged and pulled on one of his curls. "I was just winging it."
"I could tell!"
With a smirk, Ren snapped his fingers. "I pulled it off, no? Think I could become an actor?"
"Not a chance. Where's Akechi? Isn't he supposed to be here by now?" Mona sat on his hind legs to look around; Ren cooed at the sight.
"Shut it, Mona. Don't make me think about it." Ren's stomach twisted. "Crap, you made me nervous."
"Just act like you always do. You woo almost every girl anyway," Mona said, wrinkling his nose.
"Akechi isn't a girl," Ren said, swatting Mona. "You don't get it." He fidgeted with his glasses, sounding like a petulant child. "It's Akechi. You know him. Angsty and all that shit."
The overhead bell jingled, more so rattled, and Akechi pranced into Leblanc. A gust of outside air invaded the cafe, causing his skin to prickle. Footsteps patterned against the floor. Ren looked up. His lips twitched upon seeing the exaggerated way Akechi walked; the man's hair bounced with the force of his steps. He took long strides into the cafe; tall, elegant, and lean. When he got closer, Ren shooed his furry companion away. His pulse sped up.
"Hello, Amamiya."
Ren smirked. "Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" Playing it up a bit, he fluttered his lashes. Akechi threw his bag onto the table and yanked off his coat with an eye roll. When he sat down, he turned his head and sneered.
"Yes, it's a gun." His expression was a mix of irritated and unsurprised. "One that I am not afraid to use, mind you." Ren raised his hands in surrender, and Akechi's eyes flicked to the other cup of coffee. "For me?" He wore a green sweater over a white-collared shirt; nerdy was the only way to describe it.
He smelled good, too. His cologne had a subtle yet fresh scent with a hint of something flowery. When Ren inhaled, it reminded him of grief and broken promises.
"Mhm."
"I'm hesitant to accept. Is it poisoned?"
"Totally. It's full of arsenic."
"That's a shame," he said dryly. "Shall we get straight to it? I have a few noteworthy observations to mention." Akechi went to take a sip of his coffee. A dainty yet strong gloved hand picked up the cup. His hand seemed nice to hold. Theirs would fit together well, he imagined. Like puzzle pieces, their fingers slotting together.
Ha. In his dreams.
"Yeah. Sounds good," Ren said, his eyes drawn to the other boy. Seeing his old rival again gave him whiplash. Akechi died. The leather glove that felt heavy in his pocket was a constant reminder of that; a reminder of their rematch that would never happen.
Yet here he was, looking the same as when Ren last saw him. The only difference was the tiredness in his gaze and the way his rage transformed into a quiet bitterness. Like a volcano ready to erupt at any moment. Ren was the only one mourning for a boy the world had forgotten. He opened and closed his mouth. "I missed you," he eventually said, the words heavy on the tongue. Akechi went still. His breath hitched, and he clasped his hands together.
"Amamiya, I–" He swallowed, and all hints of vulnerability disappeared. Stone cold. Ren saw the emotions threatening to leak out of the other man; the seams that made up Goro Akechi were unraveling.
"I'm sorry," Ren continued. His pulse sped up, but he forced himself to hold his gaze. "For not being able to save you."
"Must you always be so noble?" he scoffed. Akechi looked away and took another sip of his coffee. A sliver of emotion appeared in his cold expression. "I didn't want your help."
"I know, but I still," Ren hesitated, "I could have done more. I should have done more." He ran a hand through his hair. Muffled chatter surrounded them.
"Righteous Joker, ever the martyr," Akechi drawled. He leaned back into the booth with a huff. "You're being ridiculous. It was entirely my fault. I knew what I was doing, and I paid the price for it."
I know, he wanted to say. In a perpetual state of rumination and nostalgia, Ren replayed every memory and wondered where he fucked up. He could never find an answer. "Yeah, I guess. What about your observations?"
"There were no hordes of fans following and gawking over me."
"Hm."
"Not to say I'm complaining. Still, it's odd. We seem to have pre-established roles here."
