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Larentia is not a dog.

The realization crashes through Akira like a train — and from their reactions, through the rest of the team as well. On the other side of the engine room, Akechi howls and hurls insults and hatred at them, and his daemon snarls like a feral beast, her teeth long, far too long for a tame animal, and shit, how did they never notice before…

A Tamaskan dog, says the profile page of Akechi on social medias. It's easy to see her as a well-behaved daemon with her thick fur carefully groomed, her ears tilted and tongue lolling out in a doggy smile, her bright red bandanna embroidered with the same monogram as Akechi's briefcase — their initials intertwined.

But now, seeing her with her hackles raised and fangs glistening with saliva, her bandanna shredded from their fight, her fur matted with blood, and ready to jump at their throats…

Larentia is a wolf, and everything suddenly makes so much fucking sense.

It always struck Akira as strange, that Fara and Dahorgain would be so wary around Akechi's daemon. People with dog daemons usually bond easily. Despite their differences, Ryuji and Makoto always make a great team and trust each other blindly, especially when they're holding the front line together in battle. Even now, their daemons stand in front of the rest of the team and form a line of defense against Akechi and Larentia, Fara's solid build and Dahorgain's lithe body standing side by side and ready to back each other as they bare their teeth at their opponents.

"She doesn't smell right," Dahorgain had once told Kirahé, when Akira and her had tried to understand the animosity they showed towards Larentia. The Border Collie usually played the diplomat between the daemons, just like Makoto did in their band of raucous teenagers, but even he had a hard time hiding his dislike of the detective and his daemon.

"Yeah, must be all that fancy hair product," Fara had drawled, her voice full of contempt and derision. "You'd think he was prepping her for a dog contest, with how pampered she is. And who puts accessories on their daemon anyway?"

Who indeed, if not for someone who tried to hide the true nature of his daemon in front of thousands of inquisitive eyes. Larentia's bandanna is bright and bold, and people stare at it with patronizing smiles, amused by the childishness of dressing up one's daemon. And they forget to look past the eye-catching accessory, satisfying themselves with their first impression.

"They're both so full of themselves, but in truth they're just lame attention seekers," Fara had concluded in a dismissive tone, and neither Ryuji nor her had ever budged from that opinion.

Until now.

The contrast between Fara and Larentia has always been as clear as the one between Ryuji and Akechi, with the detective's daemon always looking so noble-like, especially besides Ryuji's brutish-looking American Staff. And yet now, Fara holds herself back, wariness in her whole posture and eyes darting uncertainly at Dahorgain for some guidance while Larentia bares her fangs aggressively at them. It's as if their whole personalities have been switched around.

"Why can't you accept that we're sharing the same goal?" Makoto calls over the battlefield, her patience wearing thin at Akechi's temper tantrum. "There's no need for us to fight each other!"

"Stop acting as if we're on the same side!" Spittle flies from Akechi's mouth, his teeth bared just like his daemon's. "You Phantom Thieves have no idea what we went through! Who gave you the right to trample all over years of planning and steal our vengeance from us?!"

This doesn't go over well with Ryuji, who growls in protest. "Dude! You think you're entitled or something?! You're not the only one who's got a beef with Shido, so get your head out of your ass!"

Akechi snarls loud enough to cover his daemon's low growl, his hand clenching around his sword as he shouts: "To hell with your bullshit! He ruined our lives before we were even born! You don't know what it's like to be treated like dirt because your father ditched you and your mother was forced to whore herself out to support you!"

"Please, Akechi-kun, calm down!" Ann takes a step forward, hands raised in a pacifying gesture. "You're right, we cannot understand what you both went through, but that doesn't mean we can't try! Just, give us a chance, let's talk about it instead of trying to hurt each other..."

Azalir, her turaco, is still huddled fearfully in the crook of her neck, half-hidden by her hair, but he hurriedly whispers something in Ann's ear. She nods and plasters a tentative smile on her face as she adds: "Plus, we're not so different, you know? We were all victims of selfish adults, we all know what it's like to be..."

But her words don't have the expected effect. Akechi bristles and cuts her off brutally.

"You and I are nothing alike, so don't you dare compare yourself to me! I am a celebrity, and you, you are nothing more than a bunch of criminals!" Akechi spits the words at them like poison, and then his voice turns mocking, an edge of viciousness underlying the words. "Ooh yes, you have it so easy, everyone loves the fucking Phantom Thieves, but what did you do to earn that fame, huh? I worked hard for it, but you, you just got lucky, you don't deserve any of it!"

"And you..." He turns his focus on Akira and Kirahé, voice full of rancor. "Trash and trash, the both of you, a criminal and an alley cat! So why do people like you more than us?!"

Kirahé presses her small body closer to Akira's leg as Larentia's glares at her. She is trembling, he can feel it. Predators daemons are far from common, and they both remember all too well the trauma from that terrible night ten months ago. The huge teeth of Shido's lioness clamped around Kirahé's neck, threatening to crush her with a single snap of her jaw, Shido viciously hissing over them, about how he's going to destroy their lives for their insolence while they wait in terror for the approaching sirens. The memory is branded in their minds, the weight of the daemon pinning Kirahé to the ground, the smell of rank meat from the lioness' fetid breath washing over her just like Shido's alcohol-laden breath over Akira's face. But more than anything, they remember the teeth, and the primal fear of a caught prey frozen in the jaws of a predator.

They remember the teeth, and Larentia's bared fangs should be terrifying, but the turmoil Akira can feel from Kirahé doesn't come from fear, but from dismay.

This is not how they wanted this to end. Acknowledging that the boy they had taken a liking to wanted them dead had been a hard pill to swallow, but facing him while knowing that this would probably be a battle to the death... this is something that neither Akira nor his daemon are ready to accept.

Their opponent is still fuming, obvious to the mess of painful emotions his words are bringing out. "We spent years hiding our true selves, playing the part of man's best friend and everyone's favorite detective, becoming celebrities! We did everything to get where we are!" Akechi's lips curl in disgust. "And you, you didn't have to even lift a single finger, huh?! Everyone is tripping over their own two feet to get your attention, everyone accepts you no matter how worthless you are!"

Akira grinds his teeth and desperately tries to think of a way to defuse the situation before Akechi decides to attack again. The detective's rant is getting dangerously frenzied, and his temper seems so volatile that Akira doubts he'll be able to reason with him. But maybe the key to avoid a bloodbath lies with Larentia instead. She's kept quiet for now, letting Akechi speak while she holds the front line, but despite the revelation about her, something doesn't quite add up in her attitude. She mostly kept to defensive spells every time she took the shape of Robin Hood earlier, and her attacks were less accurate than what they had gotten used to during their infiltration of Sae's palace. She still bit Fara's shoulder viciously earlier, but only after Ryuji's bat came too close to Akechi's head and broke a chunk out of his mask. Larentia had defended her human and retaliated against attacks, but… she hadn't deliberately taken the offensive, not once.

So, Akira's eyes focus on her, looks past the bared teeth and raised hackles, observes her increasing disquiet and flattened ears, and tries to understand.

There's always been something strange about her. Larentia is not like usual daemons, she never shoved any hesitation about talking with other humans. She's often interviewed alongside Akechi and has no qualms about giving her own opinion, acting more like a separate entity than an extension of him. Not unheard of, but it's still unusual enough that her quirkiness is what everyone talks about, her bandanna, her chattiness, her assertiveness. No wonder no one paid any attention to her long teeth, to her large paws, to her gluttonous penchant for steak and dislike of vegetables.

Hell, she always wrinkled her nose and politely refused Leblanc's curry whenever some was offered to her, unlike Fara and Dahorgain who always indulged happily. Akira should have connected the dots sooner.

Larentia is the key to this, he is sure of it, so Akira watches her carefully, watches her standing protectively between Akechi and them, her threatening fangs and intimidating posture dissuading anyone from coming too close to him.

She looks… afraid.

For Akechi? Or... for them?

It doesn't make any sense.

And yet, Akira is not the only one who noticed the discrepancy in her attitude. Typhitos, who always unconsciously made sure to keep close to Dahorgain whenever Larentia was around, looks far less wary than he should now that they know for sure the true nature of Akechi's daemon. He's always been quite perceptive of other daemons' moods and learned when to pull Haru away from her father's increasingly aggressive behavior these past few years. And yet, the ram doesn't seem too bothered by Larentia's bared teeth. Worried, yes, and he and Haru share concerned glances before refocusing on Akechi and his daemon. But the fear isn't there, only a strange mix of confusion and pity as they stare at the detective, with Haru's hands clasped around one of her daemon's horns for comfort.

And Akira is starting to get it, as Akechi's words of hate cannot quite hide the wounds festering under the surface.

"...You don't get to act all high and mighty, just because you all have people who care for you without having to change who you are!" The turmoil in the detective's voice seems to grow uncontrollably, and Akira feels his throat tightening the more Akechi's facade crumbles. "For years we did everything we had to, to be as perfect as possible, just so that someone would accept us, that they would finally want us around! After all, who would want a child with a daemon who's already settled as a fucking wolf?!"

There's a good ten meters between them and Larentia, but even from this distance, Akira can see her flinch, her eyes shamefully darting to a remote corner of the room before she forcefully gathers her wits back and faces them once again.

The silence that follows Akechi's tirade is deafening. In the light of this revelation, shock has wiped every other emotion on the faces of the Phantom Thieves and their daemons. Nobody dares to speak, and the quiet is only broken by Akechi's harsh breathing. Until a calm voice asks:

"How old were you when you settled?"

