Chapter Text
“While I agree, Hegel never actually used those terms.”
Akechi paused, the next words caught in his throat.
“Excuse me?”
The boy, and possible (almost certainly) leader of the Phantom Thieves, shrugged his backpack strap up higher on his shoulder, shooting Akechi a cheeky grin.
“It was Fichte who coined the terms thesis and antithesis, not Hegel, you’re paraphrasing Fichte's interpretation of Hegel’s work.”
This…this fucking…where the hell did he get off? Akechi forced a good-hearted laugh. “Are you suggesting I should have begun with ‘to paraphrase Fichte’ instead?”
“That would have been more accurate.”
“Hegel is a more commonly recognized name, I assumed you'd be more likely to recognize-”
“If I don't know Fitche what's the point in discussing this topic with me at all?”
He just had to keep pressing it, didn't he? Akechi clenched the handle of his briefcase, knuckles turning white. This guy was turning out to be seriously fucking annoying. For him to have the gall to not only openly correct him, an A-list celebrity, but to interrupt his following attempt at an explanation?
“I underestimated your knowledge of philosophy, tell me, do they offer classes at Shujin?”
A mischievous shine lit up Amamiya’s unusually gray eyes.
“No, actually, I learned it from a friend of mine.”
Akechi had expected gaining Amamiya Ren’s trust to be a difficult process.
He had it all planned out. Gradually the detective would bump into his suspect more and more often, primarily in the mornings on his way to catch the train. He'd keep his interactions short and sweet, appearing pleased to see Amamiya but not overly eager. The eagerness would be saved until Amamiya’s responses to the detective became more natural and the other boy appeared pleased to see him as well. Akechi would then begin his frequent (but not too frequent) invites to hang out. Just the two of them of course, and occasionally in a setting that could be misconstrued as romantic. At first glance, it was difficult to pin where Amamiya’s preferences lie, a besotted thief was much easier to control than ‘just a friend,’ but he could work with either.
Whether the suspect viewed him in a romantic light or not, by the time Akechi needed to intervene directly with the Phantom Thieves, Amamiya would need to trust Akechi enough to allow him in and listen to his demands. Surely Amamiya’s braindead followers would take easily to whatever the oddly charismatic boy asked of them. If all went well they may never even need to know of Akechi’s influence on said requests.
Unfortunately, all did not go well, it was Amamiya who took the reins, Amamiya who sought Akechi out. Amamiya who gave Akechi his trust, no questions asked.
He was equal parts genuine kindness and veiled snark. He brought the detective thoughtful gifts; some useful and some decorative. Akechi had gone shell-shocked when the other boy presented him with a rare set of Featherman figurines, claiming that Akechi had mentioned interest in the series despite Akechi’s high certainty that he'd never let anything slip about his slight obsession. He grit his teeth and endured the boy’s gaslighting, played the part of grateful and touched. As much as he wanted to take the boxes handed to him and smash them to smithereens, he couldn’t allow himself to unjustly take his anger out on innocent Sentai characters.
He entertained Amamiya’s invites to play pool, darts, chess, all things Akechi loved but despised playing with him. The all honorable Phantom Thieves leader was inhumanly good at anything and everything he put his mind to. Akechi was forced to fight tooth and nail for every one of his checkmates, to direct his complete focus into every shot he lined up on the pool table. Hanging out with Amamiya became an exhausting task, often working Akechi’s mental muscles in a way they'd never been forced to before.
When all was said and done, Amamiya was his perfect rival, his true antithesis. As expected of that leader of the Phantom Thieves.
And Akechi fucking hated him for it.
But did that equate to wanting him dead?
Akechi sat at Leblanc's rustic counter, studying the shift of muscles in Amamiya’s back as he reached for the detective’s preferred blend. That was another aggravating thing about Amamiya. His perfect body. Akechi had gotten a glimpse of it when they went together to the bathhouse; However, he had been too caught up in inappropriately sharing too much about his tragic development of character to really digest how unfair it was for an seventeen year old boy to be built like that. Akechi himself was all bones, still carrying the appetite he'd developed to survive a long time ago.
In just a week or so the Phantom Thieves (and Akechi) would reach Niijima Sae’s treasure. They would change her heart, resulting in either ruining the woman’s life or greatly improving it, and then almost immediately Amamiya Ren would be arrested.
The boy in question turned to him, a soft smile gracing his face as he began the process of preparing a drink for the man he considered to be his friend.
