Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The first thing Akira felt when he stepped foot on Tokyo was an overwhelming feeling of guilt.

In fact, it was so much so that he immediately felt lightheaded as soon as he was on the train platform. Shortly after, there was a rush of memories of another time that felt so long ago and yet so vivid like it had only occurred yesterday. Memories of his beloved Phantom Thieves, the grand and lavish heists in palaces, his many trusted confidants, and Goro Akechi... He recalled them all, up until the most recent point where he somehow met his demise by the hands of his rivaled ace detective. 

Well, not exactly; Akechi did shoot him but he shot Akira's cognitive self. Akira, by some sick, twisted karma, was shot by Shido's cognitive version of his one and only son. Trying to remember the memory felt so painful but Akira forced himself to recall it more clearly.

It was after Akechi's cognitive self had suggested for someone to take his place to die when he recalled the sudden urge to step in. He moved in front of Akechi's battered form, facing his cognitive self as he cocked the barrel of the gun on Akira's chest. Everything from that point on was lost to him and he could only recall the vague feeling of chills down his spine as he watched Akechi's cognitive self unwaveringly pull the trigger. Then he was on the ground, staring back at nothing but his cold, crimson eyes as the sounds of his name from so many familiar voices were drowned out to silence. What went wrong? he wondered to himself before his consciousness seemingly fades into the void.

Akira suddenly feels the strong urge to vomit and quickly doubles over as he tries to suppress the waves of nausea. All he got from that was a couple looks of concern from nearby passengers but otherwise, no one bothered to help.

Of course nobody did. This was a city full of thousands and thousands of people with things to do and places to see, and not one of them had the time to check if he was alright. He was nothing but a nobody again, just a scrawny teenager with a glaring criminal record.

Maybe that was all he ever will be.

"Hey, are you alright?" someone asked him. "Can you hear me?"

He feels a hand on his back and Akira tries to find the strength to look up, only to find himself face to face with none other than the very source of his distress.

Akira's instincts suddenly kicked into gear, pushing himself away from the detective and landing onto the floor. Akechi looked at him as if he had went mad and was thus, utterly speechless. When Akira realized that nearby passengers had stopped to watch them, he quickly grabbed his bag, scrambled to his feet, and ran into the crowd before muttering a hurried 'Sorry!' to the detective. He could hear Akechi call out for him to stop before it was quickly drowned out by the noise of an oncoming train. 

He continued to run for what felt like a solid five minutes or so, managing to find his way out of the station purely by memory. He only felt the need to stop when he suddenly felt as if his legs were just about to give out, finally collapsing onto a nearby bench. The world was spinning all around him and Akira just wanted it all to stop.

It took a while for him to catch his breath and when he did, the nausea seemed to have worn away as well as the vertigo. He slumped on the bench, head turned up towards the sky.

There were tall buildings everywhere, which were undoubtedly department malls and office buildings. People were bustling everywhere and the city had never felt more alive. Akira vaguely recalls catching a view at a sign post earlier during his feverish run detailing "Shibuya Station Square". Somehow, he had found himself right where he almost needed to be without needing to look for it. 

He sighed deeply and sat up straight, massaging his temple. What was Akechi doing in the station earlier? Well, he supposed it wasn't that strange for the detective to be thereーhe did bump into him there quite often in his past life after all. Maybe even suspiciously so.

As far as Akira knows, he didn't remember meeting Akechi this soon in his previous life before. Even stranger was the fact that he was nearby the moment he was out of the subway train carriage. It couldn't have been just some strange coincidence, could it?

As much as he wanted to keep speculating, Akira gave him the benefit of the doubt. It was a big city, after all, and he supposed it wasn't that strange to bump into someone he knows. Or knew. It was getting kind of hard to get used to matching the past versions of people in his past life from his current one. Especially since he was nothing more but strangers to every single one of them now.

And more importantly, why was this happening to him? How was this even possible? Was this another one of Igor's tricks? Going back in time was truly an impossible feat no matter how much Akira thought about it but then again, the same could be said about the existence of Persona's and Mementos and yet...

He wonders how he's going to act once he meets everyone for the first time—supposedly more reserved, he thinks. Akira feels a little bit sad at the fact that he might not be able to greet them as fondly as he did before because of it. Though, he supposed maybe it was only a matter of time before things played out like it did before.

He quickly checks the time on his phone which reads exactly eight in the morning. If his memory serves him right, this was almost close to the time where the Metaverse Navigator app would be mysteriously downloaded on his phone, courtesy of the elusive Igor. Akira gets up from the bench and walks towards Shibuya Crossing, mindlessly following the crowd.

The crossing was packed with people everywhere as Akira could only barely get by without bumping into someone every few seconds. He gripped the phone tightly as he waited for any sign of the app to appear, careful not to drop it. As soon as he neared the middle of the crossing, he slowed his steps to a halt and waited.

For what felt like ages.

He waited until this point, where he recalled seeing the people's bustling coming to a stop and the red ping of notification would alert his attention to his phone. He was supposed to tap the app with no luck, and look up only to find himself face to face in the distance with a fiery blue aura of his masked persona, Arsene. It was supposed to have been the mark of the beginning of his long and treacherous journey in the life of a Phantom Thief.

Instead, Akira was greeted with the buzzing noise of Tokyo, his phone dead silent in his hand.

Akira spent the rest of his day roaming around Tokyo. He went to all the places nearby that he could directly recall from his memories. It was a strange feeling to walk through the streets of Tokyo with a fresh mind while simultaneously feeling as if he was back home as well. He found that his feet would automatically take him to places he had visited only in memory. Somehow, it was as if he was possessed or sleepwalking awake. 

He visited Shinjuku's Red Light District and passed by a closed Crossroads. 