Ren's gaze remained fixed on his rival. He itched to touch Akechi's cheek to see if he was an illusion, to see if he was only a ghost of the past. The thought made Ren's nose wrinkle.
"Earth to Amamiya. I'm not here to dally around. Have you forgotten the stakes at hand?" Ren remembered what it felt like to kiss him last summer. Strawberry chapstick, the taste of coffee on Akechi's tongue, and gloved hands that cupped Ren's cheeks. "As our leader, you can't afford to be distracted."
"I know."
"I don't think you do. I have no interest in interacting or forming a relationship with you. The sooner you accept that the better." Akechi examined his nails with a frown.
"I thought we moved past this," Ren sighed. His voice and expression remained calm. Blank, almost. "Your actions contradict your words. You're here, no? Let's focus on Maruki, but we can also be–"
"No," Akechi snapped. "No. You mean nothing to me, Amamiya! Go find someone else to try to fix. I'm not interested in fulfilling your savior complex." That boy who kissed him was not the man in front of him. Ren clenched his jaw. Curling his hands into fists, he resisted the urge to punch Akechi. Ren thought things had changed between them. He thought that after the engine room, they began to understand each other. A wave of grief passed over him, and he pressed his lips together in a thin line.
"Right," Ren said. His heart raced, but he kept his face blank. "Have a superb day, asshole."
"What?" Akechi's lips parted, and he blinked rapidly.
A tight-lipped smile crept onto his face. He stood and clasped Akechi on the shoulder, eyes narrowed and voice sarcastic. "I'm so happy to see you again. Thanks for coming by." Sojiro's and Mona's eyes followed him as he trudged to the door. Ren stormed out of the cafe.
The door slammed shut behind him, and the wind whipped against him. It burned his cheeks and caused his shirt to billow in the wind. He gritted his teeth and stomped through the snow, leaving heavy footprints behind. Cars drove by. People walked side-by-side on the pavement. Children laughed as they rolled around in the snow, which began to turn into gray, ugly slush. Ren wished he saw what they saw, lived how they lived. He had no intention of accepting Maruki's deal, but the world lost its sparkle long ago. When his parents kicked him out and he learned about the corrupt nature of adults, the colors seemed to dim.
A life of no suffering and pain. He couldn't imagine taking that away from them, but what choice did he have?
He strode down a few more blocks until fewer people populated the streets. The world around him quieted. Inhale. Exhale. As he repeated the mantra to himself, he clung to how the cold air made his lungs burn. It reminded him that he was in the present and not some fragment of the past. The fire consuming him extinguished, and all that remained was exhaustion. Christmas lights hung along storefronts; red, green, and white. As he sniffled, the strokes of color blurred in his vision. The lights bounced against Ren's pale skin, reflecting off his glasses.
His destination was a dark-looking backstreet. After another minute or so of walking, he slumped into the alley. His lower lip wobbled. A brick wall dug into his back behind him. The air was thick with the stench of garbage and mildew, and he wrinkled his nose. Truthfully, he didn't know what he was doing there. Akechi's face and words were a punch to the gut; they filled him with the need to escape, unable to handle the magnitude of his emotions.
Ren's chest clenched, and he leaned back to fight the tears. His hands shook as he wiped them away; a leader wasn't supposed to cry. They weren't supposed to be weak, crumbling apart like paper. With uneven breaths, he wrapped his arms around himself. The warmth of the tears was a stark contrast to his chilled skin.
In a moment of weakness, he reached into his back pocket and pulled Akechi's glove out. His fingers dug into the leather, and it felt firm and grounding.
He allowed the coldness to seep into his bones. A semblance of calm settled over him, and his breath formed a white, misty cloud in the air. As the sun started to fade, he stood upright and put the glove away. A pang of longing went through him. His nails dug into his palm.
On the walk back, he realized that he wasn't calm. Not in any way. Rather, a sort of resignation overtook him. Leaving him empty and drained. This isn't me, he thought.
But it wasn't just Akechi; everything added up. The weight of Joker's role and being a constant crutch for his confidants. The expectations placed upon him, and the way he didn't get any time to grieve. How was he supposed to act normal? Perhaps the worst one: Maruki, somebody he trusted, twisting his feelings around to justify a fake world.