Everyone throws horrified glances at Hōshihime, but the grey heron seems completely unbothered by the bluntness of her question, and both she and Yusuke wait for Larentia's answer with placid curiosity.

"This is none of your business!" The detective's daemon hisses between her teeth, the first words she uttered today.

Futaba holds Totoh close to her chest, her daemon grasping her arms like a lifeline as they both stare at Akechi and Larentia with horror mixed with pity. "Was it when… when your mom…"

"She said it's not your fucking business!"

They both flinch at Akechi's shout, and the aye-aye makes a noise of distress as Futaba curls up on herself. The topic is a sensitive one for the both of them, just as much as for Akechi and Larentia.

Haru stifles a noise of sympathy, one hand buried into the dense wool of Typhitos, and Akira doesn't have to look at Ann's expression to feel the waves of compassion radiating from her. He cringes, because in Akechi's current state, those kind of reactions are only going to make things worse.

And he's right. Akechi bristles, eyes wide with fury as he roars: "Stop looking down on us! You think we want your pity?! So what if my daemon is a goddamn wolf, so what if she settled young?! I still managed to get to the top, despite it all!"

Swallowing around his painfully tight throat, Akira lets his gaze drift back to Larentia, to the obvious shame that weights on her. She hasn't reacted out loud to Akechi's callous words, but it's obvious they hit her hard, and Akira feels his heart break for her.

He can't help but remember a conversation he and Kirahé had with Morgana, a few months ago. Late one night, their friend had confessed to them the fear he held about his origins, a fear that had plagued him ever since he awoke alone in Mementos.

"I'm some sort of daemon, I MUST be, there's no way I could be anything else. But where did my other self go? Could it be that they got rid of me? Maybe they didn't like me, or the way I look…"

And Akira and Kirahé had comforted and reassured him, because who in their right mind would be disgusted by their own daemon? Sure, some people were disappointed by the shape of their daemon, and sometimes there were arguments between human and daemon, but no one could hate a part of their own soul. That was impossible.

Wasn't it?

And yet... In the time Akechi and his daemon spent in Akira's presence, he doesn't remember much interaction between them. A few words traded, almost professional, like they were work colleagues instead of two halves of a soul. But no trace of familiarity, of shared amusement, of secrets whispered to one another. It was Akira that Larentia turned to when she had something to tell, never Akechi. As if she couldn't help herself but reach out towards him when Akechi himself didn't.

Akira didn't think it was possible to hate one's own daemon, but he can see it, how Akechi, so hell-bent on being admired and respected, could have grown to resent his daemon's shape. In the world they live in, appearances are everything, and the first thing people look at when gauging someone's worth is their daemon. And it might be the 21st century, but preconceptions and superstitions still abound. Akira is well aware how people see Kirahé and believe him to be lazy and self-entitled. How people see Fara and think Ryuji is a dangerous brute, how they see Azalir and think Ann is just a pretty thing with no brains, how they see Totoh and think Futaba is either a weirdo or carrying a curse.

How they must have seen Larentia and thought Akechi a cruel child prone to violence, instead of someone desperately wishing for a pack, for a family to call his own.

Social prejudice can be terrible, something strong enough to bend one's perception of their own self to what's expected of them instead. Growing up surrounded by wary stares and uncaring words, with everyone shunning him because they believed him to be dangerous, it is no surprise that Akechi became so vindictive and resentful.

Akira understands him. For the past year, he has felt the ever increasing urge to kick doors, to break things, to punch noses, to do everything he was scorned for by his fellow students. After all, if he was to bear the blame for all sort of crimes no matter how obedient he was, why should he have to put on so much effort in the first place? It's only thanks to the Metaverse that he found an outlet for his rage and frustration, by pouring all his and Kirahé's repressed anger into reforming the worst of criminals. But Akechi didn't find the Metaverse until it was far too late, until he had already become as cruel and jaded as everyone thought him to be.

You never intended to become like this, huh? Akira thinks with a heavy heart. But no one expected any better of you, so that's the only path you thought you could take…

He observes them, this mess of a boy and his mess of a daemon, trying desperately to cling to the life they made for themselves in this cold world that has been far too cruel to them. But even though Akechi seems adamant on taking down the threat to what little he has, it doesn't seem to be the case for Larentia.

She looks more wary and fearful the more Akechi's anger grows, and her aggressive stance keeps slipping up, her teeth barely shown in a half-hearted attempt at intimidation. It's obvious she tries her best, but the act is weighting on her. Things are seeping through the cracks, emotions repressed as she darts uncertain glances at Akechi.

As realization hits him, Akira shares a brief look with Kirahé, and he can see that she came to the same conclusion. There is internal conflict here. No matter how furious at them Akechi is, how ready he is for a fight to the death, there is also fear and reluctance somewhere in the soul he shares with Larentia. Indecision, brought upon by opposing desires, between what they want and what they think they want.

What they think they want… Stop the Phantom Thieves? Kill them? Does Akechi really desire their death, or does he think that's the only way forward?

And if Larentia couldn't bring herself to hurt them, could it be that deep down, Akechi...

Akira feels his resolve strengthen. As it is, the situation is a powder-keg waiting to explode. They cannot stand and do nothing while hoping it will turn out for the best. It's obvious that Akechi is firmly encroached in his position, so really, there's only one single way out of this.

"Kirahé," Akira breathes out, gaze still locked warily on the detective and his daemon.

"Right," Kirahé murmurs back. "Leave it to me."

There's an imperceptible hesitation to her first step, but then she gathers her courage and pads forward boldly. There's always a distant disbelief in Akira's subconsciousness at the fearlessness they've both developed ever since Akira donned Joker's mask and Kirahé shifted into Arsène for the first time. A year ago, neither of them would have dared to take such a risk. But they've learned to fight for their beliefs, even if it means taking the more dangerous path. And so, Kirahé stalks forward towards Larentia, despite the teeth, despite the flight instinct, because this? This is something worth risking their lives for.

Fara and Dahorgain send alarmed glances at Kirahé when she passes by them, but they keep quiet at Akira's slight shake of head, and Kirahé proudly steps forward onto the no-man's-land.

"You don't have to fight us if you don't want to," she says as she comes to a stop on the line dividing the two sides of the battlefield.

"…What?" Larentia asks incredulously as she stares at Akira's daemon with widened eyes, as if she had sprouted a second head.

Kirahé tilts her head slightly. "I don't know about you, but Akira and I, we're not gonna fight you again. We should never have fought at all, to begin with."

Akechi's thunderous gaze zeroes in on Akira.

"The fuck are you trying to do?" He hisses, glove creaking around his saber's grip.

"Taking a leap of faith," Akira replies as he deliberately slips his hands into his pockets and takes a step forward too, his relaxed attitude a sharp contrast to Akechi's battle-ready stance. He hopes to hell that no one can hear the imperceptible tremble in his voice.

Akechi bares his teeth into a threatening grin. "Are you so willing to die, Joker? I can grant your wish quite easily."

"Not so easily, no." Akira shakes his head, then winces at how his words could be perceived. "I don't doubt your capacities, but…" He trails off, gaze falling upon Akechi's daemon.

Kirahé nods and takes over.

"You don't want to be here, right?" she asks Larentia in a soft voice, her whole attention focused on the wolf daemon. "Standing against us, fighting us, killing us just to protect your asshole of a father... If there's a way to prevent this senseless slaughter, don't you want to take it?"

Larentia's golden eyes hone in on her with single-mindedness focus. Akechi gapes at Kirahé, then he lets out an ugly laugh. His gaze once again locks onto Akira, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"Look at you," he sneers with evident disdain, "always trying to be the fucking hero. What, you're going to spout some nonsense about the power of friendship and how we should all give each other a hug and let bygones be bygones?"

Akira shakes his head with a frown.

"Don't be stupid," he says. "I'm not trying to be a hero and what you did cannot be forgiven so easily. It's just that... don't you see that we don't have to be enemies?"

"Larentia, you're not a bad daemon," Kirahé adds quietly. "I know the two of you did bad things, terrible things, but... this is not who you wanted to be, right?"

"Have you already forgotten?" Akechi barks. "We're the ones behind the mental shutdowns! Who are we, if not the enemies of the righteous Phantom Thieves-"

Akira cuts him off sharply. "I get it. You are a murderer. You killed a lot of people, and nothing is gonna erase that." His voice lowers, his tone as serious as it can be. "But don't think for a second that you cannot change who you are. You always have a choice to become a better person, it's never too late."

"Don't fucking lie to me!" Akechi snarls. "So what, I should throw away everything I fought for, make buddy-buddy with you and live the rest of my life in repentance? That's it? You think if I grovel enough, everyone will miraculously forgive me for my crimes?" He points at Futaba with a vicious smile. "Why don't you ask her how many apologies are enough for putting a bullet in her mother's shadow?!"

"Hey, don't involve me in this!" Futaba protests, but it's obvious she's been shaken by the reminder.

Akechi's eyes drift to the left, where Akira knows Haru stands, and the viciousness in his eyes intensifies as he opens his mouth. But Haru cuts him off with a sharp "Don't."

Strangely enough, the sudden rebuttal stops Akechi in his tracks, and Akira dares a glance backwards towards Haru. She has let go of Typhitos's horn and straightened herself, her stance as stubborn as that of her daemon. Her expression is stern but not quite as cold as Akira would have thought, confronted with her father's killer.

