Licensed For Mercy

by themightyalex

Summary:

“To decide the fate of the world, it chose two people with potential and pitted them against each other. One—Goro Akechi—incited the masses’ distortion. The other was a Trickster who would stand up against this…”

Two sides of the same coin, both more similar to the other than they think, try to figure out how to move on. An unexpected encounter at the train station as Ren begins to return home leads them to the conclusion that they needed each other for more than just their destiny.

—————————————————————

This has spoilers!!! Taking place at the end of the true ending, after taking down Maruki’s Palace, the cutscene views Akechi walking past through the train window. With some connecting the dots and a bit of stretching, I’ve given my still grieving brain an excuse to fawn over Shuake.

Notes:

This will, hopefully, be a series. While I make no promises in fulfilling that to the fullest, I do intend on making the tags I have provided my goals to cover. I hope you enjoy,

Chapter 1: Prologue

Ren slowly walked up to the van, gazing at the Phantom Thieves all piled inside. His bag slung over his shoulder, yet it wasn’t a school bag or his day-to-day one. The blue duffel bag weighed heavily crammed with everything he could take back home from the lengthy eight and a half months he stayed with Sojiro.

“After we’d said we’d disband…” Yusuke said softly as he looked out the window.

Haru chuckled from beside him. “We are all on break, after all.”

Makoto nodded and looked towards Ren. “No more entrance exams. I can drive you to the station.”

Futaba looked at him and shied back. “You really, really gotta go?”

Ren opened his mouth to reply, tried to say he wish he didn’t have to, but no words came out. Ann frowned and adjusted the rear view mirror, appearing to focus on the black car that tried to subtly blend in parked on the side of the road. It’s a little obvious when the men were in formal suits staring at them holding a mic to their mouth. Those agents were insistent on stalking them. They were technically still dangerous criminals, Ren supposed. Even if they were helping.

“Shit,” Ryuji cursed quietly.

“They’ve even followed us here?” Yusuke murmured, followed by Makoto.

“What should we do?”

A car pulled up behind Ren, the voice inside startling Ren out of his thoughts. “Need a hand?”

“Doctor Maruki?!” Ryuji exclaimed, to which Maruki chuckled and tilted his hat up. He popped open the back passenger door.

“You’re suggesting we split up?” Makoto asked.

“Should we?” Futaba mumbled. Ryuji thought for a moment before a smile crept up his lips and he gave an enthusiastic thumbs up.

Ren nodded, turning back to the navy taxi. A white stripe lined its sides, the signature sign on its roof stating its designated job. ‘8L-M42’ decorated the license plate.

Climbing into the car was quiet between the two of them, as the rest of his group closed the door and sped off, the cabal of agents in close pursuit. “Shall we, then?” Even now, after everything, Maruki hadn’t given up on helping people. He turned his attention to the road as Ren gazed out the window.

He parked in front of the station and glanced to where Ren was shuffling through his pockets to find his wallet. “There’s no charge,” he said. Ren paused and glanced up. “If you find yourself struggling in life… you can start over, like me. Remember that.” Maruki lifted his eyes to look at Ren through the mirror, before turning around to face him. “So yeah, if that ends up saving you…” he extended his hand in a fist bump, “…then we’re square. Good luck.”

It was only a moment later until the van skidded up beside Ren, taking place of the car he had just gotten out of and nearly running him over in the process. Ryuji pried open the door. “Damn man, those dudes just wouldn’t give up!”

Futaba peeked out from behind him. “Wish it went smoother, but… I guess this is it!”

Yusuke and Haru leaned forward from the back seats. “Be sure to eat well,” Yusuke advised.

“We’ll see you. Soon, right?”

“If you don’t come back, we’ll find you there,” Ann chimed in playfully.

Makoto glanced at the console and rocked the stick shift to drive. “All right, it’s time.” She was met with several of the group’s complaints, but they were already off. “See you later, my dude!” Ryuji shouted from the still-open car door.

“I’ll text you, okaaaaay?” Futaba called, now sticking her head out of the roof hatch.

“Come on! Sit down!” Makoto chided.

Ren watched as they drove off, yet again followed by the cabal that must’ve spotted their bright blue car. He adjusted the duffel bag on his shoulder and started walking. The station was as busy as ever, with various people waiting near the stationary trains or walking with luggage trailing behind them. He peeked over his shoulder as his bag began to squeak and thrash.

He would’ve undid the zipper if he didn’t bump shoulders with someone. She made a quiet ‘ahem’ to get his attention, “You taught me to keep my head up, didn’t you?”