By the time he returned to Leblanc, the sun had fully set. Streets darkened, and the world quieted as night fell onto Tokyo. When he pushed open the door, the warm air inside the cafe caused some of his chilliness to abate.
Sojiro looked up from his spot behind the bar when the bell jingled. "Hey, can you flip the sign?"
"You got it, boss." Ren turned the sign to "closed" and dropped his body onto a barstool. The ceiling lights shone down on him, and he pressed his face against the wooden countertop to close his eyes. They were red and puffy. The worn surface emitted warmth; it felt soothing. In the background, the heater made a humming noise.
"Did you go out without a jacket?" Ren made a vague noise, not looking up. Bits of snow remained on the bottom of his shoes.
Sojiro clicked his tongue. "That's how you get sick. I won't be paying for your medical bills, you know." The gruffness left his voice when he said, "A cup of coffee will do you wonders." Ren grumbled.
"Whatever."
"Oi, watch the attitude," was all he said. Ren tapped his finger on the counter. It was quiet except for Sojiro shuffling around and the heater. His breaths echoed in the silence, and he felt the older man's eyes on him. "What's your deal?"
"Nothing." Ren muttered. Sojiro placed a cup of coffee in front of him. Sitting up, he looked into the cup. Steam rose from the dark liquid, and the smell of coffee filled the cafe. He sighed when the warmth from the cup hit his face. It fogged up his glasses. "I'm sorry, I'm just not feeling well. I didn't mean to be rude."
A shrug. "Kid, I saw the way you ran outta here earlier." Crossing his arms, Sojiro raised a brow. His forehead wrinkles scrunched up from the movement. "You can't fool me."
"I don't want to talk about it," he said, this time firmer. "I'm fine, really."
"Well, suit yourself." With another shrug, Sojiro hung up his apron. He squinted at Ren again, looking like he wanted to say something else. But he didn't. The heels of his leather shoes clicked against the old floor tiles as he walked out from behind the bar. A sick feeling coursed through him. I'm the worst. What the hell was he doing? For a moment, Ren didn't recognize himself. "I'm heading home. If you need anything, send me a message."
Nodding, Ren gave the man a thumbs up. "Have a nice night. I'm sorry again. Could you tell Futaba to send Mona back?"
"Will do," and then he left, and Ren was alone. He turned on his phone; the screen read 8:49. A whole day went by already, and it was spent with him feeling like crap. What a waste. He glanced at the new notification that popped up on his lock screen from Haru.
He opened the text. It was a simple greeting requesting them to talk at Leblanc tomorrow. He bit the inside of his cheek. His shoulders slumped, and he sighed. But she did say it was important. Reluctantly, he typed an affirmative response and turned off his phone.
When Mona pawed at the door, he opened it with heavy eyes and a yawn on the cusp of leaving his mouth. "Hey, how was–"
Mona stopped and wrinkled his nose. "Ren, have you been crying?" Concerned eyes peered up at him. He shrugged and turned away, going to switch the lights off.
"I'm fine."
"But…"
"I mean it. Come on, I'm exhausted." Navigating through the cafe shrouded in darkness, he touched the walls to keep track of his location. The silver beams of moonlight were their only light source. Ren remembered being scared of the dark, and it seemed silly now since he'd become Joker. A part of him longed for those simpler times, a time before he had to fear for his life and be a leader. A time before he had to watch the person he loved die.
Finally, he bumped into the stairs. "You with me?" he asked. Mona hummed. The floorboards creaked with each step. Dust particles caused his nose to burn, and he sneezed. Bone-deep exhaustion consumed him as he flopped onto the flimsy futon. Sprawling out, he stared at the ceiling.
"Ren," Mona tried again. The cat batted Ren's face with his paw, and Ren swatted it away.
"Knock it off. I'm tired."
"Joker!" A shaky breath left Ren's lips. "You're our leader. If something's wrong–"
"I know, but," he started, biting his lip. Ren didn't feel strong or brave; he didn't feel like a leader. Mona went silent.