"I already said it," she says firmly, her voice strong under her melodious tone, "I will not forgive you for what you did. Nothing short of bringing my father back to life could amount for the grief your actions have caused me. But hear me on this, Akechi-kun: you are not a monster for taking lives when not given another choice. But you become one when you refuse to take a chance out when someone offers you one."

Akechi stares at her wide-eyed and jaw hanging. Shock has replaced his previous viciousness, but it suddenly turns into unhinged fury.

"I choose that life!" Akechi howls, while his daemon cringes fearfully. "All those people I killed, all those people I turned mad, I did it willingly! I could have turned my back on Shido and stopped killing anytime! But I CHOOSE to do it!"

"Sure you did," Ryuji scowls. "Though, the choice of going back to a miserable life rejected by everyone is not much of a choice, ain't it?"

Yusuke hums, a slight frown darkening his brow. "It is hard to say no when the only other avenues open to you only seem worse than your current situation. I know how it feels..."

"Stop this!" Akechi snarls. "Stop... Stop trying to push me into this... victim role or something! You don't know me! You don't know us! We are nothing like you, you understand?!"

"You are."

Akira meets Akechi's crimson glare steadily. A few feet ahead, Kirahé steps forwards once again.

"We're not blind," she says firmly, and Larentia flinches under her stare. "We can recognize one of our own. Rejected by everyone for something that was out of your control? Let down by the adults who should have taken care of you? Forced to fight not to be devoured by those more powerful than you? How could you think we would not understand?"

With each question, she takes another step further, closing the gap between them, and Larentia watches her approach with increasing disquiet, the fur of her back raised in alarm. When Kirahé doesn't seem fazed by her attitude, she lets out a fearsome growl.

"Stay away!" Larentia spits. "I swear, Kirahé, I will rip you apart if you come closer!"

Is this a threat or a warning?

"We're not afraid of you," Kirahé adds, her attention firmly on Larentia even as she takes another step forward. "We don't want to be afraid of you. You are like us, no matter what you seem to think. You are not going to scare us away."

She's coming close now, too close, in lunging distance of Larentia's powerful jaws. Akira can feel the increasingly alarmed stares of his teammates on his back, urging him to intervene, but he forces himself to stay still and give his daemon a chance. Just like he spent most of his time with Akechi watching him, analyzing his every gesture and words, so did Kirahé with Larentia. She knows what she's doing, and if she trusts Larentia not to attack her, then Akira will trust her too.

Obviously, Akechi doesn't share this belief.

"Have you both gone mental?" he hisses, hand clenched around his sword, looking at Akira with a fury tinged with desperation.

"I told you," Akira replies, more steadily than he feels, "we're taking a leap of faith. We won't hurt you. The both of you have been hurt quite enough already, don't you think? And we trust that you won't hurt us either."

"This isn't... You can't just-"

For a moment, he seems to falter, and Akira presses his advantage.

"This doesn't have to end here," he says as soothingly as possible. "Akechi, we can figure something out. You don't have to obey him, I know he asked you to get rid of us but you don't have to if-"

"The fuck I don't!" Akechi roars. "You think this isn't what I want?!"

Incensed by his shout, Larentia suddenly snarls and lunges, and for a terrifying moment, Akira thinks that they were wrong, that this is it, this is how they die. But the daemon's teeth snap brutally in the empty air just in front of Kirahé's nose, an intimidation attempt instead of the attack they thought it was, and Akira's daemon remains unharmed.

Kirahé has frozen in her tracks, seemingly unable to detach her attention from the uncovered teeth of Larentia, but when no other attempt follows, she visibly gathers her courage, then takes a tentative step forward once again. And Larentia, eyes slowly widening with confusion and mounting panic, makes a small choked noise and backs away reflexively.

Akira can feel the breath stuck in his chest finally escape his lips. Behind him, he can hear the rest of the Phantom Thieves shuffle in bewilderment at this unexpected retreat. But a few seconds later, Kirahé yelps in alarm and jumps back as Akechi darts toward her.

"Get the fuck away from her!" he snarls, and a wide sweep of his sword forces Kirahé to step back some more. Larentia has retreated behind Akechi's legs, all pretense of aggressiveness forgotten in the face of uncertainty. She stares at Kirahé and Akira like she cannot understand the words that came from them, her expression confused as she tries to make sense of their declaration.

Kirahé has flattened on the ground, fur raised and ears drawn back, but fortunately, Akechi doesn't pursue her. Instead, he shakes down the exhaustion from their first fight and widens his stance, clearly ready to begin the fight once again.

"This fucking conversation is over," he snaps at them. "Don't think for a second that I will hesitate to run you through with my sword. And when I'm done," he adds with a renewed maniacal gleam in his eyes,"I'll finally be rid of your nauseating sentimentality! So come on, Phantom Thieves, let's see what you've got!"

"What do you hope to accomplish with this?" Yusuke rebukes him with a frown. "You already saw that you are no match for our team. This would only end in another defeat for you."

"Oh," Akechi breathes out, something dangerous passing behind his eyes. "Oh, would it?"

"Yeah!" Ryuji proclaims boldly. "We already know of all your tricks now. There's no way you can win this time either!"

Akechi cackles with glee. "How stupid can you be?... You really think you have us all figured out, do you?"

His words and his inexplicable confidence throw a sudden uneasiness over the Phantom Thieves, and despite himself, Akira feels a shiver of fear run down his back. On the other side of the battlefield, Akechi draws himself up, a smile full of teeth and malevolence under his mask.

"Larentia!" he calls. "It is time to show them our true forms!"

Akira tenses. True forms? What is Akechi talking about?

His confusion and wariness are reflected by everyone else, but more surprisingly, by Larentia herself. From behind Akechi's legs, she glances up at him with a reluctant expression and her voice, when she speaks, is full of incertitude.

"What? A-are you sure?"

The smile on Akechi's lips is terrible, full of malice and madness. "I am. It's time we put an end to this ridiculous charade. Call him!"

By then, everyone has once again switched to defensive poses, but they all glance at each other in confusion and wariness. Robin Hood has proven mostly ineffective against the team's strategy, but it might be that Larentia hasn't yet shown the full extent of her persona's powers.

Despite the impending battle, Kirahé is still on the opposing side of the battlefield, as if she can't bring herself to let go of her tenuous connection with Akechi's daemon.

"Larentia, please!" she calls out, taking a step forward again to close the gap between her and their opponents. "We don't want to fight you!"

"Kirahé, get back!" Dahorgain shouts. "It's too dangerous!"

"She's going to get herself killed!" Fara growls, already fizzling with Captain Kidd's electricity as she readies herself for battle.

All around them, the other daemons are doing the same, their personas one shout from being summoned.

"Guys, please, wait," Akira orders, trying to hold them back with a placating hand as his gaze darts from Kirahé to Larentia with desperate hope.

For a moment, it looks like Larentia is going to listen to Kirahé, as she doesn't follow Akechi's order immediately, instead staring fretfully between Kirahé and her human. But then, in a sudden movement, as if trying to act before she loses her courage, she steps forward in front of Akechi again, her battle stance firm despite her obvious reluctance.

Akira wants to tell her not to do this, not when she's so obviously unwilling to hurt them, but he doesn't have the time to speak, because at that moment, Larentia's shape ripples, her body engulfed by the blue flames of a summoning. But she doesn't shapeshift into Robin Hood's bulky form, no. The transformation looks painful, jerky and uncontrolled, like the one of a young daemon still unused to shifting. The fire surrounding her turns into a malevolent scarlet, and at her sides, Akechi cackles gleefully as his own outfit melts into a black attire adorned with claws and belts, a dark mask settling on his face. It should feel like a victory, this final confirmation, that Akechi IS the Black Mask they've been searching for, but right now, it's the last thing on Akira's mind.

Because the black and white stripped persona that emerges from the flames, towering over them all, isn't Robin Hood at all. And Akira's breath catches in his throat, and he can feel Kirahé's shock all the way across their bond. The knowledge slams into him with the force of a sledgehammer, flooding his mind with this simple truth:

They are like us.

All around them, their friends are letting out shouts of surprise, Morgana the most vocal of them all. But Akira can barely hear them through the thoughts buzzing in his head, threatening to drown him and Kirahé under a wave of sudden comprehension.

How many nights have they spent listening to Morgana's soft snores while trying to understand what made them so special, so different? Just like a daemon only has one form when reaching adult stage, they can only have one persona, representative of who they choose to be. But Kirahé, she'd been able to shift between personas from the start, as easily as she flowed from one shape to another when they were kids. And Akira, he's always been able to change and adapt to become what other people needed him to be. A friend, a confident, a big brother, a muse, an apprentice. Masks upon masks upon masks...

It's not something that should be possible. It's not something that other people do. All this time, Akira and his daemon have been alone with questions that only they need the answers for. The other thieves are curious for their sake, but they don't feel the same desperate need to understand what they are. Even Morgana sees their unique abilities more as useful tools than a mystery to solve.

All this time, they thought they were alone. And now...

It seems so obvious now, why they were so fascinated by Akechi and his daemon from the start. Why they kept coming back again and again for the boy who lied to them as soon as they met, for the daemon who seemed more than what she proclaimed herself to be. Why they felt such a kinship to these two beings, despite the gap of ideologies separating them.

Akechi has another mask. Larentia has another persona. Akira and Kirahés's world has just gotten bigger and fuller at the same time.

It takes them precious seconds to react, and for a moment, Kirahé stands frozen at the feet of the dangerous-looking persona, at her most vulnerable. But then, Larentia raises the giant sword in a wide arc above her, and the combined cries of the Phantom Thieves are enough to bring Akira and his daemon out of their stupor. Kirahé jumps back with a pitiful mewl, and the sword slams where she was an instant before.