Morgana burst out of his bag with a loud gasp in his ear. “Toldja I was comin’ with you—“ but immediately shut up as he caught sight of Sumire. She gave a bow to them both and a friendly smile.

“Take care,” she said softly, before walking past. Ren watched her go, watched the way she walked so confidently now. Morgana nudged him to get his attention and gestured for them to continue.

The two walked in silence, and Ren whispered a soft goodbye to the only person he hadn’t been able to as he entered the train.

Chapter 2

Notes:

First (second) chapter! Giving you guys some stuff to go off of for what this series will be like, so here you go! It may or may not pick up or slow down, depends on however I write this.

It’s not like he would miss him.

 

Why would he miss the person who tried to kill him three times? Hell, he’d probably do it again if he was alive.

 

What irked him was that he didn’t even have a body to mourn. Out of respect, of course. Because now he was just a rotting corpse on the cold, rusted metal in the hellish mindscape of his father. He even had the audacity to show that the hope Ren had held out for him could’ve been worth something right before he died. Dying was the worth-something part, and as much as he appreciated the sentiment of sacrificing himself to do one good thing in his life, he would’ve preferred it that one good thing was something that didn’t take said life. 

 

Ren found himself thinking about his glove again as he found his seat on the train. He had left it there on the shelf in Leblanc, thinking leaving it would make his thoughts about him leave as well. He had been avoiding thinking about it, about him, as much as possible, and avoiding saying his name. It felt wrong to speak it, to think it, knowing he could’ve done something to keep his name alive, or at least had time to say goodbye. And he did have time, speaking to him when his only goal was to stop Maruki from making him happy. That was oversimplifying it, he had gone over that moral dilemma once already.

 

But no, he had resigned his death like he deserved it.

 

He hadn’t heard anyone mention him since then. No quiet chatter among civilians, no news articles, nothing. Maybe they still think he’s alive and just focusing on his studies. Or they forgot about him, and he should too. 

 

Morgana laid belly-up, sleeping in his duffle bag. He had no clue how that was comfortable, but then again, cats were liquid. His phone buzzed with a notification on the ledge of the window. He lifted his head to look, and a prickle of unease shuddered through him. Like his heart had paused and his blood suddenly warmed.

 

His peripheral vision caught that all-too familiar tan peacoat and black gloves and yellow badge. He immediately shifted his attention, immediately sat up in his seat and his breath caught in his throat, yet the figure was already out of sight.

 

He was just tired, Ren reasoned with himself. He was thinking about him, and saw a man with a similar outfit and thought it was him. It could’ve been anyone. Another person with a detective-looking outfit, or just the same color shirt and his mind filled in the blanks. Or it was some cosplayer. A bit creepy, but he wouldn’t be surprised.

 

Yet something in his head screamed that it was him, that he was there, walking in the station and alive. And the rational part of his mind screamed as he stood up and snagged his bag without concern for Morgana inside that he was just tired and grieving.

 

Regardless, as the train started to move, so did Ren. He practically ran to the nearest door and pressed the emergency stop button, ignoring the people staring at him as the train slowed to a stop and Ren pried open the manual lever for the door.

 

He launched himself out and broke into a sprint. He didn’t care if he hit anyone, Akechi was supposed to be dead. Gone, a month old rotting corpse. There was no way he could’ve lived. Ren couldn’t get through that door, Futaba had told him she couldn’t get his signal anymore. He was dead. Akechi was dead.

 

He recognized the bright red 25 on the pillar of the platform he had seen him at. He couldn’t walk that fast, his outfit would stand out, he was somewhere. Unless he was imagining it and he just threw off an entire train schedule and a lot of busy people for no reason. He shouldn’t have had so much coffee, he should’ve gotten more sleep and left the thoughts of Akechi behind in Leblanc. But going home didn’t matter to him, because Leblanc felt more like home than home ever had. Akechi felt more like home.

 

A flash of brown hair turning the corner in a sea of black alerted him. He shoved through a large group of people talking amongst the chatter of the station and kept going, searching for the person he was now sort of sure mostly hoping was alive. He had to be. He skidded around the corner, ignoring the meow of protest somewhere in his bag, and finally catching sight of him.

 

The tan peacoat, the slightly more disheveled than usual brown hair, that familiar walk. His hand hovered over his shoulder for only a moment before his wrist was snagged and he was yanked away, moving both of them out of the light foot traffic and sliding his bag off his shoulder and away. Akechi’s golden eyes searched him over, and then recoiled in recognition. 

 

He let go of his wrist, and took a step back. And he looked away with narrowed eyes and turned around, swiftly trying to blend into a passing crowd.