The man, who while Amamiya was in custody, would shoot him dead.
“We’re going to have to order more of this, you're here so often.” Amamiya sounded pleased by his observation, assaulting Akechi with his gentle gaze. He was so lax, so comfortable and happy with Akechi in his presence. He was an idiot, a fool, a genius allowing himself to be led to the slaughter. Akechi fucking hated him. He hated him for allowing him to do this. To sit and drink his coffee. To accept his soft smiles and pleased words.
Careful to keep any hint of his molten disdain from slipping through, the detective mirrored his pleasantness.
“You've got me addicted, what can I say? It's very good coffee Amamiya, you're talented.”
“Why thank you, I'd like to think it's thanks to my secret ingredient.”
Akechi raised an eyebrow, playing along. “Which is?”
“You're a detective.” Amamiya shot him a wink. “You tell me.”
Of course. How irritating.
“What, no ideas?”
Amamiya’s deft fingers danced through the motions of pressing and pouring Akechi’s coffee, ever so careful and attentive.
“Love?” Akechi tried, the word heavy on his tongue. Amamiya hummed.
“Poison actually, but you came pretty close.”
So fucking annoying. So, so, fucking annoying. Amamiya placed a streaming mug in front of him, perfect teeth flashing white under the dim café lights.
“If you're nice, I’ll let you have the antidote when you're done with it.”
Akechi slid a hand through the mug’s handle and pressed his palm against the ceramic. The burn was a welcoming distraction from Amamiya’s undivided attention. He had a way of looking at Akechi like he already knew everything about him, even things Akechi himself was blind to. It made the detective squirm, a sensation he was not too fond of.
“When am I anything but nice to you, Amamiya?”
The boy in question reached up to twirl a lock of hair between his fingers, staring off into the otherwise empty café behind Akechi.
“You…huh, I guess I can't think of any time that you haven't been nice to me.” He turned back to Akechi, studying him carefully. “I would still like you, ya know, if you were…not nice to me, er, well,” He barked a laugh and covered his face with his hands. “Nevermind, stupid thing to say, the Detective Prince doesn't have a mean bone in his body, right Akechi?”
The fuck was that supposed to mean? Akechi pressed his hand harder into the mug’s warmth, searching for that grounding pain. Amamiya hadn't made his coffee hot enough for the burn to be truly satisfying, which only served to irritate him further.
“Do you like when people are mean to you?”
“Maybe?” Amamiya cracked his knuckles before allowing his fingers to wander back into his hair. “Not really, I think it has to do with the person, my uh, friend…”
“The one who taught you philosophy?”
“Yes, him.” Amamiya smiled softly to himself. This friend was someone the thief mentioned often, but had managed to share the least about. Akechi decided now was a better time than ever to sink his teeth in and prod.
“You seem very fond of him, strange that he’s not a part of your band of misfits.”
The look Akechi received in response was eerily amused, and he got the feeling that the other boy knew more than he was letting on. It was a solemn sort of amusement, tired and resigned. Akechi didn't need Amamiya to elaborate, he knew from that look alone where this conversation was taking them. He’d seen it many times in his profession.
“He's dead, has been for a few years now.”
“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pried.”
“No, no, it's okay.” Amamiya leaned forward on the counter, holding Akechi’s gaze. His nervousness had all but dissipated, replaced with an air of maturity Akechi would never have expected from him. “I've made my amends with it, he made me realize what it is I want in life, and I'm not giving up until I get it.”
“Which is?”
Amamiya’s eyes flickered back and forth between Akechi’s, searching, silent.
The tension was maddening, Akechi didn't have a clue what Amamiya was getting at, what Akechi was supposed to pick up on. If only he knew a little more, had enough information to get an idea of the bigger picture. The only way to achieve that was to keep prying.
So pry he would, he’d wiggle his knife underneath the chest's lid until the hinges cracked.
“Which is, Amamiya?” He repeated.
The other boy broke the spell by shaking his head and stepping back. “Nothing, nothing, don't worry about it, drink your coffee, it should be cool enough now.”
“You can tell me Amamiya, I won’t judge you.”
The thief pressed his hand into the café’s wooden counter, hard enough to leave an impression of its texture in his skin. “The same as my coffee’s secret ingredient, as cheesy as that is.”
Ah. How interesting.
Akechi picked up his coffee and took a sip.
Ah.
How…interesting.