But the movement was telegraphed enough that it would have been easy to avoid anyway.

The same can't be said for Akechi's. In an instant, he's upon them once again, clashing blades and fighting like a beast as if the reveal of his true self had given him a new strength. The Thieves are still stunned by the change, and they're all scrambling a bit to adapt to the sudden violence that Akechi is displaying. But soon enough, they're fighting back for their lives once again, sending grim-faced accusations at the other boy all the while. In their midst, Akira has turned his dagger in a defensive stance, but the gesture is half-hearted at best.

Please stop. I don't want to fight you. The words form on the tip of his tongue, but he's too overwhelmed to say them out loud, not with the rejection so clearly painted on Akechi's furious features. He is terrified, unwilling to hurt the other boy, but Akechi seems determined to push him into hurting him back, as he directs most of his attacks at Akira. Akira grits his teeth against the onslaught, and more than once, he can see openings in Akechi's stance that could easily turn the fight to their advantage, but he refuses to take them, instead parrying and dodging the wide arcs of the serrated sword as best as he can.

Larentia doesn't hold back as much this time. It's as if she resigned herself to the inevitable, as if there isn't any other way out than by fighting and defeating them. Her new persona is a powerhouse, and her spells are devastating, bringing the Phantom Thieves to their knees one by one. Despair threatens to overwhelm Akira. She was his last hope to a peaceful resolution, the only one capable of convincing Akechi to put an end to this madness and give them a chance. But it is clear she's unable to stop now, backed into a corner through the necessity of protecting her human against his enemies.

He's losing them. He's losing them and it hurts so much. Kirahé does her best to protect him, her own spells defensive only, as if she too can't bring herself to hurt them. But they're losing ground bit by bit, the only ones still standing with the other Thieves falling back in exhaustion.

Akechi is relentless in his assault, hounding Akira's steps and not giving him a chance to escape. His words are accusations thrown at Akira's face with the force of a slap.

"Look at how pathetic you are, Joker! Even now, on the verge of losing everything you stand for, you can't bring yourself to fight me!"

The serrated sword clangs harshly against Akira's knife, and he deflects it as best as he can, but it doesn't stop Akechi from trying to hurt him in other ways.

"Stop your fucking martyr act and do what you do best! The hero has to slay the monster after all, huh?!"

"Please stop," Akira whispers in a voice he can barely recognize, deformed as it is by the lump in his throat.

"This isn't a fucking game! Fight me, or I'll start killing your friends one by one! Is that what you want?!"

"Stop..."

"You won't be able to hold back forever! If you don't fight back, you might as well lie down and die! Coward, you fucking coward..."

"STOP!"

The shout comes from his chest unbidden, as he puts all his strength into pushing Akechi away, forcing them once again at a safe distance. The other boy stumbles back toward his daemon-turned-persona before he regains his footing, panting harshly in the hot air of the engine room.

Akira himself isn't faring much better, exhaustion beckoning him to give up. But he won't, not when he and Kirahé are the last rampart against complete disaster. As long as Akechi tires before him, as long as Akira can hold on for just a bit longer, then no one will get hurt, Akechi included.

He gathers his resolve and reaffirms his grip around his dagger's hilt, holding it in a defensive stance, ready to take anything that the other boy will throw at him until Akechi's anger has abated, ready to put his life on the line if it means everyone he holds dear will survive this day. Above him, Kirahé does the same, the wings of her Persona curling over them, protective. Their message is clear. No one will get hurt on their watch. Neither the Thieves, nor Akechi.

"This isn't enough, huh?" Akechi says through gritted teeth, staring down at them. "You're like cockroaches, always surviving despite what's thrown at you." He sneers at Akira, before a dangerous glint lights his eyes. "Fine. Fine! That's how you want to play? I won't hold back anymore! Larentia, Call of Chaos!"

Something in the way he says it fills Akira's chest with ice. He has no idea what it is, but he knows it's something that must be prevented at all costs, especially when he sees the menacing persona behind Akechi jerk back in horror.

"What?!" Larentia's voice rises, distorted and echoed by the voice of her persona. "On you?! Goro, no!"

"Did I fucking stutter?!" Akechi's eyes are locked onto them with an expression bordering on manic, but Akira can see the desperation underneath. "Do it, Larentia!"

"But we don't know what it will do to you!"

"I don't give a shit what it does to me!"

Akira doesn't need to hear the "no, this is too much" escaping from Larentia to intervene. A numbing terror has taken hold of him, at whatever Akechi means to do to himself.

"Please don't," he begs the other boy, voice shaking. "Akechi, whatever it is, don't..."

It earns hims a hateful glare, and Akechi snaps at him:

"Stop this fucking act, you have no idea what we're talking about!"

"If it's something that will hurt you, I don't want that, okay?!"

"What do you care about what happens to me?!" Akechi seethes. "Why don't you turn your misplaced sympathy towards your friends instead?!"

"Because you ARE my friend, you idiot!"

It's clear Akechi has something to retort to that, but he cuts himself off to turn bewildered eyes towards Larentia. She's switching again, the black and white persona disappearing and leaving behind only her smaller shape, curled up into a shameful ball, her soulful eyes wide with fear.

"The fuck are you doing?!" Akechi snarls at her.

She shakes her head frightfully. "I can't, Goro... I won't..."

"We talked about this! It's either us or them! If we don't fucking kill him, it's the end of the line for us!"

The desperation in Akechi's voice is clearer than ever, as if he's vainly trying to convince himself of the veracity of his own words. But she doesn't recall the strange persona, instead slinking away from Akechi and closer to the Thieves, still shaking her head in denial.

"No… Goro, no, this is too much… I-I can't do this, please, we can't do this…"

"Why are you so fucking useless?!" Akechi turns his gaze towards Akira with a hateful snarl. "He wants to die for us so much, why don't we grant him his wish, for good this time?!"

"No!" Larentia protests. "No, I won't! It hurt us too much last time!"

Last time… the interrogation room?

"Stop stalling! We want to destroy him!"

Her anguished voice rises, a hint of revolt in her tone. "We don't! This is not what we want!"

Akechi lets out a fearsome, wordless shout, so full of frustration that Akira cringes in sympathy. It is as if he's realizing the futility of trying to convince his daemon, and without her help, there is no way he'll be able to win the fight anymore.

"Goro, please," Larentia cries softly. "Let us stop. I don't want to do this anymore…"

She sounds like a terrified child, there's nothing left of the condescending haughtiness she displayed in their previous encounters.

"We can't lose here," Akechi's voice breaks, disbelief tainting his every word. "Not so close, not when we were almost ready to take on Shido. No. No, no, NO! I won't give up now, I will have my revenge against this bastard, I won't let you stop me, I'll kill anyone who stands in my way!..."

He talks like he wants to convince himself, like if he shouts it loud enough, it will become reality. But Akira can see the terror in Akechi's eyes, the despair at the realization that the obstacle standing in the way of his revenge is not one he can overcome. Not because he isn't strong enough, but because his heart will not let him.

The dagger slips between Akira's gloved fingers and falls to the ground with a clang, but he barely acknowledges it. His whole being is tuned to the other boy, the pain in his chest an echo of Akechi's, faced with his shattered dreams. Akechi, who built so much of his life around his revenge, who painted his hands with blood for it, who sacrificed everything that was good in him just to get one step closer to it... and who now has to accept that it was all for nothing.

"You'll get your revenge," Akira blurts out at him.

On the other side of the room, Akechi freezes.

"What?..." he says in bafflement.

"You'll get your revenge," Akira repeats, a little more certain. "You... This isn't the end for you both, alright? I heard what you said earlier, and... this isn't the end, okay?"

He glances towards his friends, all of them tiredly getting back on their feet and staring at Akechi warily, and some of his determination comes back to him.

"We can work together. Steal Shido's heart, have him face justice. I know it's not what you planned, but... he'll have to atone for what he did, to you, your mother and so many others. He'll live the rest of his life with the regrets, and the guilt will keep on tormenting him."

There's a well-buried part of Akira, darker than the rest, that feels a sick sense of satisfaction at the thought of Shido suffering. Even more so, now that he knows the truth behind Akechi's miserable childhood. But more than revenge, there's something else he can offer to the other teen, something, he feels, that might be even more important to Akechi and his daemon, even if they won't acknowledge it. With a softer voice, Akira says:

"And we'll get the chance to work together, for good this time. Like we should have from the start. You... you belong with us, Akechi. I'm sorry we weren't there for you when you needed us, I'm sorry the two of you had to face it all alone. I wish we could have met sooner too, you know? If I could go back in time and be there at your side when you discovered your powers, I would. But..."

He turns towards his friends again and sees comprehension on their faces. Comprehension and acceptance. They all met when their circumstances were at their direst, and had they not found each other on time, Akira shudders to think of the consequences. Shiho was bad enough.

What would have become of each of his friends, if the Phantom Thieves hadn't been together when they discovered the Metaverse? Left alone with powers that could kill a man and faced with an abuser that they had no other recourse against, wouldn't they have followed the same path as Akechi?

He can see the guilty acknowledgment on his teammates faces, the compassion towards someone that could have been any of them, and the slight nods they give him in reply to his silent question. Grateful, Akira turns back towards Akechi and his daemon.

"...But we're here now. We can't change the past, but we can decide what to do from now on. And... and there's still a place for the both of you at our side, so... Akechi, Larentia, would you like to join us and become part of the Phantom Thieves?"