He went to the church in Kanda, half expecting Hifumi there and only remembered that she played shogi at night. 

He walked around Kichijoji, wondering if the bubbly Kasumi was around and kicked himself when he remembered that she was a transfer student, too, and she wouldn't be here until a few days after him. 

Then, he went back to Shibuya Central Street and passed by Untouchable, sneaking a peek inside at Iwai leisurely flipping a magazine. Akira wonders if he should risk going in and saying hi to him but thinks better of it. Iwai doesn’t know him after all and would only most likely give him the cold shoulder. It’s not like he was in need of any model guns anyway, hobby-wise, or Phantom Thief purposes. 

Nobody had any clue as to who Akira was here and he didn’t know if he would ever quite know them the same now what with his Persona seemingly gone.

Akira trudged the rest of the way to the station and headed for Yongen-Jaya. He couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling as if he had lost something that he would never be able to get back. He knows it’s not completely hopeless though; after all, he knew where everyone was and it was only a matter of time before he got acquainted with Ryuji and Ann.

Who knows? Maybe Igor was delaying giving the app to him and perhaps it would get triggered once he and Ryuji stumbled into Kamoshida’s Castle. It had to come then, right?

By the time he got to Leblanc, it was already seven in the evening and he found that he had already finished his top up on his commuter pass. Sojiro was definitely going to kill him if he asked for any money to refill it but he supposed he wouldn’t really mind if he did. He already died once, why not one more time? Maybe then, he could use it as a wakeup call and realize all of this was just some bad dream and that he never actually died in the first place.

The morbid thought of his death brought back the nauseous feeling from earlier and he quickly shook it off, shuddering slightly.

He hovered in front of Leblanc for a good few minutes, trying to quell his nerves away but failing. Akira sighed and steeled himself before walking in, only to stop in his tracks altogether. An all too familiar brunet was sitting by the countertop, nursing a black mug with what Akira imagined could only contain coffee.

Of course, Akechi was here. 

Akira was starting to rethink giving him the benefit of the doubt earlier and decided that he most definitely was a stalker. Except for the glaring fact that stalkers usually know exactly who they were stalking.

Realistically speaking, Akira had never even met him before in his life now. Which begs the question: why the hell is he here?

As soon as the chime of the bell reached Akechi, he looked up from his drink only to meet Akira's gaze. His expression was one of recognition and something else Akira couldn't quite pinpoint. Relief, almost. But thinking that didn't make much sense, he quickly dismissed the thought and instead, looked away from the elephant in the room and was greeted by a stern-looking Sojiro.

“Hey, you’re the kid aren’t you? Akira, was it?” Sojiro asked, tapping his finger on his crossed arms. “I was wondering when you’d show. I thought you got caught up in another assault or something. Lord knows you don’t need any more convictions to your name.”

Ouch. Akira loved Sojiro but he could be harsh when he needed to be, especially when Sojiro had no clue as to who he was.

“I'm sorry. I got kind of lost,” Akira said lamely. “Big city, country bumpkin. I guess I got overwhelmed looking around.”

“Well I’m glad you had fun playing the tourist but I hope you don’t forget that you’re on probation right now. You’re not exactly in any position to be wandering around freely you know.” 

Akira knows that all too well by now, possibly because nobody would stop reminding him about it every time he so much as spoke. That was the case in his past life and he’d hoped it wouldn’t be the same for now but he supposed that was just wishful thinking.

Sojiro sighed when he noticed Akira had gone silent, seemingly resigned. “I’ll let it pass for today because you just got here. But only for today. Starting tomorrow, I want you back here before the curfew I’m instilling. Any more than that and you’re out, understood?”

“Yes, Bo―er, sir.”

Crap, that was close, he almost got too familiar with him.

Sojiro scratched the back of his head, oblivious to his slipup. “Just call me Sojiro. I appreciate the formality but I just can never get myself used to it.”

“Boss, is he the student you were talking about before?” the elephant in the room asked patiently. 

Oh, so Akechi was on familiar terms with Sojiro now, huh? Nevermind the fact that Sojiro was comfortable enough to talk about him, too, criminal record and all because screw confidentiality. Akira might as well just walk around with a sign taped on his head saying "CRIMINAL". It wouldn't make a difference either way.

“Yeah, he’s the one. He’s going to be living here starting from today,” Sojiro explained before turning to Akira again. “Akira, this is one of my regulars, Goro Akechi. He comes here often so you might see him around a lot. Best to be acquainted now.” 

Perfect, because Akira was definitely looking forward to that.

“I can’t help it, the coffee here is just too good to shy away from. I promise I’ll try my best not to bother you too often,” Akechi beamed, all too proud. “Still, what a strange coincidence. I didn’t think we’d meet again so soon. You were the one who was stumbled over at Shibuya Station, right? I apologize if I scared you then.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Maybe you mistook me for someone else?” Akira said, playing with his bangs a little, mostly to avoid looking at him directly.

He eyed Sojiro who had discreetly excused himself in the kitchen to make a phone call. Probably to report to the probation officer about Akira’s attendance. He tried to telepathically tell him to hurry up and show him to his room already if only to avoid talking to Akechi more but all he got out of it was just his back. 

Damn. If Akira wasn’t going to be given any Persona powers anytime soon, he might as well have settled for telepathy. Too bad Igor’s powers were only centered around Persona’s, he really should’ve expanded his capabilities more.

Akechi chuckled a bit, breaking his concentration on his useless thoughts. “I don’t believe so. I’ll have you know I have quite the good memory. I could never forget someone like you, especially with the unruly hair and all.”

Very funny. So he was already comfortable enough to be poking fun at his appearance. “Well, I’m actually trying to go for the opposite effect so I’m sorry that you can’t forget a nobody like me.”