 

Ren looked at him in awe as he let his mind short circuit and reboot, until he was conscious enough to realize Akechi was leaving. He ran forward, snagging his bag along the way, and grabbed his wrist. “Akechi?”

 

He was met with silence as he stopped walking. He could hear the slow inhale before he turned around and faced him with a soft, confused smile. “Are you talking to me? You had startled me there. Do I know you?”

 

Ren blinked a few times, staring at him, searching his eyes, his smile, the crinkle lines that always betrayed when he was faking it. “Yes, you do.”

 

“No, I don’t believe I do,” Akechi murmured quietly. He tried to pull his wrist away, but Ren only tightened his hold on it. “Can I help you?” Ren grit his teeth. He only tugged him closer. Akechi’s expression faltered to show frustration.

 

“I thought you were gone,” Ren said after a moment of silence. “You’re supposed to have disappeared, you’re supposed to be dead—“

 

“Supposed to be?” Akechi scoffed. His innocent mask slipped off his face, and he didn’t bother to pick it up. “If I’m supposed to be gone, then let go of me and I’ll leave.”

 

Ren flinched back at his biting tone. “No, no no, I wasn’t trying to—“

 

“What do you want, Amamiya?”

 

He paused, desperately searching his eyes. “I thought you were dead, how are you…?”

 

“How am I what?” Akechi asked. “How am I alive? Because I’m breathing and my heart is pumping, does that answer your question?”

 

“…Not really,” Ren answered weakly. How did he live? Was he okay? Where was he going?

 

“One question,” Akechi uttered before he could even begin to voice anything. “You get one question.”

 

One question. One question out of thousands to ask his situationship rival who he thought was dead for a month but suddenly appeared walking in a train station as he was about to leave for home. One question, because knowing Akechi he would give an answer that wasn’t really an answer and walk away. 

 

“Will you stay?” Ren whispered.

 

Akechi seemed to falter. His brows furrowed, yet softened; his eyes sharpened, yet dulled. “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean stay,” Ren responded quietly. “Stay here. In Tokyo. Not… wherever you’re trying to leave to. Where are you going?”

 

“I said one question,” Akechi muttered. But he fell quiet and answered anyway. “Away.”

 

“Where is away?”

 

He seemed to let out a heavy breath. His eyes never left his, grey meeting a beautiful burnt umber in a silent conversation. “I don’t know. Away from Japan. Away from everything.”

 

Ren could hear the conflicted tone in his voice. The confusion, the pain, all of it. “Then stay,” he offered softly. “You’re supposed to stay where you are when you’re lost.”

 

“…I’m not lost.”

 

“You sound lost,” Ren murmured. “Stay. Go home. Please.” Akechi dropped his eyes. His arm seemed to itch to pull away, yet he didn’t move. “I’ll go back with you. I’m not going anywhere that can’t wait. We can… We can go to your apartment if you don’t want to be near anyone else. We can just sit down, and—“

 

“No.”

 

Ren paused. “Why?” He was met with silence. “Is it another ‘I don’t know’?” Again, there was only silence. Ren stepped a little closer. “Akechi, what’s going on?”

 

His lips tightened and the hand Ren was holding by the wrist curled into a fist. “Just leave, okay?”

 

“I can’t do that,” Ren whispered. He seemed so on edge, his voice sounded so dull and tired. He hated hearing him like this. “Please. Just stay. We don’t even have to talk.”

 

“Will it get you to leave me alone?”

 

Ren laughed softly, letting his tone try to soothe him. “Maybe it will, yeah.”

 

Akechi shook his head and dragged a gloved hand down his face. “Fine. Fine. Just… Just for a while.”

 

“Thank you,” Ren whispered. Both of them fell quiet, yet neither of them moved. Akechi’s legs seemed buckled, his body was tense. Ren gave a light tug on his wrist and began to walk, glancing behind him to make sure he was following.

Chapter 3

He couldn’t say this is what he had expected when Akechi reluctantly accepted his request to enter his small apartment.

 

There were papers scattered everywhere. Taped to the wall, sprawled over the floor, desk, and even bed. Some were crumpled, others were completely blank, while the ones that had writing were hardly legible. A few mugs were empty and piled next to the desk. Some empty orange pill bottles had been left on the floor.

 

“Don't step on anything,” he said as he maneuvered his way around the papers to crouch over the coffee maker on the floor. He turned it on and it whirred to life.

 

Ren didn't move from the doorway. It seemed to be the only “clean” spot in the entire apartment. Akechi navigated the room with a second nature, stepping around papers as if they’d been there so long it had become muscle memory. He shifted over to the desk and swept the papers off his laptop like dust. Ren supposed he was about ready to leave everything behind in this apartment if he hadn’t stopped him in the station.