"Huh?" A wave of shame rushed through him. Regardless of if he felt like it, he was their leader. He had to be strong for them, even if it meant pretending like everything was fine. Like he wasn't falling apart.
"Nevermind. I'm just tired."
"Get some rest!"
When he fell asleep, it was a fitful rest plagued with nightmares.
**
Sojiro stirred a pot of curry, and Mona, on the floor, purred as he ate the sushi left out for him. As they prepared to open, Ren ran a wet rag over one of the tables. "Haru–you remember her, right?" He received a nod in response. "She's coming over in, like, twenty minutes."
"Oh?" Inhaling the aroma of curry, Ren's stomach growled. He frowned at the suggestive note in Sojiro's voice.
"It's not like that," Ren said, shaking his head. "Seriously. We're only friends."
"You know, you were just like me back in the day. I was a real ladies' man. No need to be humble, kid." With a groan, Ren stepped away from the table and dropped the rag behind the bar. He wiped his damp hand on his pants and sat down on a stool.
"I like somebody else." It was the first time he uttered the words out loud. They left a feverish feeling in their wake, and his face burned. "I've liked them for a long time."
"Oh." Sojiro looked surprised. His eyes narrowed. "Is it somebody I know?"
"I think Haru will be here soon."
"Hey, you've got to tell me now!"
"He likes Goro Akechi," Mona chirped. Ren was relieved that Sojiro didn't understand him.
"Shut it, Mona." If Ren sounded more snappy than usual, nobody mentioned it. He attributed it to the horrible sleep he got the night before. "It's not mutual, anyway. They don't like me back."
"Sorry, kid." Ren shrugged and waved him off. With a yawn, he played a random puzzle game on his phone. He bounced his knee, and his eyes shifted left and right.
"Why do you even like those games?" Mona asked and jumped up onto the counter beside Ren.
"Oi, get the cat off the counter! Or else you're cleaning the fur up." Ren glared at his furry companion.
"Because I have taste. Get off!" Mona sulked and trotted back up into the attic with his chin raised.
After that, the first customers came in not too soon after. Ren tied his apron around himself and straightened up. Time to get to work. Working allowed his mind to shut off. In Leblanc, all he had to worry about was being a good barista. No Maruki, no metaverse. Patrons came in and out slowly. The flow of it all relaxed him. By noon, he completely forgot about Haru coming over.
A lot had happened!
In the span of a few hours, his mild headache turned into a throbbing migraine. Futaba's vague wording from yesterday that he brushed off came back in full force.
Ren fucked up.
By not questioning her, he inadvertently confirmed whatever nonsense she rambled about. His phone buzzed, and he had a horrible feeling about it.
yo, RenRen, the text read. Ren glanced around to ensure Sojiro wasn't watching him. Then Ren sent back a waving minion gif. He laughed to himself, and Ryuji thumbs-downed the message. can't talk for long. Futaba said u confirmed the new relationship so CONGRATS!!! love is love, man! Ren squinted at his phone and the line of confetti and rainbow flag emojis Ryuji sent.
Huh??? Ren responded, and three dots appeared as Ryji typed. ttyl, on a run. A selfie of Ryuji and Ann, sweaty but smiling, and Yusuke in the back looking ready to collapse, popped up the screen. Ren spammed Ryuji–even called him. But no response.
He ducked his head down and groaned. Four minutes later another text. Sumire sent him an article about conflict resolution with the message: No offense, but I think you two might need it! When he questioned her, she said never mind and apologized for overstepping. And maybe the worst of them all: Takemi stopped by to drop off a not-so-discreet box of condoms. The look Sojiro gave him would probably haunt him forever.
"Er, shouldn't your friend be here by now?"
"Listen, about the–" Sojiro cut him off, shaking his head.
"Your business, not mine." The older man cleared his throat, and Ren winced.
He didn't attempt to defend himself, simply scrubbing a hand across his face.
The door opened and ended the humiliating conversation, and Haru's signature fluffy hair became visible. She entered the cafe dragging her feet with her arms crossed. Ren paused when she barely reacted to his presence.