“That’s ridiculous, you’re far from being a nobody,” Akechi said, his tone serious all of a sudden. Then, realizing what he sounded like, he feigned a cough. “I mean, you are just starting over here, right? That’s something, at least.”

Akira appreciated the sentiment, truly, but he couldn’t bring himself to really believe him. He wished it wasn’t bothering him this badly and yet he can’t help himself. In the span of one moment, his slate was wiped entirely clean and he had reverted back to the beginning of his life, one that seemed to deviate from everything he once remembered.

When Akira didn’t say anything, Akechi continued, albeit a bit hesitant. “But really, are you alright? You didn’t look so good earlier.”

Akira tried to hold back a frustrated sigh. “I already told you, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You two already met before or something?” Sojiro, who was now done with his phone call, decided to join in the conversation.

“Well, I saw him at the station earlier where I found him hunched over and green. He doesn’t think we’ve met but that can’t be right. I don’t usually mistake people.” Akira did his best to avoid the suspicious look Akechi was giving him.

“Huh, is that right?” Sojiro hummed, eyeing Akira a bit, who just wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.

“Yeah, well. Can’t be helped. If it’s not him, then I guess I can’t return this. You know, since it’s definitely not yours,” Akechi said, holding out a familiar black wallet.

Akira widened his eyes, immediately searching his bag for his own wallet only to find it not where it was supposed to be. His pants pockets ended up being empty, too, save for his commuter pass which he smartly decided to keep outside of his wallet out of choice and not because he forgot to put it back or anything. It must've fallen out when he pushed Akechi away or he stole it from him, the latter of which was starting to sound more appealing to him than the former.

Deciding to keep playing dumb, he replied, “That could be anyone's.”

“Alright, if that’s the case, the ID I found in here is for a doppelganger then, one that eerily looks similar to you, right, Akira Kurusu?”

“Okay, maybe I do remember seeing you on the subway earlier,” Akira quickly said, unable to hold back the annoyance in his voice. “Sorry, it’s been a long day for me.”

“Right. Touring Tokyo.” Akechi gives him a knowing look.

Akira scoffs and snatches his wallet from his stalker, checking to make sure that it was truly his. He wasn’t lying; the plain boy on the ID could only belong to him, his hair still shaggy as ever.

“Thanks. Good thing you don’t indulge in identity fraud or something, huh?” Akira said, pocketing the wallet.

“Hm," Akechi paused, taking a sip of his coffee. "I have no need to. I find I’m quite satisfied with myself already as I am.” 

Akira doesn’t know how much of that is actually true and he’s not sure if he even wants to find out. Trying to figure that out would be like opening a can of worms except they weren’t worms at all: they were vicious, tiny snakes.

He decides he's just about had enough of this conversation and turns to Sojiro. “Um, it’s nice to meet you all and everything but is it alright if you can show me upstairs? I probably have a lot of cleaning up to do.”

“Huh, you got that right. It’s like you know what your room is like already or something.” Sojiro said, raising an eyebrow.

Shoot, Akira was too busy trying to get away from Akechi that he forgot about trying to seem clueless. “Just a hunch. Or my third eye. It’s hard to tell these days.”

Akira ignored the fact that Akechi was burning holes through him with his stare.

“You use your third eye for foretelling what your room is going to look like?” Akechi asked.

“Mmmmhm,” Akira hummed slowly, emphasizing the “mm” if only to get him to stop talking to him.

“Well, enough of that. It’s just this way,” Sojiro said, heading for the stairway. “I’ll just be a moment Akechi.”

“Oh actually, if you don’t mind, can I come with you guys? I’ve always been curious as to what’s been upstairs this whole time.”

Yes. He absolutely minds. The elephant stays down here.

“Sure, come along but I'm afraid you’re going to be thoroughly disappointed. There’s no mystery upstairs or anything. It’s just an attic, after all.”

“That’s exciting enough!”

Akira decides he should really hone up on his telepathy skills later.

The attic was just how he remembered it to be except with more dust bunnies and cobwebs than ever. Otherwise, it was his former—or soon to be, he wasn't sure yet—base of operations that was mostly bare-bones at this point. His one stack of box he had from his hometown was sitting on the floor.

He really didn't bring that much save for his minimal wardrobe, some books and a lot of processed food. Unpacking it would be a breeze but cleaning up the room would probably take him the whole evening. Save for his box, the floor was filled with dust and in the corner was two large garbage bags which he hoped still didn't actually contain trash.

Looks like he had his work cut out for him.

"Don't give me that look. I know I haven't cleaned this up in ages but I didn't exactly expect to be housing a criminal anytime soon," Sojiro said. "Or at all, even."

"I was just going to say that it's bigger than my room in my hometown," Akira said, kneeling down to open his box of storage. "I'd give it a solid ten but alas, no door."

"And no heater," Akechi added because he really needed to emphasize how shit his room was.

Unfortunately for him, he actually quite liked his attic room. It was cozy and certainly different from a regular bedroom, just minus the privacy. The point is he had a lot of good memories here, ones he hoped he would be able to get back.  

When he struggled to get the tape ripped off the box, Akechi handed him a box cutter from who knows where, he didn't bother to ask. Akira mumbled a small thanks before proceeding to stab it open.

"Well, feel free to leave if you're going to afford to complain." Akira shook his head vigorously at that which surprisingly earned a small chuckle from Sojiro. "Good. But really, that's all you brought here with you?"

"Yep, the good ol' essentials. This bad boy has everything I need to survive in Tokyo," Akira said, patting his box which replied with a satisfying thump. "I even got that book, Tokyo For Dummies. Everything I need to live crime-free in this city."

"That can't be real," Akechi scoffs because he just loves second-guessing everything Akira does. 

