Chapter Text
A strange shadow is creeping on you,
Then you shall rise—fearless.
A strong pulse burns through your body,
And finally, you can reach out—victorious.
Akira clicked his tongue and reached over to grab the TV remote and turn it off. He wasn’t exactly in the mood.
It was a slow summer day in Inaba, as it always was. Not only the town was stuck in the middle of nowhere, but it was also probably the least interesting city in Yamanashi. You couldn’t see Mount Fuji, there were no onsens, no famous temples either—there was no reason anyone would ever visit the place. It was a small city in the countryside for people who weren’t looking for an exciting life.
Summer vacation had just started and he felt sluggish. Most of his childhood friends fell out of touch with him when he was expelled, and his sudden comeback one year later only made them more wary of him. The few friends he had made—who clearly didn’t care about his situation or were way too curious to avoid him—were planning to go to the beach or were busy with part-time jobs. Akira still had a little bit of money from his year spent in Tokyo, but he couldn’t really spend it when he’d definitely need it after graduation. And his mom preferred he didn’t get out of Inaba during summer - to make sure he didn’t get in trouble again.
He glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed when he saw that it wasn’t even past 4. His mom wouldn’t be home before 6. He really had nothing to do but laze around their little wooden terrace with his fly swatter, watching the wind chime and the spiderwebs hidden underneath the roof while silently suffering from the heat. Morgana wasn’t even there either, he had better things to do than spending his days in the heat when he could find a nice cool bush to nap in—or most likely a grandma who thought he was a stray and would let him in her air-conditioned house.
Thankfully, his phone buzzed, right next to his head. He smiled when he saw that Ryuji was once again using the group chat to rant, this time about the gym’s broken AC. He almost wanted to answer and tell him he shared the sentiment—about the heat and his own lack of AC—but Sumire chimed in and told him he could come to her gym if he wanted. He’d feel bad cutting off such a genuine display of attention, so he turned off his screen and let his head thump back on the floor.
Those moments of boredom were some of the worst. Those were when he truly felt like he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. He knew that Tokyo’s heat waves were worse than Inaba’s, that Leblanc’s attic was an actual oven at some points of the day and sitting behind the counter with an apron making coffee wouldn’t make it easier either—but it didn’t matter. He still missed it dearly. He missed them all, he missed the freedom of having a day off and having an entire city full of things to do and discover. He missed being someone who meant something to people.
His mom, Yuriko, cared in her own way. He knew that she didn’t want to send him away when he was put on probation - it was his dad who had taken that decision. And now, his dad wasn’t here, something about them “taking a break” that had evolved into his father’s stuff disappearing from the house and from both of their lives. Akira had no idea if she was actually waiting for his return or if she knew it would never happen—they didn’t really talk about those things. But he did feel guilty when he thought about fucking off somewhere and truly leaving her alone before he’d even finished high school.
Akira would go back to Tokyo after graduation. But in the meantime, he had to be a good little student, get good grades, earn money and his mom’s trust before he could finally move out for good. And sure, one year seemed longer when you weren’t occupied running inside criminals' brains and then running for your life, away from people who want you dead—but hey, he had no rights to complain about it. He was alive. Akira wasn’t even sure he'd live past 18 when policemen were injecting weird stuff in his veins and trying to break his bones.
He definitely knew someone who hadn’t been so lucky.
He must have fallen asleep at some point because he suddenly heard the door close and then footsteps in the entrance. He jumped on his feet, quickly going to the kitchen to start cooking and at least pretend he was in the middle of it. Too bad for him, his mom saw him rush inside and she shook her head in silent disappointment before going for the fridge and taking a beer. Then, she sighed, “You forgot.”
“I fell asleep,” he answered, at least trying to sound apologetic.
“Well, it’s fine. I’m not very hungry.” Yuriko opened her can, took a few sips, and then she started to awkwardly look around, as if she had no idea what to say. “I’ll draw us a bath.”
“Uh, no thanks. It’s too hot today.”
“...If you say so.” Then she left the room and went to the bathroom.