 

It was both amusing and concerning, the annoyed grumble Akechi gave when his laptop refused to power on and his struggle to find the charger behind his desk. He plugged it in and immediately snagged a pill bottle off the floor. The bottle read in large letters, ADDERALL. He poured a pill into his hand, then thought about it before adding another. He took them without any drink—his coffee machine hadn’t labored a drop yet—and navigated across the papers.

 

“Why are you just standing there?” he asked without looking back at him.

 

Unsure how to respond, Ren stared at him. Where was he supposed to go?

 

He stared back with another groan and cleared a path to the bed, brushing off a clear spot. “Sit down or something,” he said as he passed by him and entered the bathroom. “I’m taking a shower.”

 

And he did so, without another word. His so-called “shower” lasted no more than two minutes. He came out of the bathroom in sweatpants and a black turtleneck with hair still wet and dripping ice cold water onto his collar. He sat down in the chair and opened his laptop, pouring the small amount of coffee produced before putting the pot back on the machine to let it make more, no kind of milk or creamer in sight to add.

 

“Did you want any of that?” he asked, not taking his eyes away from the screen.

 

Ren’s voice was quiet. “No, thank you.”

 

“Good.” His own voice was curt. “I wasn’t going to share.” He let a sigh slowly drag from his mouth as he clicked through a maze of tabs. He looked tired. The way his back slouched in his chair, the cold tone in his words—all the complete opposite of how he held himself in public.

 

Ren had his suspicions that he wasn’t okay, that had been the main reason he had wanted to come over today after their brief encounter. His public persona had been slipping far too much, and he could see why now. A part of him wondered what he had been doing in the last month, but he avoided asking.

 

“What are you working on?” Ren said absently, as his mind was more focused on trying to make out the scribbled writing on a paper next to him. He doubted even Akechi could actually read it.

 

“That’s confidential.”

 

“Oh.” He remained quiet for a moment. “Can I–“

 

“No,” he cut him off without any hesitation.

 

Ren frowned. “I haven’t even said anything yet.”

 

Akechi, lips pressed to a firm line, turned in his chair to look at him. “You’re easy to read, Amamiya. No, you can’t know any details; no, it doesn’t concern you or the Phantom Thieves; and no, you can’t help with anything.”

 

Ren’s eyes drifted off to the side. Akechi had listed all of his questions, in order.

 

Akechi had begun typing again in his silence. Ren, meanwhile, took the time to examine the room. The most prominent thing—aside from the papers, of course—was the ticking clock. It was placed conveniently right next to the desk at eye level, making it impossible to not look at, no matter where one was in the room. It wasn’t even close to the current time.

 

It just ticked, and ticked, and ticked away the seconds of every minute of every hour of every day.

 

The second most prominent was the blackout curtain over the only window in the apartment. Ren doubted even an ounce of light could get through, no matter the time. The only light actually in this room was provided by the laptop and the washed overhead bulb similar to that of a hospital light.

 

The last thing that caught his eye was a closer look of the papers taped on the walls. Many seemed to have nothing to do with actual work, or if they did, it appeared to be a long outdated to-do list. They were scattered far more than just near the desk. There were particularly several in the corner the bed was tucked into. If Ren were to lay down facing the wall, they’d be the majority of his vision. If he laid away from the wall, his eyes would be once more drawn to the ticking clock at the desk.

 

It was as if the entire room was built for constant work, with every corner serving as a reminder of his responsibilities set upon himself.

 

Ren was pulled out of my thoughts by the sound of him pouring more coffee into his cup. “Are you sure you should be having more?” he murmured.

 

Akechi paused. “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean that at some point being tired can’t be fixed by caffeine or–” he glanced at the bottle on his desk. “–Adderall.”

 

He spoke simply as if the question was unnecessary. “I have work to do.”

 

“That’s not healthy,” Ren replied quietly.

 

Akechi barked out a laugh. “Nothing I do is healthy according to you.”

 

“Because it’s not.”

 

He replied with a hum. “Oh well. I have things to do and a small amount of time to do them.”

 

Ren’s thumbs fiddled in his lap absently. Akechi was stubborn about everything, even more so with his health. His reckless abandon somehow worried him more than his sadistic tendencies. “And is this time limit set by your workaholic brain, or from an actual source?”

 

Akechi’s typing paused. “Shut your ass.”

 

“But I’m not talking out of my ass.”