His heart is beating so fast and so hard. Akira has never been more overcome by emotion than in this instant. There's so much in the balance, if only he could make Akechi see, if only Akechi gave himself the chance he should have gotten all those years ago, to be among people who understood and accepted him as he was.

But it's clear that his words are too unthinkable for Akechi to believe. After a moment of baffled silence, he lets out a dismissive scoff.

"Are you joking?! As if... as if I want to be part of your... your group of fucking do-gooders! You think I didn't already get sick of you all when we went through Sae's palace?! Larentia and I, we don't need teammates, we never did! So you can take your fucking offer and choke on it, you fucking trash!"

The vehemence in his reply squeezes Akira's entrails like a vice. For a moment, he thought he detected a note of yearning in the detective's voice, but Akechi is too proud to let himself be swayed so easily.

But where Akechi is violently rejecting his offer, Larentia stays silent. She's been staring at both Akira and her human for the past minute, back and forth, her eyes wide with indecision. So Akira turns to her, begging her silently, his whole soul praying that she will not reject his words so decisively.

She looks like she can't quite believe the truth behind his offer either. But something in Akira's speech must have still resonated with her, because for the first time, something that looks like wary hope passes through her golden eyes.

"We liked being with you," she whispers suddenly, like a confession pulled from the recess of her heart. "We liked being part of the team."

Behind her, Akechi flinches violently. "…What the fuck are you saying?!" He says in disbelief, his voice tinted with panic.

But it's like a dam has been broken. Larentia ignores him and keeps talking, words tumbling over each other in a rush. "We d-didn't want it to end! It made us happy, even though we knew it couldn't last. It was supposed to be an act, but it wasn't, deep down we really enjoyed it!…"

"Shut up!" Akechi howls at her, furious and terrified. "Larentia, shut up right now!"

She's got her tail between her legs now, but still she ignores her other self's injunctions to stop, her wide eyes focusing on Akira with something akin to desperation. "Being accepted by you, it was the best thing ever. We liked fighting at your side, we liked how you looked at us, like we were worth..."

There's a terrible noise coming from behind her, and then Akechi is moving, wild-eyed, his hand reaching for his gun so fast that no one has the time to intervene. "Shut up, SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

Everyone howls in shock and terror as Akechi points the gun at Larentia, and Akira shouts and jumps towards them, but he's not fast enough. Akechi fires, and there's a loud yelp, and for a horrifying moment, he truly believes that Akechi just put a bullet into his own daemon. But the bullet hit wide, ricocheting on the metal floor beside Larentia, and although she is frozen and cowering, she's unharmed, and Akira feels almost dizzy with relief.

"Are you insane?!"

Kirahé has jumped between Larentia and Akechi, staring at him with her grey fur bristling with anger. It's like she has forgotten her own fear, or maybe, like Akira, the fear for her own safety has been eclipsed by the fear for Larentia and Akechi's well-being.

"Get out of my way!" Akechi howls at Kirahé. He's still pointing the gun in his daemon's direction, eyes wide with madness and anger. "Get out of my way, or I'll fucking shoot you too!"

An anguished noise builds up in Akira's chest and he pushes himself forward, ready to place himself in front of Kirahé and Larentia, but Makoto and Yusuke hold him back just in time, hands gripped around his arms, preventing him from launching himself blindly into this hair-trigger situation.

"Don't you dare, Akechi..." Futaba is white as a sheet and shaking, her hands clenched into fists in Totoh's shaggy fur, but her low voice is full of steel. "Don't you fucking dare..."

"What is wrong with you?!" Kirahé snaps at the detective, still trying to block Akechi's line of sight, no matter how impossible it is to hide the bulk of Larentia's curled up body behind her own sleek form. "She's your own daemon, why would you even point a gun at her?!"

"She's fucking pathetic, that's what she is!" The fury in Akechi's voice is terrifying, and made even more terrible by the fact that it's directed at his own daemon. "Still clinging to some stupid dreams of friendship, as if we haven't learned better by now!"

With a whine, Larentia flattens herself against the floor, back still turned to Akechi, eyes and ears lowered in shame.

"They're not stupid dreams!" Kirahé shouts at him. "She has a right to seek companionship and so do you! Akira and I always considered you friends! Why can't you just open your eyes?!"

Akechi sneers at her. "You're as pathetic as her! We have no need for people like you!"

"Don't you?" Ryuji cuts him off with a scowl, clearly fed up. "Look where it brought you! The both of you are literally self-destructing at this point! You need help, dude, and what's pathetic is that you'd rather keep living like this than acknowledge it!"

"You know nothing about me or what I went through, you monkey-brained idiot! So don't you dare-"

Ryuji snarls.

"You think I don't know about shitty fathers and how much they mess you up?! Think again! I might be an idiot but at least I'm man enough to swallow my pride and let my friends pull me up when I need it!"

"Though there is nothing shameful in allowing others to share your burden," Yusuke adds gravely. "It is not weakness, but strength, to accept help and let others bolster you up when you falter, instead of trying to weather the storm alone and letting it erode you down to nothing."

"Yeah dude," Ryuji agrees fiercely, "just like he said."

"Well good for you!" Akechi sneers, his voice laced with derision. "Why do you look so proud of yourselves? Because you found people to listen to your sad stories?! Friends are for weaklings like you who aren't capable of fending for themselves!"

"You're wrong!" Morgana interjects loudly. All the Thieves jump at his sudden interruption, but he ignores them, taking a brave step forward to face Akechi. "Friends are for everyone, no matter how weak or strong you are!" He straightens himself, holding himself tall, despite his short stature, and Akira has never been more proud of him. "They can be hard to find, and even harder to hold on to, but the bonds we make, they're part of who we are, what makes us whole!"

For a moment, Morgana turns towards them, expression softening as he meets their eyes. "For so long, I thought that the only thing that mattered was finding back my human, that I would never be complete as long as I was separated from them. But these guys showed me that it doesn't matter who you are or what you are. They don't mind that you're different from them, or that you're not perfect, or that you make mistakes. No matter what you think, there will always be people willing to accept you just as you are."

Down on the ground, Larentia's ears twitch, and she tentatively raises her eyes to the Phantom Thieves. It's like Morgana gave her back the courage that Akechi's missed bullet stole from her, because slowly, shakily, she starts crawling in their direction. Her gaze searches Akira's, holding onto it, beseeching him.

On the other side of the group, Ann takes a step forward in turn, facing Akechi's seething rage head on. "Morgana's right," she says softly. "Friendship is part of our lives, not something that you can reject without denying yourself of so many good things." She lowers her eyes and twists one of her pigtails in her hands, and Azalir coos softly at her. "...It can be hard sometimes. It means sharing the pain of your friends, and accepting that you can't always solve their problems, only offer comfort and support. But it also means that you have people to share your own pain with, that you don't have to face it alone with only your daemon as support."

"What a bunch of crap," Akechi spits, tone vibrating with contempt. "Do you really think this kind of sentimental speech will change anything?!"

"It will if you are willing, Akechi," Makoto says firmly. "You and Larentia might be used to doing things alone, but I don't think you truly are happy. I understand your need for revenge, but life shouldn't be all about that. Or are you willing to let your grievances with your father rob you of any chance at a better life that might come your way? Didn't he already take far too much from you, for you to also sacrifice your happiness because of him?"

"What happiness?!" Akira's heart twists when Akechi's voice breaks in the middle of the word. "You think someone like me could find any happiness other than by seeing that bastard get the fucking retribution he is due?!"

The look in Makoto's eyes softens. "I know you could, if only you stopped for a moment and took a look around you. There are so many other things more worthy of your time and dedication. You're smart, you have courage and determination, and you could do so much good with those skills... It pains me to see you waste your potential on someone like him..."

"You don't understand," Akechi cuts her off harshly. "You can't understand. This," he says with a encompassing wave over himself and Larentia, "this is who we are, who we've always been, and this isn't something that is going to change, no matter what you say!"

"Why not?" Haru asks with a slight frown. "What makes you think you can't change?" When Akechi goes to reply, she talks over him firmly. "Because I think, Akechi-kun, that you're just making excuses to avoid facing your mistakes. It is so much easier to continue blindly down the path you're on than to admit you made a wrong turn, isn't it? So, if not for pride, why would you reject a better path for yourself?"

"Are you blind?!" Akechi seethes. "Because it's too late! There's no... There's no changing one's nature! Just like our daemons! And look at her!" Akechi says, pointing at Larentia. "She's a wolf! Everyone knows what it means!"

He says it as if it explains everything, as if they're supposed to understand why it would prevent them from switching sides.

"Hm..." Futaba offers tentatively. She's fiddling with the material of her gloves, clearly uncomfortable with making herself the center of everyone's attention. "Just so you know, I think your daemon is beautiful, and her fur is all soft-looking like a big plushie, and she's doesn't look as scary as you make her seem to be."

A soft whine escapes from the crawling shape of Larentia, and her pleading eyes dart toward Futaba with something akin to gratefulness. The praise helps her regain some confidence as she renews her effort to get closer to them, and Futaba's expression softens a bit at her reaction as she adds:

"I know what it's like, to have a daemon that people are afraid of. Everyone looks at us funnily, they think we're weird, they don't want to be seen with us. But there will always be idiots like that, who think they know us better than we do. Doesn't mean we have to believe what they say." Behind her shoulder, Totoh blinks his big eyes at Akechi, his long fingers drifting soothingly in Futaba's hair. She sends a comforting smile at her daemon, and Totoh nuzzles against her cheek gently, before she continues with more confidence: "The people that really matter to me, they know that Totoh is awesome, and they like him, and that's enough for me. Just because he looks like he does, it doesn't mean that we're cursed. And," she adds, more tentatively, "just because Larentia is a wolf, it doesn't mean you're monsters..."