He washed the rice and put it in the rice cooker, then took a peek at the fridge and decided he’d get away with grilling the fish and call it a meal. Afterwards, he cut the cabbage and threw some Worcestershire sauce on it, with a dollop of mayonnaise on his mother’s. She looked like she had a long day, so he might as well make something that would cheer her up a little.
He turned the TV on while the fish was cooking—it would soon be time for Yuriko’s favorite drama, and he liked watching the news that aired beforehand. He finished setting up the table when she got out of the bath, letting out a big sigh of contentment while padding to the kitchen to throw away her can and then back to the living room with their fish to sit with him in front of the TV. She thanked him for the meal with a forced but sincere smile and dug in.
They didn’t really talk about anything during dinner, they mostly made conversation about what was told on TV until her drama started, and she got so focused she didn’t hear anything else, not even her phone going off. It was usually around that time that Akira bid her goodnight, going to take a shower and to find solace in his room and his cooling fan, even if it wasn’t even 8pm yet.
He wasn’t sleepy after napping all afternoon, so once he was done with his shower, he tried to find something to do while waiting for Morgana to come back. His mom wasn’t a big fan of animals, but as long as he didn’t break anything in the house and he handled food and vet expenses, she was fine with his existence. That meant Morgana spent most of his time in Akira’s room or chilling outside, especially since he’d found out Tatsumi Textile’s owner always left some tuna on a plate outside her house for the strays. Also, him spending less time in the living room was the best solution as to not make Yuriko think her son had truly gone crazy, talking to his cat like he could understand him.
Akira was saved from boredom by a sudden call from Yusuke who in the middle of a crisis - clearly, since he didn’t even text beforehand to ask if Akira was available. That’s how he spent the next hour face-timing the artist, desperate because he had no blue paint anymore, and it was too late to go ask for one – and sure he had the money for it but not the train fare. Basically, he was asking Akira to give him a lecture on how to pick locks, so he could borrow a tube in the school’s storage—and no, this wasn’t theft, this was a well needed sacrifice for his next masterpiece.
Thankfully, Akira got Yusuke to forget about this plan when he realized he’d also need money to buy the materials he needed to make a good lock-pick, and also that losing his scholarship for stealing paint wasn’t the best idea. Then, he found out he could actually make paint on his own and he was gone, as fast as he arrived. He still sent him a text about half an hour later, to thank him for his time and then to ask how he was doing. Akira didn’t lie when he answered that he missed him a lot, and Yusuke told him they’d meet again soon enough, and to take care of himself.
Morgana padded back inside the room as Akira turned off the lights, sitting on the windowsill to enjoy the night breeze. He told him about his day and even started rambling about the owner of the Amagi Inn, who he clearly found very cute although he was still not ready to admit it, something about how he’d never betray his Lady Ann. Akira fell asleep thinking about those words—we’ll meet again soon enough.
He knew he’d go back to Tokyo one day, that all the Thieves were the kind of friends you had for life. But there was another promised meeting he was much more unsure about, one he desperately wanted to believe in—and on days like these, spent being lazy and waiting for time to pass, he felt anxious. Like he was wasting time. Like it would be too late before he even realized it.
Soon enough, he was back in school. Thank god he was a third year student, so he didn’t have to work on the cultural festival if he didn’t want to—and clearly he’d gotten his fair share of emotions last time, thank you. That’s probably why the rumor took so long to reach his ears, even though literally all the school was talking about it : The Detective Prince was in Inaba.
He hated the way his heart skipped when he heard that. He stopped in his tracks before leaving the classroom and stared at the person who'd just said that, until they noticed him and scowled at him to make him look away. Ryota—a transfer student who reminded him way too much of Mishima minus all the fanboying—poked at his arm when he realized Akira wasn’t listening to him anymore. “Hey, you alright?”
He quickly turned away from the gossiping girls and nodded to his friend, his hand clenched on his bento box and his heart tearing a hole through his chest. It couldn’t be, right? First of all, why would he be here, in Inaba? To see Akira? Please. And also, the first Detective Prince was from the area. That was probably just her. He was delusional, and lonely, and still hurting over a loss he’d had time to mourn, but one he’d probably never get over. It was dumb.