Amamiya Ren lives.
It was the 24th of November, just a few days since Akechi put a bullet between Ren’s eyes, yet, here he was, in the flesh, standing in Akechi’s doorway. Of fucking course he was. Why wouldn’t he be?
Why wasn’t the detective surprised?
What was the procedure for this again?
Should Akechi shoot now or later?
Akechi had blamed the strange sensation he felt when running into Sae before Ren’s execution on adrenaline, but now with the boy standing in front of him, alive and well, he pieced together that that had been the metaverse gently welcoming him back into its familiar clutches. He had been so caught up in the moment that it completely went over his head as it happened. What an impressive ruse. Ren had truly outdone himself in the ‘ being an absolute pain in Akechi Goro’s ass ’ department.
The detective lifted his hands and applauded.
“Bravo Joker, have you come to rub your success in my face?”
Amamiya blinked, he was missing his usual confident bravado. Perhaps a side effect of all the beatings.
“Or perhaps you’ve come to return the favor, kill me in your place?”
The Phantom Thief’s eyes became comically wide. “No, NO! That’s not it at all! I wanted to talk.”
“To talk?”
Amamiya nodded. “Can I come in?”
“How do you even know where I live?”
Amamiya didn’t grace his question with a response, just accepted Akechi’s non-threatening demeanor as permission to walk past him into his apartment. It was not luxury living by any means, but anything was more impressive than Amamiya’s sad excuse for a bedroom, so Akechi didn’t exactly feel embarrassed. He had no decor, (aside from the figurines Amamiya had given him, which actually, much to his dismay, sat front and center atop his fireplace).
Amamiya pointed out said figurines, his stiff posture relaxing in the process. “Those are the ones I gave you right? Good spot.”
“What if I had ignored Sae, or just barely missed her on my way in, what would you have done then?”
“Died I guess.” Amamiya made himself comfortable on Akechi’s coach. It was strange to see him wrapped up in a ratty sweatshirt, donned head to toe in yellowing bruises. He looked nothing like the supernatural creature Akechi knew him to be. Joker, the indomitable leader of the Phantom Thieves, the highschool boy who brought a mafia boss to his knees. Rather he looked small. Worn out. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to shoot me on sight, for the record I’m glad you didn’t.”
Akechi remained in his spot by the door. Amamiya was an idiot for coming there if he wasn't there to kill him. He was giving Akechi the perfect opportunity to finish the job. There would be no witness, no struggle, hell Akechi was surprised to see Amamiya up and moving at all with the beatings he took.
“What did it feel like?” Amamiya inquired innocently.
Akechi brought a hand to his chin, tilting his head. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Killing me.”
He mulled the question over, grounding himself by stroking along the hard lines of his jaw bone. “Do you want my honest answer?” He fell back easily into his Detective Prince persona, the endearing and polite Goro Akechi that Amamiya was so fond of. Or at least, who Akechi believed he'd been fond of. “It hurt, I've never killed someone outside of the metaverse, since I did I-”
“Bullshit.” Amamiya cut him off. “Give me a real answer.”
Hm. Alright then.
Akechi dropped his hand from his chin. “Incredibly satisfying.”
Shockingly enough, Amamiya was not puff off by that response, in fact he smiled. “Really? And afterwards?”
“I've tried not to think about it since I did it.”
“I'm hurt.” Amamiya pretended to wipe away tears. “You haven’t thought about me at all?”
“It upsets you more that I don't think about the fact I killed you than the fact that I killed you?”
“Yeah, it does.” Amamiya leaned back on his couch, arms wrapped protectively around his waist. “Ah…here I was hoping you’d been sitting around, moping, or all wistful and mourning, pleading with God for my return.”
“I don't believe in God.”
“You don't?” Amamiya’s grin grew impossibly larger. “Even after experiencing the metaverse?”
“The existence of one otherworldly thing does not prove the existence of all otherworldly things.”
“Good point.”
Amamiya’s arms remained tight, but he seemed otherwise relaxed. Too relaxed. Akechi easily could have killed him if he wanted to.
The truth was, he didn’t want to. Not really.
He had thought about Amamiya since he did it, he’d thought about him a lot, actually. His catlike expressions, his witty comments, his infuriating corrections. By the time of Joker’s arrest Akechi had been spending up to 90% of his free time with the boy, in the days following he found himself static. He didn’t know what to do with himself without Amamiya around, the places he used to love were marred by his absence.