A wave of murmured agreements spreads through the Thieves and their daemons, even the most wary ones like Fara and Dahorgain. On the other side of the room, Akechi looks stunned, his turmoil evident even half hidden under his mask. He shakes his head, chokes on his first attempt to speak, then, in a hoarse voice, he protests:

"Lies... You're... you're lying..."

It's obvious that Futaba is ready to defend her opinion, but Akechi cuts her off with a shout.

"How can you, of all people, tell me this?!" Their whole group tenses at his sudden outburst, even more so as he continues. "Have you already forgotten what she did to you, what the both of us did to you?! She's a killer, just like I am! You think people are gonna forgive this little fact?"

His words settle over the group like lead, the sudden reminder dousing their hopeful expressions like a cold burst of icy wind. Down on the ground, Larentia freezes at the words, and Akira feels his heart clench painfully when he sees the small flicker of hope in her eyes waver and turn into hesitation, then dread.

"That's right, we killed people!" There's a note of triumph mixed with desperation in Akechi's voice. It's like he's afraid of letting himself be swayed by their words, and his only way out of it is trying to hold on to every last one of his arguments. "What do you have to say to that, huh?!" he continues as if he sensed a weakness. "Would you really call a killer a friend? There's no place for monsters like us! Who in their right mind would accept us?! Who in their right mind would hold any love for us?!"

"I do."

For a strange, detached moment, Akira wonders who said that, before realizing that it was him. His voice had been stuck in his throat ever since Akechi's gun came into play, but now, the words come out with an ease that feels almost instinctive. Because it is important, far too important, and no matter how much he fears everyone's reactions, he knows he can't let this go on any longer.

"I do," he repeats, taking a small step forward, not daring to look at his friends. Instead, he captures Akechi's gaze and doesn't let go of it, as his voice comes out, gaining assurance the more he talks.

"The Akechi I got to know these past few months... he's not just a killer. He's smart, perceptive, and driven like no other. He enjoys challenges, and jazz music, and the reboot of Featherman Ultimate."

Behind him, Futaba makes a protesting noise, quickly shushed by the rest of the team. Akira ignores them and continues.

"He likes to show off, and to see people recognize and appreciate his skills. He can quote philosophers and spout random fish facts that he probably learned just for the occasion, but still make it sound endearing instead of patronizing. He barely tolerates sweets, but he really likes Jamaïcan coffee and the salted snacks that Muhen-san serves us when we go to his bar. And he also does this really dorky little dance step whenever he's the one to land the last blow in a fight, and it's a bit ridiculous, but it's nice too, because it shows that he wants to have fun, just like the rest of us."

He doesn't try to hide the soft smile that made its way to his lips. Farther ahead, Akechi gapes at him, gun slack in his grip, and Akira hopes it's not a prelude to a new burst of anger. But Akechi doesn't interrupt him, seemingly frozen by his words. So Akira continues softly, his tone a little bit more somber.

"This Akechi, he's a killer, but more importantly, he has dedicated his whole existence to getting justice for his mom, even though he had to sell his soul to the devil for it. He hurt us, but we were in the way of the one thing that mattered the most to him. He betrayed us, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't as easy a decision as he wants us to believe..."

He pauses for a few seconds, to give the chance to Akechi to refute his words. The other boy's posture has slipped bit by bit into something more defensive, shoulders slightly raised, the shape of his mask obscuring his features. As the silence stretches, Akechi wets his lips and parts them, but no words comes forth, just a shaky breath, and after a moment, Akira nods to himself, before adding more gently.

"There's so much more to you than what you believe yourself to be... And... and maybe I hate the fact that you betrayed us and that you tried to shoot me, maybe I hate the fact that you killed people and hurt my friends, but..." He can feel his voice shaking, but he still continues, with as much confidence as he can muster despite the mess inside his heart. "But I love all the time we spent together and the fun we had, how under the detective persona, you're secretly just a teenage nerd like me, and how you so obviously enjoyed yourself when you let yourself have fun with us. And I also love that you never gave up your goal, despite everything you had to go through, that you didn't let that shitty world snuff out the spark inside you, and that you still found the strength to carry on even though there was no one you could rely on."

It's hard to keep hold of his brave front, but Akira still tries, and he switches to a casual pose, hands in his pockets and head tilted, peering at Akechi from behind a few curls of hair.

"So, there's a lot of bad in you, but there's also a lot of good. And..." his voice breaks, so he clears his throat and tries again. "And if accepting the bad means that I get to hold on to all these good parts of you, well... I think it's worth it." A pause, then quieter. "So very worth it."

His eyes dart away, unable to watch the expression on Akechi's face, and he adds:

"Because… Well. I like you. A lot."

There. He said it.

Maybe it wasn't the best place and time for such a confession, and he belatedly worries over the fact that maybe he should have kept that last part for himself. But another part of him firmly believes it was the right moment. That Akechi deserves to know the full extent of how much he means to Akira.

He still can't bring himself to look at the other boy, not yet, so his eyes dart fretfully towards his teammates. He can see uncertainty on Futaba and Haru's face, but there is no outright anger or rejection, just little smiles of comfort sent his way. Just like always, they trust him and support him, and part of the nervous knot in Akira's chest loosens up at their reassurance.

His gaze drifts down towards Larentia and a wave of emotion threatens to submerge him. She's looking up at him, her eyes so full of longing and devotion, as if he just hung the moon for her. A pitiful whine escapes her as she squirms another bit closer, as if she can't help herself but reach for him, despite Akechi's threats.

But Akechi doesn't try to stop her again.

With tentative hope, Akira finally turns his eyes towards the other boy. He hasn't moved, still stunned, it seems, by Akira's confession. His lips are parting and closing as if he doesn't know what to say, his head shaking slightly in denial.

"You can't…" he finally says, his voice choked with repressed feelings, "you can't just say that and…"

"I just did," Akira replies, his self-consciousness slowly superseded by his determination. He feels more certain of himself by the minute and ready to defend his point tooth and nail if Akechi tries to dissuade him.

Akechi hisses. "You say it like... like..."

"Like it's the truth," Akira cuts him off firmly, gaze locked onto his, daring him to disagree.

It earns him a "tch" from Akechi, who breaks the staring contest first, instead settling his scowl on his daemon. She's still crawling away from him, inch by inch, her pleading eyes firmly set on Akira as if he is her only hope for salvation. Her progress is painfully slow, her cowering form not daring to lift her belly and head from the ground, even with Kirahé hovering protectively behind her. Some obscure emotion traverses Akechi's face as he watches her.

"Stop this, Larentia," he barks at her. And after his order gets ignored, he repeats, louder: "I said stop this!"

It's clear he was aiming for confidence, but the anxiety in his voice is clear as day, his words a desperate attempt to regain some control. She doesn't obey, instead hastening her movements and letting out soft little imploring noises as if begging the Thieves for asylum. Behind her, Akechi makes a sound of dismay and an aborted movement in her direction, clearly rattled by his daemon's insubordination. His anxiety is even more obvious, slowly blending into fear.

Kirahé slowly takes a step towards him, seeking Akechi's gaze until she catches it.

"Don't," she begs him softly. "Please, Akechi, give it a chance. Give her a chance."

Larentia is the only one who still holds hope for the both of them, where Akechi himself has given up and believes them to be irredeemable. He is shaking his head even as Kirahé is speaking, eyes becoming wider and terrified the more the situation slips from his fingers.

"It's useless," he says shakily, "it won't change a thing!..."

"Please."

"No one would really accept us... Not with what we did..."

"We accept you, I promise."

Akechi's certainty falters bit by bit, just like inch by inch, his daemon drags herself almost at Akira's feet. But the denial is hard to shake, and he clings to it like a kid to his mother's hand.

"We're... we're fucking monsters!..." He spits out. "Monsters don't deserve anything like that!..."

Akira bites his lip at the self-hatred that seeps through Akechi's voice. He can't bear to see such emotions on the other boy's face and hates himself for not being able to do something about it. He longs to reach out to Akechi, to reassure him, but he knows such a gesture would not be accepted. Instead, he swallows a shout of frustration and lets Kirahé give voice to what he wishes to say so desperately.

"You're just like us. We're the same. You can have us. You don't have to be alone..."

"Stop saying this! You can't mean this, you can't..." Akechi cries out, like he still cannot bring himself to believe her, even after everything.

Powerless, Akira's gaze falls to Larentia. She's still shivering on the floor, too scared to look back at Akechi, her imploring gaze pinned to Akira instead. It hurts, to see her like this, so pitiful, so desperate, still whining and begging, trying to come closer even though it must be painful for both her and Akechi with how far they are from each other by now. Akira glances at Kirahé, then back at Larentia, miserably pulling away inch by inch from her other self as if seeking refuge by his side, as if looking for a physical proof that there is still hope for them. Akira can't stand seeing her like this, alone and desperately reaching out for someone. And faced with her pleading eyes, the decision is made before he can truly comprehend it.

Slowly, Akira crouches down and offer his hand to her.

A second later, Larentia tips forward with a sob of relief.

On the other side of the room, Akechi makes a sound like a dying animal.