… But what if?
The bell rang at the end of the day and Akira stayed around, loitering around the shoe lockers with his ears wide open, but he didn’t find much. He could hear some girls talking about “how cool” some guy was, but it could be their crush or even a drama actor. He took his time in the shopping district, the place where housewives loved gossiping the most, but he got nothing. Even Junes’ food plaza was strangely silent that day. He ended up going home that night with a heavy heart. He didn’t tell Morgana about it, he felt too shitty for that.
He got his answer the next morning. It was lightly raining, and he was still shaking the water drops out of his umbrella when he saw a little crowd in the corridor next to the gym. Heart thrumming, he got closer to the commotion, trying to catch sight of who was at the center of the attention. Then his heart dropped when he saw dark locks and ungloved hands. Shirogane Naoto was in the middle of an intense conversation with a teacher, and the same girls as yesterday were standing there to watch, probably waiting for the detective to be done to try and chat with her.
That was it. He should’ve known.
Akira spent the entire day with his head buried in his arms, hidden from the world that expected him to learn and be a nice good old student. When a teacher asked him to wake up he even decided to be an ass and replied that he couldn’t because of his broken heart. Too bad his joke wasn’t appreciated – Akira was sent to the board to fill in English sentences, which reminded him how much he missed Ann and her well thought but badly hidden whispers.
That night, he had a nightmare about policemen in an interrogation room, and wasn’t able to go back to sleep.
Sometimes, he wondered what the others were thinking, when they saw Akira and Akechi together. Did they think Akira was indulging him, that his weird obsession with their so-called rivalry was too hard to dismiss and Akira was too nice to tell him off? Did they think it was an act, and they didn’t really hang out when no one was around? Did they understand anything about that weird bond of theirs, and what did they imagine when they saw them be, in their little bubble, clearly sharing something that they couldn’t explain either?
The other Thieves were probably too wary to even touch upon that subject with him, considering he never mentioned the topic himself. When Akechi disappeared after the third of February, Akira was already back in juvie. And sure, Akechi got mentioned once or twice again after that, but those instances were often followed by silence on Akira’s part. So yeah. That was on him. He was at loss for words, just as as they were. Maybe he was still in complete denial.
He did feel somewhat depressed when the Cultural Festival started and he welcomed it like you’d welcome a dentist appointment. He really wanted to skip it, but Morgana out of all people seemed very excited about the whole event and decided he wouldn’t get off his back until Akira decided to be mature and go have fun with his friends. Said friends were overjoyed to see he had brought his cute kitty with him, then spent the entire day feeding Morgana any piece of meat they found. Akira could hear the cunning little bastard purring in contentment in his bag, and that’s why he decided to turn down the next gifts because ‘Mona already had a hard time going through the kitty door’. After that, Morgana wanted to murder him for calling him fat, but revenge felt good.
The sun started setting, and while most people were cleaning the school, Akira’s friends decided to help the school committee with the bonfire. The laziest students were already sitting on the grass and watching the flicker of the flames, some of them whistling at him when he took a big log out of a younger student’s arms to carry it next to the fire. He was actually sweating because the thing was goddamn heavy, but he kept his poker face the entire time, just to show off a little. It felt good, once in a while. Hikari, the committee's chief, thanked him when they were finally done. Then they stood in front of the fire to gaze at it, their arms crossed and nothing much to talk about. He knew Ryota was probably overjoyed—he was absolutely sure she had a crush on Akira — and now that he thought about it, that was probably why he’d suddenly disappeared.
Akira was about to say something, anything to get away from this tense and awkward moment, when Hikari started talking : “Hey, Kurusu. Do you… believe in magic?”
He blinked, not expecting that at all. She caught his bewildered look and chuckled nervously. “Sorry, it’s just… You know how there’s always some kind of fake rumor during school festivals? It’s usually a silly thing, some kind of romantic legend.”
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “You guys had to make one up this year?” She nodded. “I didn’t get to hear it.”