It's true he didn't have a book called as such. Instead, they went with a more generic name along the lines of "A Beginner's Guide to Tokyo", a little something Akira bought from a secondhand bookstore in his hometown. Granted, he had only bought it because he thought it would be helpful in navigating the city, if not for his newly recovered memories.

Sojiro muttered something to Akechi along the lines of "At least he's trying" to which he only nods.

"Alright, if you say so. Honestly, I'm glad I only had to lug one box upstairs. I'd probably have reconsidered letting you live here if you had multiple." Sojiro started massaging his shoulders. "My back can only take so much nowadays."

"Yep, good thing I'm low maintenance," Akira said, nodding absentmindedly.

Sojiro scoffed. "Oh no, you're far from it kid. I'm keeping you under my surveillance to make sure you're not getting into trouble."

"Cool, watch me all you want. I'm going to be the most boring kid on the planet. No tomfoolery here."

Perhaps he was trying a bit too hard now.

The poor old man just sighed. "Geez, you're so witty. It's hard to believe you were actually charged for assault."

Akira kept his mouth shut at that. Akechi only stared at him curiously.

"Anyways, I'll leave you to it then. Tomorrow we're taking a visit to your highschool, Shujin Academy. Make sure to behave yourself until then." He then turns to Akechi. "Well, that's all the attic was. We should probably let him clean up the place."

"Actually, if you don't mind Kurusu, I can help you tidy up. It would be a lot faster with two people right?" Akechi asked, glancing at him.

Why does he keep asking if I mind when he knows I don't even have a choice?

Akira was exhausted from running around Tokyo, being stalked by Akechi and also trying to suppress the overbearing fact hovering around his head that no one remembers him. Frankly, he just needed some time alone right now.

"Um, I'm good actually, thanks. I'm sure you have other stuff to do right now so don't worry about it."

"Hey, he's offering here. Just let him help you. Akechi's kind enough to even bother," Sojiro said, patting Akechi's back.

"Really, it's no trouble. I'm quite free right now and it's not every day a customer helps you out with cleaning your room." Akechi gave him one of his signature tv show smiles. He could almost hear the phantom laughter of the audience somewhere but Akira wasn't laughing.

"Well said. You should take from his example. He's a good kid," Sojiro said, making his way to the stairs. "Who knows, you guys could even become friends? You two already seem to be getting along quickly."

Any signs of getting along was entirely coming from Akechi's part, something Akira was wary about re-experiencing. Besides, he's already seen how the "friends-slash-rivals" thing played out before and that ended with a bullet lodged in his cognitive self's skull.

Of course, Akira didn't blame Akechi at all. He wasn't even angry about it. He supposed he just felt... sad. After all, he underestimated how far Akechi was willing to go just to achieve his goal. When he waited for him in that underground interrogation room, Akira had never wanted to be more wrong in his life. But when he came, he still couldn't help but feel betrayed anyway. If he could just do it all again then perhaps...

"Friends, huh? It's only been a day since we met but you know, I really wouldn't mind that. If it's you," Akechi said, sounding all too eager. "Just a hunch."

"You and your hunches..." Akira mumbled, wishing Akechi could even begin to comprehend the dilemma he was going through right now.

"I'd tell you to do better Akechi but even I know this guy could use some good influence. Keep an eye on him for me in the meantime, alright?"

"You got it, Boss!" 

Sojiro, for the love of god, please don't leave Akechi alone with me just yet, he thought, signalling him with pleading eyes. He wasn't even mentally ready for what could happen. And anything could happen when it comes to Akechi.

The old man didn't notice his signalsーor chose to ignore it, he wasn't sureーand promptly takes his cue to leave, leaving the two teenagers alone in the attic.

They both glance at each other.

Akechi gives him a smile. "Shall we?"

Akira only grunted back. "We shall."

The two got to work with Akira cleaning the wooden shelf beside his bed while Akechi swept the floor. Surprisingly, the two worked in silence, albeit a slightly awkward one. Akira didn't mind. He felt like he wasn't really in the mood of humoring anyone at the moment. And he found that he was actually kind of glad for the help considering how sluggish he felt. He really overestimated how tired he was because now every inch of his body was desperately screaming for a bed. 

At least while he was working on the shelf, his back was turned to Akechi so he didn't have to look at him. Frankly, Akira didn't know what to think of him yet. He didn't exactly have any time to come to terms with his death―after all, it was only just this morning that he was suddenly hit by the morbid realization.

For whatever reason, something compelled him at the time to step in and save him. In fact, he wasn't even really thinking of a plan before he found his feet already moving. Despite experiencing the consequences of his actions, Akira found that he strangely felt that he didn't regret doing it. Hell, he'd probably do it again given the chance but preferably without the dying part.

Akira then came to the conclusion that he would most likely save Akechi again if he could. But why? The strange thought only made him frown.

He supposed he just felt like it was the one thing Akechi needed after everything the detective had gone through. It was just as he said: if only they had met sooner. If only someone had stepped in to help him, then maybe it wouldn't have come to that. Akira found that if no one was going to take the chance then he might as well be the first, and supposedly the last.

So, no, Akira doesn't think he hates Akechi. Far from it, really. But deciphering how he felt about the detective now would probably deplete all of his mental energy so he decided to push it to the back of his mind. He'll have plenty of time to deal with that later.

For now, he had an attic to tidy.

Since Akechi apparently didn't want to leave him alone yet, he left the garbage bags on the staircase and told him they'll take it out last. Akira just grunted again in response. There was only the sound of the broom brushing the floor and the shuffling of books.

The shelf was filled with miscellaneous books and weird knick-knacks. At some point, he sat down on the floor and started sifting through them. He probably spent more time looking through all the books rather than organizing them. Every time he found an interesting one, he'd read through it for a bit before remembering he was supposed to be cleaning. Eventually, the shelf was finally emptied and Akira was left to stare at his hard work.

