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When all is said and done in DCOM, Akane can’t bring herself to relax.
She wants nothing more than to just melt into Junpei, luxuriate in the knowledge that everything is going to be all right now, indulge in just a few moments of rest and relaxation with the others before they inevitably broach the next big obstacle. But it’s not like she can just forget what happened in DCOM, either; three teams getting pitted against one another in death matches, SHIFTing between countless timelines, Carlos shooting Delta right in front of everyone’s eyes, Junpei’s proposal—
Something sours in Akane’s stomach when she realizes that she’s been subconsciously grouping Junpei together with all of those other horrible things. That on some level, Junpei is now so thoroughly entwined with death and sorrow that Akane can’t even picture what a happy life would look like with him once they get back. In all of these timelines, she’d been the one to inflict his fate upon him. An observer might even say she ruined his life. It’s a difficult subject for her to consider, but she ruminates on it, anyway.
Akane fiddles with the ring Junpei gave her. For a moment, she imagines it’s sentient, that it might grow claws and teeth and rip the two of them apart one night, limb by limb.
“Mmm?”
From the seat beside her, Junpei stirs, having just woken up from a nap. The two of them are crammed in the back seat of Carlos’s old, beaten up SUV. Before they left, Carlos had insisted that it’d get the three of them back to the nearest town just fine — but the whole vehicle lurches uncomfortably over every bump and groove on the Nevadan earth, windows and seats rattling all the while. The noise inside has gotten so loud that it nearly surprises her that Junpei can nap through it. God knows she couldn’t.
That said, little quirks like these shouldn’t surprise Akane so much. For as well as she knows Junpei’s heart — she’d bet her life on it, over and over and over again, in a heartbeat — it’s not as though they’ve known each other for very long, as adults.
It’s shortly after Akane makes this realization that Junpei reaches over and gives her hand — the one bearing the ring — a squeeze. When Akane looks back at him, he’s smiling, distantly. The warmth she associates so strongly with him doesn’t quite meet his eyes.
(Then again, Akane reasons, this past year has taken quite the toll on him. It’s to be expected, that he might not ever be the same Junpei she remembers anytime soon. Or ever again.)
He squeezes again, wordlessly, and Akane’s heart flutters in her chest. This is it, she thinks, her assessment of the situation weighing in the complete opposite direction. This timeline might just be the one where I can actually keep him in my life long enough to know him completely.
They have a lot to talk about before their relationship is anywhere near okay. But she fought for this future, alongside Junpei and the others — now it’s their time to live in it.
. . .
Days pass, and Junpei cannot stop sleeping.
It’s frustrating when he knows so much has to get done. The terrorist that may or may not exist being problem number one, and remnants of Free the Soul being number two. And those are just one and two on a laundry list of other problems Junpei can’t even touch yet. It’s not like his job can just operate without him, even after such a crucial win in DCOM.
But Junpei’s limbs have other ideas. His legs buckle on the way to the bathroom; his arms wobble when they turn doorknobs. Sometimes, his fingers can’t close around his toothbrush, and he drops them on the floor or in the sink. He’s already gone through half of a pack this week.
Light tells him that this is normal; it’s his body’s reaction to stress beyond human comprehension. The good news is, with minimal damage done to his body, Junpei has a chance of making it out of this unscathed, but the recovery process will be up to him and him alone.
Well, almost alone. Naturally, Akane keeps an eye on Junpei at his bedside. Perhaps too keen of an eye — she barely lets him leave the room. It’s for his own good, Junpei knows, but not being able to take care of himself on his own still makes him feel uneasy.
Because… Well, Akane has already done so much for him. Junpei has SHIFTed enough times to know how much she sacrificed for him, time and time again, in the futures he’ll never live out. He proposed to her, yes. But there’s still so much about her that he doesn’t know — sealed away in histories made unfathomable to him.
The ring on Akane’s finger glints in his apartment’s artificial ceiling light; it’s the first thing he sees when he comes to. Then Akane’s hunched frame comes into view, her upper body resting peacefully on the side of Junpei’s bed as she snores softly. Junpei doesn’t risk a glance at his clock — he knows that the time will disorient him, before he falls asleep for another few hours anyway — but he can see that it’s dark outside.
When the feeling comes back to all of Junpei’s limbs, he feels Akane’s cold hand on his own. Her fingers circle loosely around his wrist, resting just above Junpei’s pulse point. As though she fell asleep like this, checking for Junpei’s heartbeat.
A beat passes, and Junpei finds himself sitting up. He’s careful not to wake her — between all the stress in DCOM and caring for Junpei afterwards, he hasn’t seen Akane sleep much at all in the past several days —- and he mirrors her hand’s position. Two fingers against Akane’s wrist, checking her pulse.
Her heartbeat pumps slowly, gently against Junpei’s fingertips. Her gentle exhales fan against his arm. She is, of course, both alive and real. In Junpei’s sleep-addled mind, however, her existence is still difficult to comprehend.
In time, he is beckoned into a quiet, dreamless sleep. Holding a paradox of a girl in his arms.