The fire still roaring right in front of them made it impossible for him to see if she was blushing, but she definitely looked a lot more cheerful when she finally found the opportunity to tell her story : “Well, our story is not that interesting. Basically, if you spend some time in front of the bonfire with someone, and then later that night you see them appear on your phone, you’re soulmates.”
Akira couldn’t help but scoff. “On your phone? That’s pretty creepy.”
“That’s where it gets interesting!” she replied, now looking at him right in the eyes. “Because we based that fake legend on another one that has been going on for a while in Inaba. You’ve ever heard of the Midnight Channel?”
The name didn’t ring any bell for him. She kept going : “I heard that one from my aunt, from when she was a student here. A lot of people said that if you looked at your TV screen at midnight on a rainy night, your soulmate would appear. That’s why we thought we could apply that to smartphones, you know, to give it a modern touch.”
Akira still thought that was very far-fetched, but he couldn’t hide his curiosity about the older rumor. “So wait, did people pretend they saw other people appearing on TV? Like, when it was off?”
She nodded, looking very solemn. “I heard some people saw dead people in there too. It’s really creepy but super fascinating. Like, can you imagine that? You suddenly see someone’s face?” She chuckled as she faked a shiver. “That would be crazy.”
That stayed with him, for some reason. Even when the festival came to an end and Ryota nagged him about missed opportunities and what-not, he was still thinking about that Midnight Channel story. He recounted it to Morgana as they were walking home, and his friend was able to confirm his weird feeling.
“Yup. That definitely sounds like the Metaverse.”
“You think so too? Like, did people’s Shadows would appear on TV, here, in Inaba? There was a big murder case in the city about a decade ago too, that means the culprit’s face would’ve been on TV.”
“Shadows aren’t necessarily bad people,” Morgana reminded him. “Remember what happened with Futaba—it’s just the projection of someone’s distorted heart. So it could be anyone, even someone who never did anything wrong.”
Akira still had a hard time wrapping his head around it. But he remembered his reflection when he left Tokyo, and he truly believed that even when Gods weren’t trying to meddle with it, there was no way the world of Palaces and Shadows was gone after what happened. That didn’t mean he wanted to get back to business, first of all because it wouldn’t feel right to do so without the others, but also because he truly didn’t have any reason to. His rebellious spirit wasn’t gone, he wasn’t done fighting for what he thought was right, but now just wasn’t the time. It didn’t feel right. He didn’t feel right.
But if the Metaverse or anything of the sort still existed, he definitely wanted to know about it.
Thank god, the next day was a Sunday which meant he was able to investigate a little bit. His mom was planning to shop for the entire day and was very surprised when he decided to join her, but she didn’t complain. When she started chatting with some friends on the way, he took that opportunity to ask questions to the owners of the stores, but didn’t learn much. Some of them didn’t even know what he was talking about and the younger ones who did know had no more information than Hikari—the Midnight Channel was an urban legend, and it was very popular that one year when those horrible murders took place. They had never tried it themselves, they were too old at the time to pay attention to those stories.
He was getting pretty desperate, because it wasn’t like a lot of people who were his age ten years ago were still living in town. Most of them were either still in college or had moved out to a bigger city, had gotten married, anything to get them out of Inaba. Still, he realized that at the time, his mom wasn’t even thirty, so she might know something about it.
“Oh, sure,” she said when he finally caved in and asked her, right in the middle of Junes’ fish aisle. “It was pretty popular when I was young.”
That surprised him, and he repeated, just to be sure : “Really? When you were a student, too?”
She shrugged, “Yes, it was a pretty nice song. But I didn’t think young folks like you were interested in that type of music.”
Akira blinked, and then sighed. He should’ve known : “Not Moonlight Shadow, mom. Midnight Channel.”
“Oh.” She frowned a little bit. “Never heard of it then.”
He rolled his eyes and shook off his frustration by stomping away from her and towards another aisle. She quickly went after him, surprised to see her son get so upset over her mistake : “What’s gotten into you, Akira?”
“It’s nothing,” he muttered.