He can hear the rest of the team gasp, but the sound is distant, muffled by the blood pumping in his ears. Akira stays frozen, barely able to wrap his head around what is happening. His whole being is stuck in a spiral of distant panic, a deafening chorus of it's not Kirahé, not Kirahé, not Kirahé clamoring in his mind.

He's heard of this, of people breaking the taboo, of daemons seeking the touch of romantic partners. But never in such a context. Akechi is not his lover, barely even his friend. No matter how much Akira wishes for such a bond, Akechi hasn't given any sign of returning his sentiments, and certainly not to the degree that would allow the intimacy of such an act.

Touching someone else's daemon should be horrifying. And nausea churns in Akira's guts as he becomes hyper-aware of the warmth under his hand, the pressure against his palm, the fur parting between his gloved fingers. Larentia's hair is longer and coarser than Kirahé, and the sensation feels so alien that a part of Akira's mind seems to completely reject the reality of it. And yet she's here, shivering under his touch, her soulful eyes wide with shock, hope and terror. And somehow, despite the queasiness twisting Akira's guts, this feels right.

Larentia lets out a small cry, and suddenly, he's got his arms full of a trembling wolf, pressing against him so tightly that it seems she wants to fuse with him.

She needs this, he realizes. Needs the touch and the reassurance and the sheer connection to someone else. Akechi has no family, no close friends. She's the part of him that he denies and scorns, "weak" and "sentimental" because she yearns for something that was denied to them for so long. How long has it been, since she felt a friendly touch? Years, Akira's mind whisper to him. Throat tight with emotion, he buries the nausea caused by breaking the taboo deep within himself, and instead brushes a trembling hand along her fur, soothing her as much as he can. The gesture earns him a sound halfway between a whine and a sob, and suddenly there are tears in Akira's eyes.

Only now does he realize the depth of the feelings that Larentia holds within herself. Two beings worth of longing and hope, battered and bruised by being denied for so long, and now overflowing when given the chance to express themselves. He's overwhelmed by how much relief she feels, being finally seen and accepted as what she is, instead of the charade that she and Akechi have been playing for so long.

Akechi may hate that part of himself, but Akira loves it, loves them both, the part that yearns and hopes, and the part that fears and rejects. Because deep down, they're one and the same, no matter what Akechi might think.

He blinks away the tears and curls around Larentia, his face pressing against her ears. The thin barrier of his gloves is suddenly unbearable, and he tears them off hastily so that he can hold her just that little bit closer, let her feel his embrace as he cards his fingers down her back and in the thick fur of her neck. He needs her to know that he meant it, that he meant everything.

But not just her.

His throat is tight when he raises his head again and finds the courage to look at the other side of the room. Akechi is down on his knees, staring at them in mute stupor, face white as a ghost under his mask. He has his arms wrapped around his own torso, leaning helplessly towards them as his daemon breaks apart, seeking comfort in the arms of their proclaimed enemy. The pain in his eyes is heartbreaking, a mixed expression of loss and deep longing. Akira wonders if he can feel the hug through Larentia, feel the way Akira's fingers dig into her pelt and understand that this is for the both of them, not just for her.

The sight of Akechi alone, kneeling in shock and silent, abandoned by his own daemon, causes a deep wave of grief to well up in Akira's chest. He can't imagine what it must feel like, after a lifetime of being rejected, to see the other part of your own soul turn their back on you. The concept of Kirahé abandoning him like that is too painful to even contemplate, and Akira tightens his hold around Larentia instinctively as if she were his own daemon.

God, he loves them both so much. And he can't bear to see them in such a miserable state. He yearns to reach out and pull Akechi into the hug too, to hold him tight just like he's doing with Larentia, but the other boy is too far. The distance between them is unbearable, and Akira lets out a small noise of dismay at the realization that he can only give comfort to one of them, not both.

He seeks Kirahé's eyes and meets her gaze, full of hesitation and longing. She looks at him, then at Akechi, and Akira almost chokes when he understands what she intends to do. He knows the normal reaction, the one socially acceptable, would be to stop her, but the words won't come out, not with how much he yearns for it. His mouth is too dry, so he can only give Kirahé a tight nod.

He cannot believe they are doing this.

She approaches Akechi carefully. He's just as likely to accept her than he is to run his sword through her. The other boy is still frozen, collapsed into a resigned slump, but at her approach, his attention switches to her. He stares at her hollowly, his expression going from grief to blank confusion. Kirahé proceeds towards him, fear and hope visible in her posture and battling each other as she takes careful steps closer to him. Akira feels the tug on the bond and winces in pain as it stretches past the comfortable distance between human and daemon. His daemon pauses at arm's reach of Akechi, one paw raised in hesitation as if she doesn't know if she can come closer. She blinks at him and says softly:

"We're here. We accept you as you are."

Akira holds his breath and digs his shaking fingers into Larentia's fur, hoping with all of his heart. On the other side of the room, Akechi is frozen once again, his gaze - oh so intense - locked onto Kirahé with a single-minded focus that feels like Akira is trapped under his eyes just like her. He can't help but think back to all those times in Leblanc, the weight of Akechi's eyes on him whenever he had his back turned, just as intense, just as focused, following his every gesture. It had felt intoxicating, to be the center of the other boy's attention back then, just like it is now through Kirahé.

It could have been simple assessment of his future victim from Akechi's part. Him sizing up Akira, trying to find the best way to make him fall into his trap. But it always felt like more, like Akechi was barely holding back actions and emotions, ones that were screaming to be let out and were instead stifled under the pleasant mask of the detective prince.

But there's no mask to hide behind now, not anymore, not with the rawness of his soul exposed through Larentia's shivering form against Akira. Not with the knowledge that human and daemon are one and the same, and that their personalities can differ and clash, but in the end, the emotions driving them come from the same and unique heart.

Larentia was desperate to reach out and be accepted, and it can only mean that deep down... Akechi feels the same.

The other boy suddenly makes a broken noise, and not a second later, he's tearing out his helmet and throwing it on the ground, his clawed hands reaching out frantically and…

"Ah…" Akira exhales harshly, his breath cut away by the sudden assault of sensations. His skin breaks off in goosebumps, a violent shiver wracking his body.

He can feel the claws as if they were digging into his soul. Kirahé looks stunned from where she is, limp between Akechi's arms, cradled against his chest. Akechi is squeezing her so tight that it almost hurts, as if he won't ever relinquish his hold on her. But there is no fear coming from her, despite the danger. No trace of unwillingness, despite the metal grip holding her so forcefully.

Akira can feel the arms, can feel the desperation in them, as if Akechi is squeezing his own heart through Kirahé. But the touch isn't harmful, no. Akechi is holding onto them like a priceless treasure, one that he's terrified of seeing taken from him and ready to fight tooth and nail to keep. His hold is terrifyingly possessive and yet terrifyingly brittle, because, deep down, he must know that just holding onto them won't be enough to keep them from leaving him if that's what they really desire. But Akira has no intention of letting go of him, and neither does Kirahé.

All around them, the Phantom Thieves stay silent, too respectful, or most likely too stunned to interrupt the moment. The world is reduced to the four of them, to their souls intertwined with one another, a connection more intimate than the most passionate of embraces. Akira feels delirious with the rush of sensations, a gaping hunger for more of that dizzying touch, more of that impossible connection, a desperate longing for the boy holding his daemon so fervidly.

He holds Akechi's gaze across the empty battlefield and acknowledges the fierce expression on the other teen's face. Akechi looks almost feral, an impossible wildness to his eyes, as if he would kill anyone who tried to take Kirahé away from him. Akira understands him, oh, how he understands him... Right now, he would drive his knife into anyone that tried to separate him from Larentia.

She must feel some of the turmoil in his heart, because he can hear her voice, urgent and yet almost worshipful.

"He likes you too," she pleads against his chest, pressing her muzzle just a little bit closer to him. "I promise, he likes you too, so much... You're the first one who ever saw him... the only one..."

She leans against him without shame, without restraint, and he can't do anything but pull her closer still, although it never seems to be close enough. His fingers card reverently through her fur, removing the shredded remnant of her bandanna tangled around her neck so that he can run his hands all over her shivering body. He can feel the gauntlets sliding against him in return, claws running along his spine and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His heart is thundering in his chest, and with a breathless exhale, he buries his face into Larentia's fur once again.

"It's okay," Akira whispers to her as he carefully massages her heavy pelt and presses a gentle kiss to the top of her head, between her flattened ears, earning himself a pleading whine. "Shh... It's okay, sweetheart, we're here... You won't have to be alone ever again, I promise…"

He can hear Kirahé doing the same with Akechi, quiet words and soothing purrs rising from her small form as she gently headbutts his chin and rubs her face against his jaw. "We're not going anywhere, I promise," she says. "You've got us..."

From where he is, Akira can't quite see Akechi's face anymore, but he can feel the harsh exhales, almost like choked sobs, brushing over Kirahé's fur. Slowly, so slowly, the tension seeps out from him, leaving him feeling almost weightless as he leans against Larentia.

Deep down, he knows this isn't quite the end, that there's a lot they need to talk about still, that this doesn't necessarily mean that Akechi is ready to join them. Hell, there's most likely a lot of explosive arguments waiting for them in the near future, and they're probably going to need to repeat themselves a few times until Akechi fully believes he has a place among them. But right now, he and Larentia are safe, and they've accepted Akira's feelings, they're returning them, and Akira feels like he can take on the whole world for them.