He’d never tell the Phantom Thief that, of course, he’d never admit to feeling any regret about what he did, especially not with the very real chance that he’ll have to do it all again.
“Is that all you wanted to ask?”
“Sit with me.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Please?” Amamiya gave him puppy dog eyes, a tactic much less effective with two black eyes, but that worked none the less. Akechi sat down in a lounge chair across from him, close enough to appease Amamiya without sacrificing his personal space. “You look like shit Akechi, have you been sleeping?”
“You look like you were beaten within an inch of your life.”
“Touché.” Amamiya shook his hair out of his face then threw his head back to stare at the ceiling. As he spoke Akechi’s eyes followed the bobbing motion of his Adam's apple, the responsible party for his unfairly sultry voice. The first time Akechi had heard Amamiya speak he had to do a double take. His voice was deep and rich, a stark contrast to his impish personality. “Think of yourself as dead. You have lived your life. Now, take what’s left and live it properly.”
“Who’s words are those?”
“You don’t know?”
Akechi rolled his eyes. “Not off the top of my head, no.”
“Who said it is not important,” Amamiya mused, almost too softly for Akechi to pick up. “What would you do, right now, if I told you you were dead?”
Akechi’s lips stretched into an incredulous smile. “What kind of hypothetical is that?”
“Humor me.”
The detective sat back, mirroring Amamiya’s posture and staring up into the stark whiteness of his ceiling. “If I was dead, I don’t know Joker, I’d be dead, I wouldn’t be able to do anything.”
"It's just an illusion here on Earth that one moment follows another one," Ren held his pointer fingers up above his head, pressing them together then slowly pulling them apart. "Like beads on a string, and that once that moment is gone it is gone forever."
“You sound insane.” Akechi said to the ceiling. “If I knew I was dead…” He repeated, then, after a thoughtful pause. “I guess the first thing I would do is kill my father.”
“Really?” Amamiya sounded disappointed. “But you were already going to do that.”
Akechi’s eyebrows furrowed. He looked back down, staring into the lines of Amamiya’s neck. “How do you know that?”
The other boy did not meet his gaze. “You told me.”
“No I didn’t.”
“You did, in the bathhouse.”
“I think I would remember sharing something that significant.”
Amamiya hummed and squeezed his arms tighter around himself. “Maybe you didn’t.”
“Okay, I didn’t, so how do you know?”
“I'm from the future.”
“I want a real answer.”
“That is my real answer.”
Clearly that line of questioning was going to get him nowhere. “Fine.” Akechi sat back and crossed his legs, folding his hands atop his knee like he’d seen done by reporters. Amamiya caught the motion in his peripheral, breaking from his staring contest with the ceiling plaster to smile fondly in the direction of Akechi’s pose. “Mr. Billy Pilgrim, is there something I can help you with today?”
Amamiya lit up like a Christmas tree, mimicking Akechi’s pseudo-professional tone. “There is, in fact, Mr. Trout.”
Akechi dropped his own act. “Trout? Really?”
“You like science fiction!”
Akechi sighed, conceding. “I suppose I do.”
“Exactly.” Ren cleared his throat, taking on an exaggerated American accent. “Mr. Trout, I’d like to help you kill your father.”
“Pilgrim wouldn't-” Akechi paused, stunned to silence once again by Ren’s bold words.
Just like he had been the day they met.
“While I agree, Hegel never actually used those terms.”
“You want to do what ?”
“Help you kill your father.” He was still doing that god awful American impression. “He’s gonna die either way, Mr. Trout.”
Either way. Either way. The fuck was he on about? Was this a trick? Was he trying to set Akechi up? No, no, Akechi knew what this was. He wanted Akechi’s power, his strength, he wanted the detective to carry him through Shido’s palace, and was so fucking confident in his sweet talking abilities that he thinks he’d be able to talk Akechi out of killing Shido’s shadow when it came down to it.
…
Shido thinks Joker is dead, there was no rush to kill Amamiya as long as that rang true. It didn’t escape Akechi’s mind that his father’s shadow would certainly be easier to take down with Ren’s help either. If the thief went back on his word, Akechi could just wait to shoot him until then.
“He's considering it!”
Akechi ran his hands down his face, stretching the skin of his cheeks. This was not a good idea, not at all. Ren didn't even know who he was signing up to kill. Unless the fucking psychic had already figured it out like he always seemed to when it came to Akechi's secrets.