“And what even is that question?” she kept going, visibly also annoyed by his attitude. “You kids are always on your phone, why don’t you just ask the internet?”
He shook his head and answered louder than he meant to : “Mom, if I could google the Midnight Channel, I would’ve fucking done it!”
That’s when the busy store decided to turn silent, at least for a few seconds before an employee a few meters away from them tripped on something and allowed his trolley to run into the cereal aisle. Akira didn’t have time to worry about the poor guy, however, because the look his mom gave him was one of silent fury. Disappointment was all over her face, her brows so scrunched up her forehead probably hurt. Her look told him she was keeping herself in check as to not make a scene. He muttered an apology under his breath, shame burning his neck, and when Yuriko started walking again at a brisk pace he followed her, keeping his head low.
They didn’t talk for the rest of the trip, going home in cold silence. He really wanted to run upstairs and wait for the terrible day to be over, when he saw Yuriko walk towards the cabinet with all the cleaning supplies. He tightened his jaw while he finished putting all their groceries away. When his mom was upset, she cleaned the entire house. That meant he had two options—leave her be and not bother her, or help her without getting in her way. Considering what just happened, it didn’t take long for him to walk to the cabinet too, pull on his cleaning gloves, and get to work.
They worked in silence, but the air slowly got easier to breathe. Cleaning was teamwork, after all, and through little gestures and cues, they got along pretty well when it came to this simple exercise. It was silly, but some of Akira’s best memories with his mom were of helping her around the house. It acted as some kind of ceasefire, while it helped them relax and let out all their pent-up emotions. Another family would’ve done that through a long and exhausting discussion, but that wasn’t really how things worked in the Kurusu house. So here they were, scrubbing their little house until the sun was setting, ending the day in front of the TV together, as if nothing happened at all.
He couldn’t help but think today had still been a big failure, once again. He learned nothing about the Midnight Channel, didn't know if it even warranted him actually looking into it—and he also managed to have a stupid fight with his mom. But at least the house was as clean as ever, his body ached like it did after a good workout, and he enjoyed a nice home-cooked meal with her.
Akira was barely paying attention to the news, head almost dropping with exhaustion when he heard her little surprised gasp, her eyes stuck on the TV. His curiosity got the best of him. He almost dropped his bowl of rice when he saw the large picture as well as the text :
WHERE IS AKECHI GORO?
His body turned completely unresponsive, unable to blink as he saw the familiar face on the screen. The disgustingly pleasant smile. The empty stare. And those words, reiterating a question that had been plaguing his mind for months already.
He stared at that picture, most likely taken during one of Akechi's TV show appearances, and it made him sick. That person on TV wasn’t Akechi Goro. That softly spoken, prim and proper looking boy wasn’t real. He wasn’t the one he’d come to know and dearly miss, with his downright unpleasant way of phrasing everything and his raw honesty. He wasn’t the one he wanted to save so badly only to be forced to let go, too many times.
The hosts weren’t talking about his actual disappearance, however. They thought he was taking a break from the media, and they probably hoped that this little segment would make a splash. It had been almost one year since his last TV appearance, indeed. It made sense they would talk about him, he used to be so popular.
Akira cleared his throat and forced himself to swallow another bite of rice just to keep his composure. His mom predictably didn’t notice anything when he told her he was going to bed early and would keep the leftovers for the next day’s lunchbox. He quickly locked himself in his room, only to find Morgana sitting near his pillow with his tail curled around him.
“Are you okay?” he asked tentatively.
That actually made Akira laugh out loud. He shook his head, brushing his hair from his forehead and then pushing his glasses upwards to rub at his eyelids. After a few seconds, he finally sighed : “Not really, no. Not today.”
He didn't even notice when the trees turned red. Which was a shame, because autumn weirdly fitted Inaba. When the valley turned blood-red and the sky was still dyed a deep blue, temperatures dropped with no rain in sight. It truly was one of the best parts of the year, and he managed to completely miss it, too overwhelmed by his sudden depressive episode.