Looking at the bare wooden shelf, he felt a strange sense of loneliness. In his other life, he remembered keeping all his various presents from his friends and showcasing them here. His room in his hometown was actually pretty bare, too, so having any sort of decoration around made Akira happy. He supposed he could just buy them all back but it wouldn't be the same as having been given one as a gift.

If he doesn't have the Metaverse App, that means this time around he'd have to befriend them all through normal means somehow. Something Akira was not very confident in doing.

Akechi noticed that he had stopped cleaning and stood beside him. "Everything okay? You look a little spaced out."

"Ah yeah, I'm okay…" Akira mumbled to the shelf, a bit dazed. "Just thinking."

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Sorry, I charge 500 yen for that."

"What? Why does it cost so much?" Akechi chuckled.

"It's not that much. It costs more if you want my opinions though." He paused. "It's like podcast long. I have a lot to say about stuff, okay."

"Hm, I'll keep that in mind."

Akira hadn't meant to say much of that but found that he was too nervous to come up with a better excuse, which resulted in nonsense rambling most of the time.

He heard the sound of what he imagined was the broom being set down on the floor before he saw Akechi sitting beside him, shoulders almost touching. Akira was too tired to really care about the close proximity. He was busy pretending to study the shelf while Akechi was not so subtly studying him.

"So…" Akechi started, breaking the silence. "Criminal record, huh?"

Wow, Akechi was great at starting conversations.

"Yep," Akira said, elongating the word so that the 'P' made a popping sound.

"May I ask what happened? I know it's a bit rude but I just―you don't really look like the type to do anything deserving of such."

"Thanks but you know what they always say. It's always the ones you least expect it from." Akira chuckled dryly. He really doubts Sojiro didn't already tell him the whole gist of it judging from their interactions. Akechi just probably wanted to hear it coming from the horse's mouth probably to verify… something, he didn't know what. "Besides, didn't Sojiro already tell you all about me?"

"It was just in passing though. All he really told me was he was taking someone in due to an offense they made. He didn't go into the nitty-gritty of it."

"Huh."

Sojiro sure has a weird way of respecting privacy. He has no problems reminding Akira that he was a criminal every few seconds but he won't bother telling people about the supposed crime he's done.

"Well, I mean, I don't really know what you want to hear. It's not all that interesting," Akira sighed.

"It's not about it being interesting," Akechi said, shaking his head. "I think you've probably had it rough handling it all by yourself and I want you to know that whatever you tell me, I will take it as the truth and nothing but that. I'll believe you."

That was, quite frankly, awfully nice of Akechi to say. It was almost uncharacteristic of him that he had to double-check that he was indeed talking to the Goro Akechi, Charismatic Ace Detective, and Mental Shutdown Killer Extraordinaire. Akira doesn't think he's ever remembered Akechi ever doing anything remotely… intimate, to say the least.

Come to think of it, why was he being so nice anyway? As far as Akira recalled, Akechi hated his guts, so much so that they were pretty much-sworn rivals. They still had that unfinished duel they promised to each other in his past life, which he'll probably never be able to continue. Thinking about the Akechi he left behind in his memory made Akira's chest hurt for some reason.

The more he thought about it, the more he remembered that this was technically a different Akechi from what he remembered. Of course, he couldn't have hated him yet, they've only just met. Besides, wasn't one of the reasons why he hated him was because he had things he didn't have? Friends, strength, and the willpower to keep going―Akechi said it himself that Akira was somehow more special than he would ever be. Well with the way he was starting over right now, couldn't it have been more accurate to say that they were equals?

Not that Akechi would admit as much anyway.

"Ah, um, thanks, I guess..." Akira mumbled, barely audible enough for Akechi to hear. He took off his glasses to wipe them with the hem of his shirt, mostly just to keep himself occupied as well as avoiding his gaze. "It's as Sojiro said, an assault. I was going home from my part-time job when I witnessed a man forcefully taking a woman to his car. I tried to separate them but somehow the guy fell on his own, enough for him to bleed. Then, he just lost it and filed a lawsuit on me. And of course, my school wouldn't have that so they kicked me out. And now I'm here. So yeah."

"That's unforgivable! You didn't even lay a hand on him but you were still somehow wrongfully convicted? Since when was saving someone from harassment a crime?" Akechi said angrily, shaking his head in disbelief. "And what of the woman, the supposed victim?"

"She told the court she saw me push him and that pretty much sealed the deal. I figured he probably bought her silence or something." Akira put his glasses back on and started tapping his finger on his leg. "I don't blame her. The guy must've been pretty influential to pull something like this. She would've been just as ruined if she spoke out for me."

"I don't care for someone who would rather save their own hide than taking the risk to save someone else," Akechi said quietly, looking at Akira straight in the eye.

Despite the conviction he had in his tone, he could see Akechi had a genuine look of worry on his face. He had his hands folded together on his lap and was sort of half twiddling with his fingers, possibly due to nervousness. Akira had never remembered seeing him like this before in his past life. He couldn't recall anything in his past memories of Akechi expressing sincere concern towards him of all people. After all, it was mostly banter and camaraderieーif he was even allowed to call it thatーbetween them. 

Up until the engine room in Shido's Palace, he could only somewhat get a grasp on who Akechi truly was. He knew underneath all the false smiles and false pretenses was something Akechi didn't want anyone to see, something he was forced to unleash that day in the palace. When Akechi explained that everything he had done was built up for his revenge plot against his father, Masayoshi Shido, Akira immediately understood.

And so, rather than feeling betrayed, he sympathized with him and a strong feeling of regret sprouted somewhere in his heart. Regret for not doing more to be there for him. Regret in overlooking Akechi's unbridled rage.