He won't let anyone hurt them again. No matter what fate throws at Akechi and Larentia, Kirahé and he will be there for them. No more facing the world alone, no more hiding their true selves, no more hating who they are. Akira doesn't know where this will take them, but he'll make goddamn sure that Larentia gets all the affection that she ever wanted, and that Akechi never has a doubt about the place he occupies in Akira's heart.

"We'll make this right," he murmurs, as much for Larentia as for himself. "You'll see. Everything will be alright."

Except it's not.

Because a few minutes later, they're ambushed by Shido's cognition of Akechi. They're all tired from the fight, too slow to react, and when the creature raises its gun, there isn't a thing they can do to stop it.

Except for Akechi, who places himself in front of his double and takes the bullet meant for Kirahé.

"He's terribly lucky, you know? An inch higher, and it would have been his heart."

Takemi's words play on repeat in Akira's mind while he locks Leblanc's door behind her, and he barely remembers to flip the sign to "Closed" before he's slipping against the panned glass until he's sitting in a heap on the floor. He stares blankly at his hands, still stained by blood, still shaking. And then he laughs.

He can barely remember the battle against the cognitive double and his horde of shadows. It was spent under a haze of panic and despair as he fought to cross the battlefield, his eyes unable to tear themselves from the boy lying motionless on the cold steel floor on the other side of the room, unresponsive to Kirahé's frantic cries as she exhausted her magical reserves to keep him alive. And all the while, the goddamn cognition wouldn't die, like it was siphoning the life right out of Akechi, every second spent fighting it being a step closer to losing the other boy. They had never faced a battle as nerve-wracking and terrifying as this one had been.

It had been close, too close.

As soon as the cognition had been destroyed, they had rushed to Akechi's side, and together, they had managed to heal his wound in the nick of time. But still, it wasn't until Takemi had taken a look at Akechi and confirmed that there was no lasting damage that Akira had felt he could breath again.

Akechi was terribly lucky, yes. If his cognitive double hadn't been aiming so low, if instead of a small cat, he had been aiming at a fully grown wolf, the angle would have been just a bit higher, just high enough to go through Akechi's heart when he threw himself in front of the daemon to protect her.

There are some wounds that, deep down, they know their personas would not be able to heal. Just like Akira knows, deep down, that Akechi was supposed to die in that place. Had Kirahé not been by his side instead of Larentia, they would have lost the both of them today. Luck is too weak a word for what happened earlier.

A light snort, almost a sob, escapes his throat. A few years ago, Kirahé had settled as a cat because, according to her, Akira needed all the luck and the extra lives he could get, what with how often he got himself in trouble. He shouldn't be surprised that her good fortune seemed to extend to Akechi when he needed it the most.

Akira slowly shakes his head with a light smile. A quick glance at the clock tells him it is far too late for him to still be awake, and he's lucky Morgana chose to watch over Futaba and Totoh tonight. So, with a quiet sigh, Akira climbs to his feet, makes sure that he locked the door correctly, turns off the lights, then heads towards the attic and its current occupants.

While he makes his way up the stairs, he's hit with a sudden surge of nausea and wobbles for a few seconds, gripping the banister and taking deep breaths to calm himself. The nausea recedes with the realization of what's happening, although the rest of the sensations linger on. A thrilling shiver runs along his spine, and Akira is forced to close his eyes for a few seconds before he manages to climb the last few steps.

Akechi seems to have finally fallen asleep, exhausted by the ordeal from earlier. And Akira isn't surprised to find that Kirahé has moved from the desk to the bed, laying in the crook of the other boy's arm, head propped on Larentia's back as both daemons watch Akira approach.

Despite the dizzying sensation and excruciating awareness of every point of contact between Kirahé and Akechi, Akira manages to send a wry smile to the daemons. "You three seem cozy," he drawls.

"It feels nice," Kirahé replies in a purring voice. "They're warmer than you."

Akira hums because, knowing how cold-sensitive she is, he supposes that's reason enough to break the taboo some more. It's not like he has any say in this anyway. Kirahé made her choice, and Akira can only go with the flow, because, as they say, the daemon wants what the daemon wants. Or is it the heart? No matter, it's not like there's a difference.

He grabs his bag of toiletries and goes back downstairs to brush his teeth and change into his pajamas. All the while, he is acutely aware of Akechi's chest and arm pressed against Kirahé's body, can almost feel it against his own skin. It's like an itch he can't ignore, and he doesn't know if he wants to scratch it or leave it alone. The sensation is still strange, alien, pervasive, as if he's not quite alone inside his own body anymore, and Akira rubs at his chest thoughtfully, trying to wrap his mind around the feeling and make sense of it before giving it up as a lost cause. It's alright. He'll adapt, learn to live with it, and at no moment the thought crosses his mind that he could still back away from all of this. Just like Kirahé, Akira made his choice too.

Kirahé is dutifully grooming Larentia's fur when he comes back upstairs, and Akira holds back a smile as he folds his clothes away and put his phone on charge. His daemon isn't usually one to seek physical interactions with other daemons. She lets Fara playfully push her around with her nose, tolerates Azalir nesting on her head, and grumpily accepts Totoh rubbing her fur the wrong way. But she rarely initiates contact herself.

And yet, there she is, carefully licking Larentia's face and straightening the fur of her scrunched brow. The wolf daemon seems completely baffled by what's happening to her, but she submits to Kirahé's treatment with barely concealed eagerness.

"You're all sticky from those shampoo residues..." Kirahé grumbles. "Why do you let Akechi wash you with those? Don't you know how to clean yourself?"

Larentia averts her eyes with embarrassment. "Mom's daemon never taught me how," she mumbles. "And some spots are difficult to reach. So Goro helps me with baths whenever he can…"

"Hm. All those products are not good for your fur in the long term. I'll be the one to help you from now on."

Larentia doesn't reply, but there's such a delighted look in her eyes that it stirs something warm and sweet and far too fuzzy in Akira's chest.

He approaches the bed quietly. Akechi looks more alive than earlier, when they had to carry his and Larentia's unconscious bodies back to Leblanc. His breath is deep and regular, his expression relaxed, and his fingers slightly clenched over the sheets. But there's a light crease between his eyebrows, a small line of worry that Akira can't help but delicately brush his fingertips against. Akechi twitches slightly at the contact, but Larentia doesn't say anything, just watches his gestures attentively, so Akira doesn't immediately pull his hand back. Instead, he lets his fingers glide over Akechi's bangs for a moment, brushing them gently out of his face, and graze the tip of his ear with his thumb. When he finally pulls back, it seems that the other teen's expression has relaxed a bit in his sleep.

With the night completely fallen, the warmth from the heater is not enough to completely fend off the cold from the thin windows. The attic can get a bit chilly, so Akira grabs the quilt thrown over the foot of the bed and carefully pulls it over Akechi's sleeping form, taking care to also cover most of Kirahé and Larentia's bodies. He chuckles at the tail wagging sleepily under the bedspread and definitely doesn't shiver when a timid tongue gives his wrist a small lick of gratitude in passing.

When Akira turns off the attic's lights, Larentia makes a small noise, and although he can't quite see her expression in the dark, he pauses and waits, until she finally whispers:

"Please, take care of him…"

It's Kirahé who replies, voice firm and sure. "We'll take care of the both of you."

There's no reply, but Larentia seems to relax little by little, and she settles with her nose buried between her paws, a silent vigil tucked against Akechi and Kirahé's silhouettes.

The bed isn't made for three, even less so for four, so Akira glances mournfully at the small couch and resigns himself to a night of restless sleep. But before he can settle on the unyielding furniture, Kirahé's voice rises from the bed.

"Don't be an idiot, Akira."

He pauses and raises an eyebrow at her. Her eyes glow in the semi-darkness, staring at him unflinchingly, and he can see exactly where she's going with this. She knows him better than he knows himself after all, knows of the yearning and longing that dwell within his heart where Akechi is concerned. Her comment is like a dare thrown at him, one that he doesn't want to resist.

"There isn't room for all of us," he still says noncommittally.

"…There's room enough."

Larentia's reply is soft and timid, full of tentative hope, and Akira feels warmth burst inside his chest and redness creep upon his cheeks.

Because he knows she's speaking for the both of them now, and that the words are as much Akechi's as they are Larentia's.

So he pulls away from the couch without a glance back, hovers for a few seconds at the foot of the bed, before gingerly climbing between Akechi and the wall. He lays upon the mattress with a hum of contentment and tugs the quilt over him, and for a long moment, all is quiet as he lies in the darkness, gaze lost in the stars littering the ceiling, aware of the warm arm pressed against his own, and the other arm pressed against his soul. And then, he twists on his side to watch Akechi.

This close, with the street lights highlighting parts of his face, there is a myriad of details to study, from the light freckles barely visible on his cheeks to the delicate curve of his nose, the length of his eyelashes, the shadow of his parted lips. Akira nibbles the tip of his tongue pensively as he stares at the other boy, wonders for a moment when he stopped liking him and started loving him, before deciding that it's a question for tomorrow. He meets Kirahé's gaze over Akechi's chest, and without breaking eye contact, he unceremoniously slides his arm around the detective's waist. His hand meets fur, unfamiliar and foreign and not us, but by now, he's mostly accustomed to the strange twist in his guts, and the added sensation this new contact brings feels almost comforting and familiar. His fingers curl possessively into the long-haired fur, a deep sigh of happiness rises from somewhere on the other side of the bed, and Akechi shivers in his sleep before leaning against him in return. Kirahé narrows her eyes in satisfaction, before closing them, and it isn't long before Akira follows her into sleep.