”Let me guess, you already somehow magically know Shido’s my father?”
Amamiya froze, then huffed indignantly. “I already told you-”
“You're from the future, yes, why do I even bother.” Akechi’s eyes fell on Amamiya’s arms. “Break a few ribs?”
“Technically, I’m not the one who broke them.”
“I hope you haven’t been taking said broken rib into the metaverse, I don’t need a-”
“YES!” Ren jumped up from the couch, wincing violently at the motion but the pain did nothing to deter his glee. “It’ll take some time to convince the others to let you back on the team, but I think you’re making a really good decision.”
“The others?” Akechi questioned. Surely he’d heard mistaken.
“Yeah, the other Phantom Thieves."
Ah. There was the idiotic Joker he knew.
“We’re not doing this with the Thieves, just you and me or the deals off.”
“But-”
“That’s final.” Akechi stood up as well, pointedly unaffected by Ren’s guilty dog slouch. “Your little cult would never agree to killing Shido, let alone working with someone who attempted to kill you. We do it alone, or I do it alone, and I kill all eight of you for trying to get in my way.”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
Akechi’s voice turned cold. “I would.”
“Wouldn’t.”
“Would.”
“Wouldn’t.”
“Would- Fuck, stop, stop it!” Akechi waved his hands in front of his face, becoming increasingly irritated. “Get out of my house.”
“Are we doing it?”
“Out. Ren.”
“Ren?”
Shit. “Amamiya.”
“You called me Ren!”
“Get. The. Fuck. Out.” Akechi grabbed Amamiya by the shoulders and steered him to the door. The boy looked back at him over his shoulder, grinning from ear to ear, the fucking idiot.
“I’ll text you!”
“Don’t, Shido has my phone bugged.”
“Seriously? Get a trap phone!”
“Out!”
“I’ll come by again tomorrow.”
“DON’T!”
Amamiya never listens.
“You should call me Ren more often.” Against Akechi’s wishes, Amamiya had shown up the next day, just like he said he would. Akechi tried slamming the door in his face, but the boy was quick, catching the door before it could close and forcing his way in with the help of those absurd muscles he had.
That was how Akechi found himself sitting down across from the Phantom Thief, watching as he tinkered with his lockpicks, materials strewn out across Akechi’s kitchen table.
“You’re making a mess.” Akechi snapped. They had a good two weeks before election day, plenty of time to prepare and spend time away from one another. Akechi pushed enough of the mess out of his way to set down his bowl of ramen.
Amamiya looked up from his work to grin, giddy at seeing Akechi join him.
“I’m making some for you too.”
“Why would I need my own when we’re going together?”
“We might get split up! And while we’re trying to find each other again you might run into some chests, hence each of us having our own lockpicks.”
Whatever. Akechi shoved ramen into his mouth and watched with only the slightest bit of amusement as Amamiya color coded their respective lockpicks.
“I want to start infiltrating as soon as possible, we need to stop Shido before he wins the election.”
It did not escape Akechi’s attention that Amamiya used the word ‘stop’ instead of kill.
“I’ve been into his palace before and have direct access to where his shadow resides, taking him down won’t take more than a day.”
Amamiya’s crafting came to a halt. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly.” Akechi smirked, taking another bite of cheap dinner. “And we should wait until after the election, I want him to think he’s won before I take it all away from him.”
“Killing the prime minister would send Japan into a panic.”
“Majority of Japan has already accepted he’s going to win anyways, killing him now or killing him later doesn’t matter, they’re going to panic either way.”
Amamiya looked dejected. He began collecting his materials and putting them back into his backpack with a frown.
“That anxious to get blood on your hands?”
“No, it’s not that.” He paused his cleaning and lifted a hand to fidget with his glasses. “I just expected this to be a lot bigger of a mission, it feels wrong to just walk into the chamber without exploring the whole palace.”
“The chamber?” Akechi put down his chopsticks. “How do you know it’s a debate chamber?” Akechi tried to remember the last time he was in Shido’s palace, surely if Amamiya had been there one of the shadows would have told him. He’d been checking the place frequently before he temporarily joined the Phantom Thieves.
“Did you enter his palace during the same time I was helping you with Sae’s?”
Amamiya looked to his left, letting out an awkward laugh. “Maybe?”
God fucking damnnit. Just how much had this idiot gotten up to without him knowing? Akechi had been playing checkers while this guy was playing fucking chess.