 

He took a sip of his coffee, likely as an excuse to slam it down dramatically on the desk. “You’re making it very hard to focus.”

 

Ren only laughed. “Oh, am I now? Why do I have the feeling you’re just as incapable of work when I’m not here?” He leaned forward, staring at the back of Akechi’s head. “You’re going to crash and burn any day now.”

 

He grumbled softly and rested his head in his hand, seeming to have given up on typing. He could see his head tilt towards the ever-ticking clock and he could feel his weighing anxiety as he gazed at it. With a quiet sigh, Ren stood from his place on the bed and leaned over the desk to grab the clock. He took it off the wall and flipped it over.

 

“What are you doing?” Akechi murmured.

 

“What does it look like I’m doing? Your apartment is a factory more than anything. Just look at yourself,” Ren gestured blindly to Akechi’s exhausted form while trying to turn the clock off. Akechi stared at him silently while he popped out one of the batteries and set it down on the desk. “Now, how much of these papers do you actually need? Seeing as to how you were about to up and leave an hour ago, I doubt they’re anything important?”

 

Akechi glanced around the room. He was doing a horrible job at hiding the dread in his eyes. Even the Adderall and massive amounts of caffeine he’d had weren’t helping. “They’re all important,” he said quietly.

 

Ren began picking up the papers. “I’m not saying they aren’t, I’m saying they should have a place that isn’t everywhere.” He sighed, giving up on picking up each paper one-by-one and simply shuffling them into a pile. “What about the ones on the walls?”

 

“Those stay,” Akechi answered quickly this time.

 

Ren placed his collected stack of papers on the desk and began picking up the crumbled up papers to throw away. “Why Is that? And something other than just ‘they’re important.’”

 

He still stared at him, seeming too confused by his attempts to help to do anything but look at him. “But they are.”

 

Ren shot him an accusatory glance. “Are they important because they’re work or are they important because it’s telling you to overwork yourself? And don’t even start, half of your to-do lists on those things are over four months old.”

 

His eyes drifted to the wall before he reluctantly agreed. “Fine. Do what you want.”

 

And he did so without hesitation. He wanted to make Akechi’s apartment as much like an apartment rather than some kind of work prison he seems to have locked himself in. He didn’t know why he was so adamant on overworking himself, nor did he know what Akechi would be trying to prove by working himself to exhaustion.

 

After nearly thirty minutes of silence and Akechi’s staring, Ren had picked up all the papers into a neat stack and placed them in a drawer, and placed the various dirty dishes in a pile on the small kitchenette counter to wash later. He hid his laptop as well—same with the clock—and took down the blackout curtain to open the window and allow the midday air to flush the stuffy room. It certainly wasn’t perfect, but it seemed a little more friendly and not so suffocating. All this time, Akechi’s staring had never ceased. Ren grabbed the blanket off the bed to wrap around his shoulders.

 

“What are you doing?” he asked for the second time.

 

Ren smiled at him gently. “Helping you get some rest. Come on,” he said as he grabbed his wrist, trying to pull him up from the chair.

 

Akechi did so, gazing around the room like it was completely new. Then, he looked at Ren, who gestured to the bed, and Akechi climbed in. He set his glasses down on the bedside table and made sure the blanket was nice and tucked in around him before climbing in as well.

 

A little hesitantly, Ren settled down and kept a nice amount of distance between them. He felt Akechi tense, then relax. Ren gave a small hum of encouragement and closed his eyes. He could feel him pause in his breathing before it fell in to match his own.

 

“Better?” Ren whispered. When he didn’t respond, he continued, “I worry about you when you’re like this. Especially when I’ve thought you were dead for a month. You know that, right?”

 

Akechi gave a distant rumble in his throat that betrayed his exhaustion. “You worry about everything. It’s incredibly annoying.”

 

Ren laughed softly. “Yeah, but I worry about you in particular.” He drifted a little closer, ignoring the urge to reach over and touch his shoulder. “Can you please stop working yourself so hard? You don’t need to do that anymore.”

 

He stayed quiet for several moments. Ren could only be glad that the clock wasn’t ticking down the seconds to his reply. “It feels wrong not to.”

 

“We can fix that,” Ren assured him, “but making your entire apartment revolve around this isn’t helping. I don’t think I should have to tell you that.” He heard a sigh before he matched his breathing again. “Just start with today. Tonight. Get some sleep. For me?”

 

Akechi seemed a little more distant now. A fear crept into his voice, rising from the depths of what he hid from the world. “Will you stay here?” he whispered.

 

Ren was the one who hesitated this time. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”

 

Notes:

There you go, a little peek into what I believe Akechi’s apartment would look like. A workaholic mindset because that’s the only thing he knows.