When Akechi was shouting about how unfair it all was, Akira couldn't help but notice the clear divide between them, the Phantom Thieves behind his back with Akechi across from them, all alone. Had their circumstances been flipped, Akira could've easily been in Akechi's position as Akechi was to his.

It was unfair. 

But Akira desperately wanted to believe it wasn't too late for him. Perhaps that very thought was what prompted him to step in front of him as he did, and unknowingly take a bullet for him. He wondered what the look on Akechi's face was when it all happened. Was it the same one he had on right at this moment? Akira doesn't think he'll ever know the answer to that.

Still, if this were the old Akechi, he'd have said something along the lines of it was naive of him to do as he did. That it was better to save yourself rather than depend on something like trust or friendship. So what in the world happened to lead Akechi to say something like this now? And did he really mean the words he was saying?

After a minute of silence, Akira finally gave him a smile, the most genuine one he could muster all day. "Thanks. Really."

Akechi stared at him for a long while, searching his face for something Akira wasn't sure of before he eventually looked away. "It's fine. I only said what I thought."

"Well, now you know, I suppose," Akira said, moving to get up, dusting off his pants.

He knows that he wasn't exactly new to conversations such as these in his other life but this was the first time he's ever sat down like this with someone as he is now. Come to think of it, Akira recalls never having actually told Akechi about his probation situation before in his other life either. He was kind of glad the detective was taking it well now. Perhaps too well, even. But he didn't really want him to know that; they were still technically strangers, after all.

Akechi looked like he was about to say something more before Sojiro's voice bellowed from the stairs. "Hey, boys, dinner's ready. Come ea―oh, what're these bags doing here? It's blocking the stairs."

"It's my makeshift door. What do you think?" Akira said, quickly grabbing the two hefty bags. "Because I think it's working pretty well."

"Yeah, well, make it stop working. It's a fire hazard," he said, sighing a bit. "Those are just some old supplies I never got around to throwing out. Don't forget to sort them instead of chucking it all away."

"You got it, Boss," Akira grunted as he walked down the steps. From the bottom of the stairs, he saw Sojiro raise an eyebrow at him wordlessly.

"Wait, hold on! Let me help you with that," Akechi exclaimed from behind him prompting Akira to walk down the steps faster.

"I got it, I'm a strong boy," he huffed, walking across the cafe and quickly shuffling out of Leblanc, not before struggling to fit himself and two bags out the door. "Start eating without me!"

Behind him, he could hear a sigh of frustration, most likely from Sojiro. "Go help him out. I don't think he even knows where the disposal bins are."

Once outside, he lowered the bags of trash momentarily to catch his breath before quickly raising them again when he sees Akechi out the door, too.

"Stop being stubborn and let me help. Give me one of the bags."

"No."

Akira was practically waddling down the street with two bags of garbage as if he was Santa Claus, except if he was much younger, and instead of presents he gave out trash.

"Kurusu, stop. You look ridiculous right now." Akechi said, trying to tug one of the bags off his shoulder.

"Ho, ho―fuck. Okay fine, take one."

He dropped the bag that Akechi was pulling, only because it was actually hurting his back. So much for being young and healthy. He wonders how he was ever able to do backflips in the palaces in his other life because he certainly can't do them now.

Now, there were two people waddling down the street with garbage bags. Akechi was leading in front with Akira lagging behind. In truth, Akira knew exactly where the garbage bins were but in order to feign ignorance, he let him lead the way.

"We look like two poorly disguised robbers that just finished a heist," Akira commented, huffing between breaths.

"If that's the case, we're probably the slowest thieves in history," Akechi said who sounded like he was also having a hard time carrying his baggage.

Akira felt a little satisfied watching the detective struggle in front of him and couldn't contain the small smile planted on his face. "Hey, you know, that could be a great idea for a garbage company. 'We steal your trash so others don't have to!' It could even work for an actual thief business." 

"That sounds corny."

"Only to you. Clearly because you can't appreciate my brilliant ideas." Akira discreetly made a face at him from behind. "Honestly though, all we're missing is the flashy costumes and grappling hook and we'd be good for business. How about it, want to be partners in crime?"

"Hmmmmm," Akechi hummed, with one too many mmm's to emphasize his annoying deliberation. "That does sound fun, but perhaps another time. Incarceration isn't exactly an ideal pastime for me right now. I have an image to uphold, after all."

"Oh, I'm sure you do..." Akira muttered to himself.

"That took you two long enough. The curry is probably cold by now," Sojiro greeted them, his hand resting on his hip in a signature Sojiro pose.

"It's not my fault you have a lot of priceless junk." Akira took out an old board game from his garbage bag, which is still carrying some of the said junk. "You were just going to throw this away? This is like gold!"

"It's because I've outgrown that sort of thing but feel free to keep it if you want," he sighed. "Wait, is that why it took you so long?"

"He wanted to comment on each trash we were sorting and decide whether he wanted to keep it or not," Akechi the snitch explained.

"You didn't have to tell him." Akira shot him a glare to which he only shrugged. "Come to think of it, aren't you overstaying your welcome? It's like you practically live here."

"Hey, don't be rude. Akechi can stay as long as he wants. And besides, we're not closed yet."

"Ugh, please close it already," Akira muttered as he slumped down by the countertop. "Well, at least it smells good."

"It better. It's our cafe specialty," Sojiro grinned with a smug look on his face. "Akechi, you eat up, too. It's on the house for helping this idiot."

"I could've done it without him you know," Akira said, giving Akechi the stink eye.

He only smiled at him, seemingly amused. "You're very welcome."

Akira sighed. He felt like he was going to lose all of his energy trying to get Akechi off his back.

Well, at least the food was as good as Akira remembered it to be. Better, even. As soon as he took the first bite, Akira began wolfing down the meal at a rapid pace.