"You're my savior," Ren joked. She didn't respond and clasped her hands together tightly. Her nails dug into her palms. He felt compelled to say something but hesitated. Her eyes flickered up to his face; she pursed her lips. His smile fell, turning into a frown.
Sojiro gestured for him to talk to her, and he hung up his apron. Ren placed a hand on her shoulder. "Haru? You wanted to talk?" When she looked up, her eyes were swollen and bloodshot red. She didn't smell like her usual floral perfume, which added to his concern.
Instinctively, his grip on her shoulder tightened. She winced, and Ren took a quick step back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
"It's alright," she said, her voice soft. "Let's go sit down."
"Okay. Do you need anything? I can get you some water or coffee. If you're hungry–"
"Ren." He flinched at the hardness in her voice. His mind reeled. Why was she–wait. It all made sense. Sighing, he pulled on his bangs. She heard about the supposed relationship he was in. "There's no need. I just want to talk. Okay?"
"Alright." They sat in a nearby booth, and Ren tapped his finger against the table. "I can tell you're upset. Whatever you've heard," a dismissive wave of his hand, "is nonsense." She lifted her head to look up at him with wide eyes.
"I don't believe you, Ren." Her voice was still soft, now with an undertone of anger. "I see how you look at him!" She continued, "my father was not a good man. He made many mistakes."
He nodded, stilted. "He hurt people, and he hurt me," Haru said with a pause. She took a deep breath before continuing. Ren scratched his cheek.
"But he was my father, Ren." As her lower lip wobbled, she stared at her hands. "He was my father, and I loved him. I try not to act selfishly, you know. I always put others' needs above mine. But I can't. Not this time." She wiped her eyes and smeared her mascara.
"I don't understand. What does your father have to do with this?"
"Everything! Ren, you're one of my dearest friends. You mean the world to me." Her voice trembled while she spoke, and it cracked at her next words. "How could you?!"
"I–I don't know what you're talking about!"
The cafe quieted. Haru's hands clenched into fists. "Your new relationship seems to say otherwise. Ren, he–he killed my father!" With a huff, she crossed her arms and looked away.
Goddammit. He stared at her, forcing himself to remain calm. "I told you: it's not true. I'm not in a relationship." Her words dawned on him, and his composure cracked. "Wait. Hold up. This–" he snorted, shaking his head. Killed her father. Conflict resolution. Futaba's reaction. Sweet Jesus. "There has been a huge misunderstanding. I'm not dating Akechi."
How did he not realize this sooner?
"Huh?" She tilted her head and scratched her cheek. "I don't understand. Ryuji said he saw you two on a date."
"Even though he's the best bro I could ask for, you know he's not the brightest. He was way off the mark."
"I'm really confused. So you're not dating Akechi?"
"Nah."
"But do you want to?" She narrowed her eyes once more, and he maintained a poker face.
"He hates me," Ren said instead of an answer. Then he looked up at the ceiling, gesturing. "He's hot, sure, but it'd never work out."
"But if you're not dating him, that means Ryuji was wrong." Her eyes suddenly widened. "Oh my! Ren, we've made a terrible mistake."
"Of course you did." She winced. "What happened?"
"We–"
The door swung open. Lo and behold, Goro Akechi appeared with a murderous expression. He was drenched in sweat and his hair stuck to his cheeks. Unlike usual, he wore a loose-fitted long-sleeved shirt with the collar askew. It was kind of attractive. Akechi's hands clenched and unclenched, and his nostrils flared. Well, it seemed that the rumor reached Akechi. Ren grimaced; he wasn't in the mood to deal with his rival's angst fest. More like zest fest. Ha.
He especially wasn't willing to deal with him after their last interaction. Akechi's eyes turned into thin slits when he noticed Haru and Ren. Marching into Leblanc, his expression turned angrier. He stopped at their booth, growling. "Okumura," he said coldly. "What a pleasant surprise. I'm not sure what I want to do more: pummel you in the Metaverse, or shoot myself." Both of their eyes widened at his drastic words.