A group call from the Thieves helped significantly. He guessed that Morgana was the one behind it—he had managed to type a message to Futaba using Akira’s laptop, because a certain someone could afford to spend a day doing that stuff. Even Makoto and Haru found some time out of their schedule to show their faces and say hi. And even if seeing all of them huddled together in Leblanc’s booth hurt his heart, Sojiro telling him to take care of his mom and have fun at school made Akira realize how stupid he was being. The year would soon be over and people were waiting for him. Everything would be alright in the end. He had no reason to be depressed. It was nothing compared to juvie.
That was probably why, in the last week of October, he was in surprisingly high spirits. He’d gotten closer to Hikari who was an interesting girl, although her interest in occult stuff always surprised him. Ryota spent a lot of his time between his part-time job and his night classes, but they got to hang out more, mostly to talk about their future and how different life would be when they would leave for college. Life went on, and even if it always hurt to hear people talk about the Detective Prince in-between classes—he had to move on.
It was raining on the night when he finally decided to talk about his plans for next year to his mother. At first, she didn’t say much, she expected him to just show her his orientation sheet to have her written approval. But then, he mentioned the more sensitive subject, which made her actually look away from the TV.
“Waseda? Are you kidding? We don’t have that kind of money.” He took a deep breath, ready to plead his case, but she didn’t even let him answer. “And why would you even go there? Shizudai’s not good enough for you? All our family went there, what's the point?”
He decided to place his chopsticks back on the table, because clearly, this conversation was going to take a while. “Waseda, Keio, I don’t care. I’ll go to a public university too if necessary—the point is that I want to go back to Tokyo. That’s it.”
She laughed. “Tokyo, Tokyo, what’s so great about that city anyway? I never had to live there to have a great life. You’re just young and easily impressed.” She paused, and then frowned. “Don’t tell me it’s drugs?”
His eyes widened, definitely not expecting the conversation to take this turn. “Huh? What? Where did that even come from?”
“Why else do you want to go back there so badly, then?”
“Because all my best friends live there!” he finally exploded, almost smacking the table in anger.
The look she gave him was nothing short of contempt. “This is about your future, Akira. And you would throw it away willingly, get debts that will last you your whole life, all of this because you miss your friends? You'll make new ones, don't be silly.”
“I have enough money to pay the first year on my own—”
“University is four years. Also, where would you even live? And how about food?”
He knew he was losing this fight when he stammered : “I-I’m sure Sojiro will say yes if I ask—”
“Oh, so you’re planning to rely on someone else again?” She let out a dry laugh. “You won’t be so lucky all the time.”
Silence fell onto them, his burning irritation slowly turning into cold, freezing anger. “Lucky?” he repeated, truly bewildered. “I managed just fine for a year without your help, after you threw me out. But it wasn’t luck. It was me learning to care for myself and finding people who cared in return. Because I fought for it. Not because it was given to me. You left me with nothing.”
Yuriko looked stricken, like he just slapped her or something. She opened her mouth, then hesitated, until she lowered her voice in a menacing tone : “Don’t you dare make this about me. Your dad was—”
“He wanted me out, and you didn’t even try to convince him.”
“You say that like it’s easy—”
“I was innocent, and you didn’t even believe me,” he furiously answered. “I’m your son, and you didn’t even try to listen to me. You let it all happen. And that’s exactly why I’m going back to Tokyo. You don’t get to tell me how to live my life. Not anymore.”
He didn’t want to hear anything she had to say after that, so he left his dinner behind to climb upstairs and lock himself in his room. He furiously kicked his bag away and sat, still fuming, on his bed, before getting up again to pick up his phone and find who was available in the group chat. Thank god, Ann was on her phone, currently at Makoto’s aikido meetup with Haru. She even sent him videos of their friend kicking ass, and through pure catharsis, his need to break something faded away.
He spent the entire evening with them, Makoto joining her friends after her last spar. They went to spend some time together in a little diner near Yoyogi, and they even gave him a little view of their table, Ann’s phone sitting upright near the fourth seat to let him be part of the conversation.