Chapter 4

Early moonlight seeped in through the window. Ren could hear Akechi shifting and moving around next to him, the rustling of bedsheets and clothes, and then the quiet footsteps on the hardwood floor. He roused in his sleep, slowly sitting up and rubbing the sleep crusts from his eyes.

 

Akechi glanced behind him and cursed under his breath. “Go back to sleep, Amamiya.”

 

Ren mumbled blearily in reply. “What are you doing?” 

 

Akechi had walked over to his desk and was shoving his wallet and phone in his pockets. “Bathroom,” he muttered as he walked to the apartment door and swiftly exited.

 

“Okay,” Ren said as he laid back down. He didn’t remember the bathroom being the door on the left. It was the one right next to the bed. Wait, so why was he-?

 

Ren sat back up immediately and stumbled out of the bed, his socks slipping on the floor as he rushed out. “Akechi!” he called after him, though he was only the back of his coat descending the metal stairs. He ran out to catch him as Akechi seemed to go down faster. “Akechi, wait!”

 

Ren grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him to a stop. “Don’t touch me!” Akechi shouted, spinning to hit his hand away and tripping on the stairs. Ren let go of his collar and snagged his wrist instead to prevent him from falling.

 

“Where are you going?” Ren asked. His voice was still raspy with sleep, but concern was hidden beneath it.

 

Akechi glared at him. “Does it matter? I’m leaving.”

 

“Leaving where?” Ren reiterated.

 

“Gods, just shut up! I’m going back to the train station, alright? Happy?”

 

Ren paused and a look of hurt flashed in his eyes. “You said you’d stay,” he uttered.

 

“That was to get you off my ass,” Akechi scoffed. “I never said for how long. I never planned on staying, and I sure as hell don’t want to stay with you.”

 

“Akechi,” Ren started, only for him to cut him off.

 

“What? ‘Akechi’ what, Amamiya? You don’t want me to leave? I don’t have to do this?” He gave a harsh yank on his wrist to pry him off, though Ren’s grip had already weakened. “Just, shut, up. Okay? I’ve been perfectly fine on my own without you barging in trying to play therapist. So here’s an idea, know when to quit and fuck off.”

 

Ren recoiled his hand and held it absently at his chest. For a long moment neither one moved, until Akechi broke off and began descending the stairs again. Ren followed suit and stopped him again by slipping past and moving in front of him. “Or maybe you could listen to me!” he snapped, stepping forward to push him up a few steps. “Maybe you could quit trying to run away and have some dignity to at least give a reason!”

 

“Running away?” Akechi repeated, before laughing. “You think I’m running away? There you go again, thinking you have everything figured out, huh? You’re going to say that I’m scared to face my actions, right? Have you ever thought, oh, I don’t know, that I’m moving on?”

 

“Akechi, we can talk about this,” Ren whispered almost desperately. “I’m trying to help you, you don’t have to do all of this on your own.”

 

“Of course you are. You know, you have this habit where you don’t seem to notice when your help really isn’t wanted.” When Ren stayed silent, Akechi continued. “Maybe I’m trying to start over. Maybe I faked my death in that damn engine room. Maybe I’ve been doing everything on my own!” He paused for a moment, his eyes searching Ren’s as if waiting, wanting him to interject. He didn’t. “Or is that too complicated for you? So sorry my life isn’t revolving around you, Joker. I’m tired of you trying to find a solution to everything.”

 

Ren took several moments to stare at him. Faked his death? He had heard the gunshots. Futaba had lost his signal. Maruki had even said that he was part of his reality… No, that didn’t matter right now. That was a question for later. Ren scoffed quietly. “That’s what running away is, Akechi. You’re acting like you hate me because you don’t know how to deal with the fact that you’re hurt!”

 

“See! You just did it!” Akechi burst out laughing. It was a cruel laugh, almost hysterically pained, as he continued. “Just diagnose me with something at this point, Amamiya. Make up your mind. Do you want to ‘change my heart’? Or how about this: if you want to help so badly, leave me alone and forget I ever fucking existed!”

 

Ren flinched and both of them fell silent. It hurt to see him like this. It hurt to see him deflect anything he said into something aggressive to avoid actually talking about it. “I don’t want to do that,” he whispered. “You know I’m not going to do that.” Akechi didn’t respond, prompting him to continue with words he hadn’t found yet. “Do you… Do you know how hard I tried to get back in that room after you hit the emergency lock down? I didn’t want to leave you. I couldn’t. I thought you were dead. And what about with Maruki? Were you just going to disappear after that too?”