“I shouldn’t even be surprised, how far have you and those idiots gotten?”
“Not very, we uh, don’t have any of the letters yet.”
“Good. Keep it that way, if I catch any of you in there I’m killing on sight.”
“Don’t say that, it’s not funny.”
“I’m not joking.”
Amamiya sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “They’re going to get suspicious if I just suddenly drop the mission, Shido is like, the big bad we’ve been working up towards.”
“I don’t care, fix the problem.”
His unwanted house guest lowered his head and fluttered his eyelashes at him.
“I mean it, Amamiya.”
“Ren.” Amamiya corrected.
“If I call you Ren will you call your little sugar brigade off?”
Amamiya hummed. “Maybe.”
“Ren.” Akechi began. “If I see you, or any of your little idiots in my father’s palace I will kill them on sight, so please refrain from visiting.”
The idiot had the audacity to smile. “Heard loud and clear, Goro.”
“Don’t fucking call me that.”
“Akechi.”
The detective rolled his eyes and took another bite of his noodles.
“Thank you.”
Apparently being unable to text one another was a valid enough excuse for Ren to show up at Akechi’s door whenever he liked. He was begrudgingly allowed in on his third visit in return for bringing the detective a thermos of coffee from Leblanc. On his fourth visit he brought curry, and by his sixth Akechi had become accustomed to leaving his door unlocked.
Akechi continued on with his life as normal. He clocked in at the station, attended class, reported to Shido, all while coming home to the supposedly dead leader of the Phantom thieves.
A man he had been assigned to kill.
It was a small solace that Shido had no interest in visiting Akechi at home whatsoever. His father had never cared about Akechi’s life outside of serving him and that wasn't going to change anytime soon. It occurred to the detective that ironically his apartment was actually the safest place for Ren to be.
Having him around so often wasn’t all bad, the free food was a nice change of pace and Ren made for a good conversational partner, infuriating moral highgrounds aside.
“I used to believe in fate.” Ren told him one day while they were watching The Last Airbender together. “Espiecally when I awakened to my persona, I thought, this is it, this is what I was made to do.”
“What changed?”
Ren pulled his legs up on the couch and wrapped his arms around them, looking at Akechi over his knees. “If I know what mine or someone else’s fate is and I take action to change said fate, therefore preventing the fated outcome from happening, does not that disprove fate?”
It made perfect sense that Ren was one of those people obsessed with changing fate, not just fixing the bad things in the world but preventing them. It was a useless mental exercise to argue over free will or destiny. Akechi didn’t care if he was playing into fate’s hands or not, as long as he got what he wanted in the end he would be satisfied.
“If I was going to argue in favor of determinism I’d tell you that the ‘fated outcome’ you learned about was never going to happen, but you learning about it and ‘changing’ it was.”
“And if you were going to argue for free will?”
“If I was going to argue for free will I’d tell you to not take any predicted fate seriously because it’s probably bullshit.”
“What if I know for a fact that it’s going to happen?”
“I forgot.” Akechi reached forward and picked up the remote to pause their show, it’s not like they were actually watching it anyways. “You’re from the future.”
He turned to Ren, who looked oddly straightfaced and distant. Normally he’d be amused by Akechi making a call-back to one of their running jokes.
“Ren?”
The boy snapped out of it. “Yes, yes, yeah, I’m from the future, so I know your- and my, everyone’s fates, would me doing things differently now disprove determinism?”
“We won’t know until we’re dead.”
“What do you mean?”
“You may think you’re changing fate when you’re really just delaying it.”
“What?” Ren frowned, he was taking this conversation so seriously. “I haven’t considered that, I thought you believed in free will?”
“I’ll believe in free will when I actually have it, which won’t be until Shido is dead.”
“Sure.” Ren glanced over at the TV, clearly not satisfied by their talk. “Why’d you pause the show?”
“You’re not paying attention to it.”
“I like the background noise.”
Akechi rolled his eyes and turned it back on.