"There has been a misunderstanding." Against his expectations, Akechi turned bright red. He bared his teeth, seeming ready to fight Ren in the middle of Leblanc.
"You!" Akechi yelled. Sojiro huffed and rubbed his temples. It would have been a comedic situation if not for the pure rage radiating off the other boy.
"Hey, no fighting in here!" Sojiro called out. "Take it outside."
"Very well," Akechi said. "Okumura, stay inside." He yanked Ren outside by his shirt, moving quickly. His hair tickled Ren's cheek. They received looks from those inside Leblanc, and Sojiro's eyes were wide as he watched Ren be dragged.
"You don't have to listen to him," Ren called out. Regardless, Haru nodded, not bothering to argue. Akechi's grip on him tightened, becoming nearly painful. He pulled Ren into a nearby alley. It smelled terrible. Garbage and cardboard surrounded them, which soured Ren's mood even more. They were close enough that flecks of brown became visible in Akechi's eyes. "For as much as you say you hate me, you sure are obsessed with me," Ren said, smirking.
Whoops. Big mistake. Akechi's eyes flared. Grabbing Ren by the shoulders, he shoved him into the wall. The impact of it made Ren hiss, and he looked up at Akechi defiantly. The hand around Ren's shirt curled into a fist. "My landlord congratulated me on our 'relationship' because your dumbass friends sent a box of condoms! How the fuck did they even get my address, Amamiya? Did you tell them my address?!"
At that, he moved closer to Ren. When the other man's uneven breaths fanned against Ren, it dawned on him how close they were. Ren's lips parted. His pupils expanded, and he swallowed. Licked his lips. Akechi squeezed Ren, digging his fingers into his shoulder blades. He felt like a furnace pressed against Ren, and their body heat mingled. The smell of herbal shampoo flooded his senses. His vision spun, and his pulse sped up.
"I didn't–"
"Bullshit."
Ren glanced around. "Was this your plan? Get me alone?" The corners of Ren's lips curled up into a smirk. "I mean, I wouldn't be opposed…"
"Excuse me?!"
"Ravish me, detective," Ren purred. His lips twitched. He sent a quick thanks to his friends in his mind. Things would get heated or violent; he wasn't opposed to either outcome.
"Take this seriously for fucks sake, Amamiya!" Ren sobered up. He raised a brow. "They didn't even question the rumor! Do you see that or are you too braindead?" Ren kept his face blank.
"Okay. It's not a big deal, Akechi. Just a misunderstanding."
"It is a big deal." He didn't look at Ren.
Ren sighed and tipped his head back against the brick wall. He glanced up at Akechi from under his lashes, the heat between them nearly scorching. "Why?" Ren asked, his voice low.
"Your glasses are ridiculous. Your hair is constantly untidy, giving the look of a homeless man. You have awful posture. You live in an attic! And–"
Ren snapped. He grabbed Akechi's shirt collar and yanked him closer, delighting in the way he went silent. Hot, frantic breaths puffed against his face. Akechi's maroon eyes went wide. They stared at each other, lips hovering over each other. Ren gave Akechi a chance to move away. But the other man didn't.
This was most definitely a terrible idea.
Ren pressed forward. He pushed his back off the wall and kissed him. Akechi gasped against his lips and remained still. Just when Ren began to fear that he'd made a mistake, Akechi responded. The other man's lips were warm and firm against his; they were chapped. God, kissing Akechi might have been the best thing he'd ever done. Their lips slotted together perfectly, and it felt like a resolution to all the grief and longing. The coldness of the air juxtaposed the warmness in his body. His head spun. His lungs burned, but he ached for more. "Goro," he whined. That did it; Akechi wrapped his arms around Ren's waist and shoved him against brick.
He dug his fingers into Ren's sides. Their teeth clattered together when they both surged forward. Frantically–almost desperately, Akechi smashed their lips together. As if fighting in the Metaverse, both men were unwilling to let the other overshadow them. Moaning into the kiss, Ren moved his hands to cup his face. Akechi's skin was soft and smooth. A lock of hair fell into Akechi's eyes, and Ren pushed it behind his ear.