When he asked Ann how things were in Shujin, she became overexcited and shared the most surprising news ever with him—Mishima had found himself a girlfriend, and she was real. It wasn’t even an internet relationship but a girl in the flesh, a first year, who was actually pretty cute according to Ann. She still didn’t know why she would be interested in a guy like him, but to each their own.
“By the way, you must be pretty popular in your school, right? Anything interesting to tell us?”
This made him snort, awkwardly scratching his neck and looking away, desperate to change the subject. “As if. I’m a delinquent, no matter where I go.”
“You should start combing your hair,” Makoto said with a pointed look. “That could help. You always look like you just woke up.”
“Aww, but some girls like that too!” Haru intervened with a sweet smile. “No, what he needs to fix is definitely his attitude, don’t you think?” Ouch. Less sweet.
“It’s true that he would look easier to approach if he stopped getting lost in his own little world all the time.”
“And his posture is bad.”
He cleared his throat loudly. “Hey, I’m still here.”
“I totally agree about the hair thing! Lady Ann, it’s so nice to see you!”
“Nobody asked you,” he groaned while Morgana, who had just appeared out of nowhere, started climbing over his shoulder.
“Hi Mona!” the girls all said together, clearly not caring about his opinion on the matter.
The next half hour was spent between the girls eating what they’d ordered and Morgana talking about his little adventures in Inaba. The cat surely felt just right in this city, where he had a lot more places to explore without being blocked by cars and where he wasn't constantly at risk of being caught by the neighborhood association and losing his balls.
It was getting late when he finally bid goodbye to the girls, putting his phone to charge and going to take a shower. When he returned, Morgana was already asleep, curled up on his little cushion. Akira then realized he was starving. Considering the hour and the silence in the house, his mom was probably already sleeping, so he took that opportunity to go downstairs and eat his dinner's leftovers.
Akira sat in silence in the kitchen, heating up the soba that was now all soggy while the pitter-patter of the rain was still hitting the windows. He was just finished slurping down the broth when he noticed it was almost midnight.
He pondered over the idea for a few seconds before he finally gave in, quickly washing his bowl and chopsticks and leaving them to dry before he went to the living room. There, he sat in front of the TV, one eye on the clock, and he waited. Honestly, he didn’t know why he didn’t do that from the start instead of trying to find people who would only know bits and pieces of rumors. It only took a few minutes for something to appear.
“At last I caught you, fiend!”
His entire body jerked when the voice resonated in the room. He scrambled on his knees to get closer to the TV and take a better look, his heart beating wildly in his ears, but he knew he wasn’t wrong. That voice, he was sure about it, he heard it so many times one year ago—booming, chivalrous, almost outrageous. Like the person wanted everyone to look at him, to see him perform, and to keep their eyes on him, always.
His face was hidden behind some kind of mask that reminded him of Featherman, with all the attire that went with it. The cape flying behind him was bright red, and as soon as he was done with some kind of triumphant pose, he raised his fist and roared : “Don’t worry everyone! It was a tough battle, but here I am to save the day! I’m Red Phoenix, and I’ll never stop fighting for justice!”
Akira almost wanted to call Morgana downstairs to be sure this wasn’t some kind of weird TV show he never heard about. However, he couldn’t get away from the screen for one second and he didn’t want to wake his mother up. He could only watch, transfixed, as the boy whose death he just started getting over was here, on the screen, playing hero.
“Ah, but I think it’s already time to say goodbye… Please don’t miss the next episode, 'Justice punishes Evil'! You don’t want to miss it!” he added as a star twinkled next to his head, as if he’d winked at the camera that kept on filming him from a low angle. “See you!”
Then, Red Phoenix moved away from the camera that was tilting down, letting the audience see that all this time, he wasn't alone. Just behind him, tied up on a chair with his head down, wearing a tight suit with dark stripes and chestnut hair all over his face—was Akechi.
Akira jumped and actually brought his hand against the screen, as if he could reach for the other man. “Oops!” Red Phoenix said, quickly running back into the frame. “Spoilers! ”
“A—” he started screaming.
And then he fell.
To be continued.