 

Akechi let out a breath and spoke quietly. “What does it matter? I don’t care. I know I’m an asshole, alright? I get it. So what’s the issue with me leaving?”

 

“Because I want you to stay,” Ren said. “Is that so hard to believe? That I want you to stay simply because I like you around? Yeah, maybe you are an asshole, but that doesn’t mean you have to leave when we both know you never wanted any of this.”

 

Silence fell over them again. There was nothing but their breathing to fill the tense air outside the apartment. “I will never understand you,” Akechi muttered.

 

“I know,” Ren said back. “But I’m not letting you do this. You can start over without running away.”

 

Akechi scoffed, but didn’t argue. “Yeah, sure. You piss me off.” He turned around and walked up the few stairs he had gone down and swung the door to the apartment open. He stepped inside and slammed it behind him, with Ren quietly following a moment after.

Chapter 5

Ren shuffled his feet absently as he sat on the couch, staring at Akechi. He hadn’t moved from lying on the bed, scrolling through an app on his phone. Ren didn’t like silence, he never had, it made him overthink and worry. And he hated sitting still even more so.

 

He glanced at his phone. It was past two in the morning, now. How long had they been sitting here? 

 

Neither seemed keen to break the silence between them. At least the clock wasn’t ticking down the seconds. His leg bouncing might be worse, though, as he sighed and rested his head back on the couch and closed his eyes.

 

Ren found himself in another fitful bit of sleep, falling into it before waking only minutes later and slipping back in again. It was more exhausting than just staying awake.

 

There was birdsong now. He pried open his eyes to see the dim early morning light seep in through the window, and Akechi still tied to his phone. Ren forced himself to sit up and dragged a hand over his face. Five in the morning. He stood and stumbled over his duffel bag that seemed emptier than usual and made his way to the bathroom.

 

Oh, the bathroom was a mess. Clothes were scattered everywhere. Was that mold? He splashed water on his face with the settled thought of ‘I’ll clean that later’ and made his way back out.

 

Akechi had lifted his head to look at him, but settled back down when the two locked eyes. Ren walked past the bed to the small kitchenette. He didn’t know what he was doing as he began searching through the pantry. Breakfast. Food sounded nice. Akechi probably hadn’t eaten in a while. But he was also pissed and he didn’t want to ask if he had.

 

Breakfast. What was this pantry? There might as well be cobwebs with how empty it was. There were some protein bars… a half empty box of cereal in the back… 

 

Flour. He could work with flour. This was flour, right? He was too tired for this. Ren scavenged around a little more and managed to find salt and sugar, alongside olive oil and baking powder buried in the back that seemed to be open to just make it smell nice. He had some eggs in the fridge and— never mind, those were expired.

 

He threw those away, and found yet another carton of untouched eggs buried beneath way overripe bananas. Those were fine to eat, and he set them beside the other ingredients. A mostly empty carton of milk was awkwardly sitting on a pile of sticks of butter—he didn’t question it—and Ren grabbed that and a stick of butter for good measure. 

 

Once he found a measuring cup and bowl, the rest was mostly muscle memory. He used a fork, seeing as to how Akechi didn’t seem to own a whisk, and sifted together the dry ingredients before cracking two eggs in and poured the rest of the milk in with hopes it was enough, and then whisked all of that in.

 

Ren eyeballed a little more flour until it seemed like the right consistency and half heartedly prepped the pan with olive oil and started up the stove that really didn’t seem to like to light. Thirty minutes later and he was cutting up slightly overripe strawberries to put on a stack of pancakes and placing the plate on the bed next to Akechi. “Eat,” Ren mumbled.

 

Akechi lifted his eyes from his phone and landed on the plate. “I’m not hungry.”

 

“Yes you are,” Ren muttered as he turned away to finish up the rest of the batch.

 

“No, I’m not.”

 

Ren sighed. “I don’t care, okay? Just eat.”

 

Silence settled on them again. Akechi picked off the sliced strawberries on top and ate them quietly. Ren finished the rest of the batter and took two pancakes for himself and returned to the couch.

 

 

“I’m sorry,” Ren said in the silence that stretched on after.

 

“…What for?”

 

It was quiet for a moment. “Everything,” Ren mumbled. “I don’t know. I just… You said you wanted to leave.”

 

“Is this necessary?” Goro scoffed. Ren didn’t respond. “Continue.”

 

“I just feel bad. I’m keeping you here when you clearly hate this place and I already know you hate me,” he murmured. “I should’ve just let you leave.”