Ren's heart pounded. Things progressed too quickly for him to keep up, so he surrendered himself to the heat between their bodies. It would have been easier to view this as a result of their brewing tension. A lustful, angry encounter. But it wasn't that–not in the slightest.
Though Akechi's kisses were fervent and bruising, the way he clutched onto Ren revealed the undertone of emotion that lust couldn't mask. The desire that he hid between insults and harsh words. More frenzied kisses were exchanged. Some chaste and some long; all of them were full of hunger. The sounds of their groans and kissing filled the alley, and Ren prayed that nobody walked by. His glasses dug into Akechi's cheeks. When a drop of sweat slid down his jaw, Akechi watched it fall with rapt attention.
"Ren," Akechi moaned, trailing his lips down Ren's jaw. Akechi placed wet kisses along Ren's neck, dragging his tongue along the sharp lines of his collarbone. Ren tipped his head back with loud, uneven breaths. He squeezed his eyes shut. A string of saliva slid down the spot where Akechi licked. "Ren," he said again, this time rougher. When Akechi bit down, Ren arched his back. He moaned and tangled his fingers in Akechi's hair.
Akechi pulled back abruptly. With pink cheeks and swollen lips, he stared at Ren with a dazed expression. He pulled his hands to his sides as his brows scrunched up. When he placed more distance between them, Ren scoffed. "You can't be serious, Goro."
"Don't call me that."
"You didn't seem to mind it when you had your tongue in my mouth."
"That's–shit, I have to go."
"Wait!" Before Akechi could get far, Ren grabbed his wrist. "Don't do this. Don't run."
"Shut up. I don't have to listen to you."
"Goro, you're not under Shido's control anymore."
A myriad of emotions flashed across Akechi's face. He bared his teeth at Ren, snarling. "Shut up! How dare you speak of that bastard!"
"You need to hear this. Whether you want to or not." His grip on Akechi tightened, fighting the other man's attempts at getting free. "You're not a good person." He said the words in a calm voice. Akechi flinched. "You've hurt a lot of people. People I care about. That's exactly why you need to push forward. You have a second chance to be something. There's Maruki to defeat, but after that–"
"There is no 'after' for me, Ren," Akechi said, his previous anger gone. His voice had turned both weary and reluctant. "In Shido's palace, I," he paused, looking up at Ren with a sliver of hesitation. "There is a large gap in my memories from Shido's palace. I don't remember anything from after the engine room." He grimaced. "That's why I've come to the conclusion that once we go back to the real world, I will disappear."
"Oh." Ren's lips parted. He bent his neck, looking down. "Wow."
Akechi nodded, his lips twisted in a grimace. "So, I think it would be better for me to leave. For both our sakes, let's just forget this happened. Alright?"
"Why? Give me a reason that's not bullshit." Akechi furrowed his brow.
"I hate when you do this. Because I said, alright?! Goddammit."
Shrugging, Ren remained indifferent. "I think you're scared. I think you're scared of being vulnerable–of opening up. So you push people away and act cruel." Akechi gritted his teeth, the grinding of them audible. "I understand–"
"No, you don't!" Akechi said. "How could you possibly understand?! You're always surrounded by people who care about you. No matter what you do, everybody loves you. And I can't even blame them." Akechi laughed–a bitter laugh–as he leaned his head back.
Ren didn't take the bait. He hummed. "You're right. But my point still stands. If you truly hate me, then go." He took a step closer to Akechi. "Even if you're scared, you can't hide from your feelings. Have you ever run away from the Reaper before?"
"No," he replied quietly.
"Exactly. You're not a coward."
"You don't know me then." Akechi's voice remained hushed, and he pressed his cheek to Ren's shoulder. Ren took Akechi's gloved hand, lacing their fingers together.
"I disagree. I want to love you. If you'd let me."
"I'm not–I don't have time. Ren, I'm out of time." Ren placed his finger against Akechi's lips to shush him.
"None of that. Focus on the present." Akechi inhaled and exhaled. Then he nodded.
"I want to live. Even if for a short amount of time, I want to feel alive."
Ren smiled.