Luckily the annoying talking cat never joined Ren on his excursions to Akechi’s place. Akechi never mentioned it, fearing that broaching the topic would suggest to Ren that Morgana was a welcome addition to their hangouts when he was in fact, not. With each visit Ren’s health was visibly improving. His bruises faded into the usual warm tan of Ren’s skin and soon enough the thief could move his torso without making the pinched face of someone who just ate a very sour lemon. By the time they entered Shido’s palace together Akechi had no doubt that the other boy would be at the peak of his physical capabilities. What Akechi had been working towards the last three years inched closer with each passing day. He could not wait. Soon, very soon, Shido would be groveling at his feet, begging for forgiveness, acknowledging Akechi for everything he had done. God, it was going to be amazing. The cold metal of his gun beneath his fingers, the hitch in Shido’s breath when he pressed it to his head. Akechi had imagined the scenario so many times. Would Shido cry? Grit his teeth? Would he deny all that he had done or would he confess in the hopes of a lighter sentence?
All was going well in Akechi’s life. Sure, every time he went into work he had to endure Sae’s penetrative gaze, full of both pity and contempt. Makoto pretended not to know him, doing a poor job of avoiding his attention during her frequent sister visits.
Shido asked a lot of him, he wanted any and all possible threats disposed of before he took office. Akechi made his promises, but procrastinated on carrying said promises out. Ren would be proud, he was saving lives.
Actually, did saving them from himself count?
He wasn’t sure.
Whatever. It’s not like he even really cared.
Akechi stood in the elevator on his way to Shido’s office, making a futile attempt at keeping his thoughts from straying back to Ren. The day prior Ren had been later than usual and absolutely exhausted. He didn’t even have the energy to pester Akechi about his personal life, which was Ren’s absolute favorite thing to do, he’d have a bright future as a therapist.
Instead he just grunted something unintelligible and fell face first onto Akechi’s couch, and subsequently the detective’s lap.
“Jesus Ren, you’re fucking heavy.”
“Mmm, I know.”
“You know?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Christ.”
He shouldn’t have, but Akechi let him stay there. He hadn’t been lying when he said the boy was heavy but it wasn’t excessive. In fact, it was kind of nice having Ren on his lap. He could feel the thief’s steady heartbeat against his thighs, and eventually a firm arm wrapped around the back of Akechi’s torso, allowing Ren to half-hug the detective as he fell asleep. Akechi couldn’t remember the last time someone held him like that, if ever.
If, after the other boy was completely passed out, Akechi ran his hands through his hair to see if it was as soft as it looked, well, that was his business.
(For the record Ren’s hair was as soft as it looked.)
The elevator door pinged and slid open to reveal Shido already sat up and expectant at his desk. Akechi had always considered the office layout to be disgustingly pretentious. He buried his deep disdain for his father as deep as he could and stepped out, his dress shoes clicking as they hit Versailles parquet.
“Who was it that told me cutting off the head would be enough?” Shido began. “Do remind me.”
The fuck was he on about? “I’m sorry sir, you’ll have to be more specific.”
“The Phantom Thieves you imbecile, who was it that told me cutting off the snake's head would be enough to stop them?”
Oh. Akechi vaguely remembered saying something along those lines. “Me, sir.”
Shido snapped his fingers. “Yes, yes, it was you wasn’t it?” He snarled condescendingly. “Japan’s most intelligent, do you stand by that statement?”
If Akechi had learned anything from working for Shido, it’s that there was always a right and wrong answer to his questions. His best course of action was to divert the conversation.
“Did something happen, sir?”
“Did something happen? DID SOMETHING HAPPEN?” Shido stood up from his chair, pressing his hands down on his desk to brace himself. “Two of my biggest sources of funding have been pulled out on account of moral obligation! I had a man whimpering on the phone about how terrible he felt about being involved with me, crying over everything he’s done like some pathetic child, does that sound familiar to you? Does that remind you of anything?”
What? Akechi looked down at his shoes, mulling over what Shido had told him. It was impossible, all of Shido’s important investors’ shadows were on his ship, there was no way their hearts could have been changed without-
THAT FUCKING BACKSTABBING PRICK.
“The rest of the Phantom Thieves must be working on their own, or maybe they found a new leader, I don’t know, either way, they’re going after my mine, they’re going to jeopardize the election.” Shido took a deep breath and sat back down, schooling his scowl into something more professional. “Dispose of them, all of them, I don’t care how, just don’t let it be traced back to me, I don’t care if they’re fucking children, I want them gone, understood?”
Akechi couldn’t find the words to respond. He gave the man a silent nod before turning around and walking back into the elevator. He barely registered himself pressing the lobby floor’s button. One second he was watching the elevator lights count down, the next he was standing on the foredeck of Shido’s luxury cruise ship.
Time to make good on his promise.