"Woah, slow down boy. The food's not going anywhere," Sojiro said.

With everything he's done today, he completely forgot that he never had anything to eat for the majority of it. Only now when he had a good plate of curry in front of him did he remember his hunger. Akira felt like he could eat a bucket of Sojiro's curry. He knew Akechi was most likely staring at him with an incredulous look but he ignored it.

"Sorry―this is just―really good," Akira said between bites before promptly choking on his food. He immediately reached for his water which he tried to drink hurriedly, spilling some on his shirt.

"Can't you do one thing normally without giving me a headache?" Sojiro sighed, for what seemed like the hundredth time today, before grabbing some napkins and handing it to Akira.

"God, you're a mess. I know the curry is delicious but please don't kill yourself with it." Akechi was now patting Akira's back in an attempt to make him feel better. He tensed up to the touch, immediately forgetting his near-death experience.

When Akira finally gulped his water down with no coughing fit, he looked at Akechi, albeit a bit warily. "That's actually an indicator of good curry."

"Really? Choking on curry?" Akechi asked incredulously, the skeptic that he is.

"Not just any curry. Good curry."

That was important. Akechi only rolled his eyes at him and retreated his hand. Guess he didn't even have any good comebacks: one for Akira, zero for Akechi.

Sojiro sighed. "Well, I appreciate you enjoying my food―maybe too much even―but I'd prefer if you don't die while eating here. It's bad rep for my business."

"It's not my fault you made it so good," Akira mumbled, shoveling more curry in his mouth at a slower pace.

In truth, he really did love Sojiro's curry. It was like home to him. Akira had never had the luxury of having homemade meals before and this was the closest he could get to one. Only now when he had slowed down to eat could he properly appreciate the food. He'd be lying if eating his curry didn't almost make him want to cry. The only thing stopping him was remembering the fact that a certain detective was seated not even one foot away from him. And Akira would rather die (again) than let him witness him crying.

"Your curry is as delicious as always, Boss," Akechi commented, giving Sojiro a sweet smile.

Akira resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Thank you, Akechi," Sojiro said, smiling at him.

"Showoff," Akira muttered to himself and quickly finished his food. He took his plate to the sink and began washing it, knowing Sojiro liked it when he cleaned up after.

"Huh, at least you know your manners. What do you know?" Sojiro hummed in approval.

"Yeah, but he ate like a horse," Akechi said but Akira only ignored him by turning the tap water louder. It backfired though because some of it splashed him, soaking his shirt. "Um, your shirt is wet."

"I meant for that to happen." Akira finished washing up, turning around somewhat gracefully, and gave them a smile. "Well, thank you for dinner Boss. It was great. I'll try to finish cleaning my room by the end of today."

"Oh right, I'll help you sweep. I was almost done. Just give me a sec."

Oh for the love of―why is Akechi being so irritating and yet helpful at the same time?

"You really don't have to," Akira said through gritted teeth, rushing upstairs to beat Akechi to it. He could hear the clatter of the plate in the sink and the sound of the tap turning on.

Akira quickly got to work and started dusting the cobwebs all over, coughing because he forgot to wear a mask for that. By the time he was done, he heard Akechi coming up the steps.

"I think this place is really starting to come to."

"Mhm," Akira said, not even bothering to look at him.

Akechi picked up the broom he had placed on the floor earlier and began sweeping in silence. Akira unsheathed the tarp covering the work desk and began wiping it down neatly. After that, the only thing left to do was change the bedsheets and pillows and his room would basically be livable. As he began to remove the old pillowcase, he snuck a quick peek at Akechi. He was looking the other way and was busy sweeping the floor.

It was strange, he really looked just as he remembered. His hair was still long, his height, everything; just as charming as ever. God, he really was here, wasn't he? The realization seemed to have only hit him just now and he couldn't help his smile at the thought of it.

… Except for the glaring fact that Akechi didn't have any gloves on. Akira had somehow overlooked it the entire day because he was too busy feeling guilty and running away from the detective. He doesn't think he's ever seen the boy's bare hands before, as weird as it sounds. They were quite normal, just a regular pair of hands. It was hard to believe those very hands could belong to someone capable of murder. Instead, those hands were now helping Akira sweep his floor.

The more he looked at them, the more his chest tightened and the more bizarre everything felt. If Akechi was really different here, could it be that the gloves had come off as a result of that change? Who was he really looking at right now anyway?

Akechi had caught him staring and gave him a smile, startling Akira out of his thoughts. "Did something catch your eye?"

"Not really." Akira said, looking away. "Just... your hands, I guess. I thought they looked nice for some reason.

"My hands? Why?" Akechi asked softly, which resonated with something in his chest.

"That's 1000 yen for an explanation."

"Oh, good thing I carry cash on―"

"Oops, did I say yen? Sorry, I actually only accept Canadian currency." Akira quickly sheathed a new pillowcase on. Out of all the things he could have commented on, he had to choose his hands. There was no doubt Akechi probably thought of him as a pervert among other things.

"That's just utterly ridiculous, you know." Akechi made a scoff of dissatisfaction but diligently continued with his work.

Akira hoped that Akechi wouldn't be able to hear how loud his heartbeat was from where he was standing. Why did he tell him about his hands? And why did he feel weirdly relieved to see them gloveless?

Snap out of it, Akira. Seriously, they're just gloves. What's wrong with me?

Then, a memory occurs to Akira. It was the day where he fought Akechi in Mementos where he proposed they have a one-on-one fight. Akira had fought as hard as he could, knowing Akechi wouldn't forgive him for going easy on him. At the same time, he feared hurting him. In the end, Akira was triumphant but it was a close battle. He remembered the way Akechi looked at him then, his breath panting, barely standing on his feet, a look of frustration on his pretty face.

