Work Text:
The evening was strangely temperate for early February, though the atmosphere in LeBlanc was absolutely frigid. Akira stood in silence as Maruki left with the calling card. Akechi simply stood beside him, expectant.
“I can tell you’re thinking,” Akechi crossed his arms as Morgana slipped up the stairs. Was that his own doing, or did Maruki still have some sort of hold on him? The question haunted him more than he liked. That alone told him what his answer should be, but it didn’t make it easier to accept. “Spit it out.”
“I…” Akira hesitated. Instead, he made a move towards the bar. “Do you want a cup of coffee?”
“Akira,” The word was sharp as a knife. Akechi didn’t move, but he also didn’t need to. “Now is not the time for distractions.”
“It would be nice…”
“I don’t care about nice, I care about your choice. Now what will it be?”
Akira didn’t answer. The words refused to form in his throat. Instead of speaking, he turned away.
“Is that it then?” Akechi spit venom as he spoke. “Is the great Joker nothing more than a coward in the end? I expected this from your friends, but to think you would fold at the first sign of trouble-”
“First?” The word sprung without warning. Akira took a step forward. “If you think this is the first sign of trouble, you obviously haven’t been paying attention… But what else can I expect from someone who’s been dead for the past two months?”
“Is that what this is about?” The glare he received would be enough to kill if they were in the metaverse. “You have an important decision to make, there’s no time to focus on trivial-”
“Trivial?! Your life isn’t trivial Akechi!” Something inside him seemed to snap. “I care about you-”
“You would sacrifice the entire world for that!?” Burning anger mellowed into something much cooler, something almost vulnerable. “For me?”
Akira didn’t answer. There was really no way to win this. No amount of smooth words would get him what he wanted from this.
“Answer me!” Akechi grabbed him with both hands. He lifted him by the lapels with a reignited fury. “Explain to me why you think you have the right to choose what’s best for me!”
Akira allowed his head to lull to the side. He stared at Akechi with defeated eyes. “Why does everyone else get to be happy?”
“This isn’t happiness! The little fantasy you’re so insistent on living in is just that!”
“And what’s so wrong with that?” Akira grabbed Akechi’s hands. He could feel them trembling, though if it was with rage or something else, he wasn’t sure. “I know it’s not real… But why can’t we make it our reality?”
“You know why I could never accept this,” Akechi’s voice was low, unsteady.
“Then why are you putting the choice in my hands?” Akira held him tighter. “Everyone wants me to do what’s best. Even you won’t choose what we do so why can’t I be selfish for once?”
“Because this isn’t about you!”
“Then who is it about!?” Akira couldn’t help but laugh. It was desperate and mirthless as it rang through the cafe. “If I wasn’t here, there’d be no one to stop him!”
“I wouldn’t-”
“You wouldn’t be doing anything! You’d still be a dead eighteen year old who wasted two years of his life begging to be noticed!” Akechi recoiled. His hands easily slipped from Akira’s grasp. “Why do you even care if I take the deal when you won’t be around to see it either way?”
“I won’t live as a puppet ever again-”
“You’re not alive anyways!” Akira could feel his eyes growing wet. He still remembered the smell of the exhaust. The sound of the gunshot. “We could be happy, I could be happy! No one would have to suffer ever again!”
“Do you really believe that?” Despite how he wanted to appear, Akira could see the cracks in Akechi’s confident facade. He could see the fear waiting beneath his prickly exterior. “After what he did to Yoshizawa-”
“Don’t pretend like you care about Sumire!” Akira balled his fists. “What about what he did for Haru or Futaba!?”
“Those things were never real-”
“But what they felt was! They were happy- I- All those times… I just… Why?” Akira’s legs felt weak. He closed his eyes as he slid to the ground. “Why do I have to give up my only chance? Why do I have to be selfless all the time?”
Akechi hesitated, leaving Akira alone with his thoughts. It hurt. It had for a year now.
Finally, in a quiet voice, Akechi asked, “What is your answer?”
Akira looked up at him. At the mask carefully laid on his face. “I-I can’t-”
“I need to hear you say it.”
“...We’re going back.”