 

Goro sighed quietly. “Amamiya… no. No, you shouldn’t have. Just shut up, alright? I don’t want to hear you feeling sorry for yourself.” There was silence. “I’m glad you stopped me. It’s not like I knew where I was going.” More silence. “I’m saying thank you, God. I’m just sorry you have to deal with me at this point.”

 

Ren was quiet for longer. He seemed exhausted. “You’re welcome.”

Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Notes:

Sorry for not updating in eight months but uhm here it is!! A bit of a short chapter, life is hectic, yada yada but the shuake has hit from 2/2 and it’d be wrong to not continue the fic after so long. Enjoy!

Ren returned to Leblanc maybe an hour later. Figured he’d give both of them some time, and let himself process that he just paid for, went, and ditched his way home. He still felt guilty for throwing off the train schedule.

 

And then it occurred to him that he left his key with Sojiro with the intent on going home and the cafe was still closed because it was six in the goddamn morning and he was exhausted. 

 

He stood there, staring at the ‘closed’ sign hanging on the glass door. 

 

A little silhouette trotted up to the door, white paws and muzzle illuminated in the early morning light. “Morgana?” Ren murmured mostly to himself. Oh wait. Had he not been in his bag the whole time? He hadn’t seen him since… shit he left him there.

 

Morgana clearly seemed upset about that. He sat down in front of the door, tail curled nearly over his paws and ears pinned back. Just staring at him.

 

Ren huffed and knocked. The cat didn’t move. He knocked again and pulled on the door this time. Morgana didn’t move. No, he did move. He turned around and walked off.

 

Ren groaned and dragged a hand over his face, moving a pot off the chair next to the door and sitting down. He was not about to sit here and wait for Sojiro to get here and open the door. But he didn’t have to, as the door pushed open an inch before Morgana fell from the half-wall inside with a thump on the floor. Ren looked up and stared for a moment, before opening the door and walking in.

 

“You’re welcome,” Morgana muttered. “I should’ve left you out there. You know, like how you ditched me at the train station two miles away!”

 

Ren bit his tongue. Yeah, he deserved that. Leblanc was the exact same as it was when he left it however many hours ago. Morgana must’ve walked all the way here. “Okay, I’m sorry, I just—“

 

“What?” Morgana cut him off. “You saw the boy that tried to kill you and just had to chase after him?”

 

He opened his mouth, closed it, opened, closed it again. “But he was supposed to be dead!” Ren managed to choke out.

 

“Good!” Morgana snapped back. His tail was lashing over the floorboards. “He should be dead!”

 

“Should be?!” Ren snapped back. But he relented—it was too early to argue like this. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t realize you had slipped out.”

 

The cat huffed. “Fine. You’re forgiven.” A moment of quiet passed over them. “Was that really Akechi?”

 

 

“It was,” Ren assured. “He was… running away, I guess. I don’t know. He’s not okay.”

 

Morgana scoffed. “Well yeah, he’s supposed to be dead.”

 

Ren brushed past him. He slipped up the stairs into the attic with Morgana at his feet. The black glove had been left untouched on the shelf. Leaving it there hadn’t forced his thoughts to leave, nonetheless. He grabbed it, held it. Shoved it in his pocket. 

 

The bell for the door chimed someone’s entry. “Who’s there? Show yourself!”

 

Morgana had zipped downstairs before Ren could begin to. The cat leapt onto the counter and meowed away at the man. “The cat…? Ren?”

 

“Hey, Boss,” Ren said with a nervous laugh.

 

Sojiro nearly stumbled back. He flicked the light on. “What are you-? How did you-?” He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his now. “Never mind. Why are you still here?”

 

“Long story, uh…” How was he supposed to explain? And surely Sojiro would not take well to knowing he’d ditched his train to chase after the detective Sojiro hated the guts of. Luckily, he didn’t have to explain. Futaba trailed in through the door after him, yawning and rubbing her eyes. 

 

“Sojirooooo… I told you to wait for me…” she mumbled. But whatever sleepiness that had plagued her was shaken off when her eyes focused on Ren. Her whole body weight came crashing into him. “Ren! You’re back! Did I sleep through a whole year?! Oh my gosh! Why are you here? Didja bring Mona?!”

 

Berated by her questions, and still half asleep, Ren stumbled to support her weight. “Yeah, yeah, I missed you too… it’ll probably be better if I tell everyone at the same time, yeah?”

Notes:

Hopefully people still see this… it’s been a while…

Notes:

Thank you for reading! Like I said, I will be trying my best to write this. My brain does not do well with story lining, so forgive me for minor plot holes or such, but you will be getting your healthy amount of angst and fluff.