At the same time, Akira thought he saw a hint of enjoyment mixed in.

It was the first time he had ever seen the detective fully in his element, his mask half fallen off to see just a sliver of what he was really like. Akira remembered wanting more of it, hoping to see another glimpse of that side of Akechi. And so, before parting ways, a single glove was thrown his way, a sign of a promised rematch. Akira looks at Akechi in front of him and wonders if that duel is now forever lost between the two.

All of a sudden, Akira felt a wave of sadness. He decided to get up and walk downstairs, hurriedly maneuvering around the detective.

"Where are you going?" Akechi called out.

"Washroom. I think I'm done for today," Akira said, skipping down the steps. At this point, he was so paranoid that he felt that Akechi might even follow him there.

He quickly locked himself inside the restroom and sat on the toilet seat, his head in his hands. Akira wanted a moment to calm down and gather his senses.

This was Akechi we're talking about; there's probably a perfectly good explanation for why he's not wearing them. But he couldn't think of any, and if he tried to ask him, Akechi would probably be just as confused as he was. 

Maybe Akechi never even wore gloves here in the first place? Regardless of the reason, Akira couldn't help but feel a deep loneliness from seeing those gloveless hands. There was a reason why he threw that glove to him. It was a promise, something to hold on to, something that was of Akechi's. He always felt like Akechi was the kind of person who he could never fully grasp, someone who could just disappear without a moment's notice. The glove was a reminder that he was here now, that he wouldn't disappear because they had promised something to each other.

Ever since that day, he had kept it in his pocket mostly out of forgetfulness but found that it was a good spot for it anyway. It was a reminder of what he shouldn't forget, of something he dearly looked forward to doing with Akechi… And now it was gone. That memory doesn't exist here anymore and it probably never will. Now, his pocket felt a lot more empty than it should've.

This wasn't the only reason why he's freaking out; everything was just so different. Somehow, the detective was a lot softer and more caring than he remembered him to be. Sure, he was still teasing him despite only being their first meeting but Akira felt like there was no underlying malice behind them.

Akira shook his head to dismiss the thoughts and sighed deeply. This day was just making him go crazy the longer it went. Perhaps he was just overthinking everything and the gloves never meant anything at all in the first place. Maybe Akechi hadn't really even changed and this was just due to his wishful thinking causing him to hope.

Hope for what exactly? Akira frowned.

He shook his head again. The exhaustion of the day was starting to overtake to him and all he really wanted to do was to just sleep. Akira got up, flushed the toilet, and washed his hands. When he got out of the restroom, Sojiro and Akechi were outside talking softly, no doubt about Akira. They turned to him as soon as he closed the door.

"Hey, Boss, do you mind if I turn in for the night?" Akira asked.

"Sure, but before that, can you walk Akechi to the station?" Sojiro said.

"What? Why? He can get there himself." Akira glanced at Akechi who just smiled at him, innocently.

"Well, he insists. And it's the polite thing to do after he helped you out today."

"It won't be too long. You can go to bed after this," Akechi added, unhelpfully.

Akira just glared at him before sighing in resignation. There was no point in arguing with Sojiro now, especially if he wanted to be on his good side. So far, he's not really sure how he's doing with that.

"Alright, sure. It's the least I can do, I guess."

"Thank you very much," the detective replied.

You're very not welcome, Akira thought, sulkily.

"Make sure to come back straight after. I still need to lock up the place." Sojiro reminded him. Akira gave him a lazy thumbs up on the way out.

Akira followed Akechi out the door and into the backstreets. They started walking at a much slower pace than he'd like and in complete silence, too. That was fine by him, he had more time to sort out his thoughts. God knows he was doing a lot of that today.

It was strange, Akira didn't expect to spend his first day in Tokyo with Akechi. He thought he would be the last person he'd ever see here. He thought about how sore his feet felt and how full he was and how he felt like there was now a glaring huge hole in the middle of his chest. Akira checked it just to make sure; nope, no hole...

He sighed and stretched his arms in front of him, cracking a few bones.

"So…" Akechi started, breaking the silence. "What do you think of Tokyo so far? I know you only just got here, but you know, I am quite curious."

How does Akira tell him that it's exactly as he remembered and yet so very different? As if he was coming home again but as a ghost, a stranger to all he loved dearly. How could Akira even begin to tell him how guilty he feels for being here, leaving his team behind from who knows where, all because he sacrificed his life for the same man walking beside him? How does he tell him that he just wants to go home―not to his hometown, nor Leblanc―but back to a time where he actually felt like he belonged for once?

"It's different," Akira simply said, because it was the truth.

"Yes, I imagine it'll take some getting used to. People who live in the countryside often feel overwhelmed when coming to Tokyo for the first time." Akechi chuckled softly.

"They got that right," Akira said under his breath.

Oh, Akira was overwhelmed alright, but for different reasons. This was more than a simple cultural shock, after all.

"In any case, is it alright if we exchange phone numbers?" Akechi asked, showing Akira his smartphone. "I imagine we'll be seeing each other more often since I frequent Leblanc but if you want, I can help you adjust here. It'd be my pleasure."

"Uh…" Akira trailed off, his eyes darting at the station nearing them. "Oh look, we're here. You don't wanna miss your train, do you?"

"Um, yes but―"

"Can't talk, gotta run! I might make Boss mad again if I take too long." Akira turns around and gets a head start, running away from Akechi. "Thanks for today and get home safely."

"I'll see you tomorrow then!" Akechi yelled back.

God, I really hope not, Akira thought as he ran through the backstreets back to Leblanc. Akira hoped that by the time he jumped back to bed and closed his eyes to sleep, he would wake up the next morning with everything as it should be, whatever that was really supposed to be.