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Akechi Goro does not have a grave. He doesn’t have one because he isn’t dead.
And Amamiya Ren couldn’t find any family graves. He knew that Akechi wasn’t his real family name. He never did figure out the real one though. Not for lack of trying.
That’s okay though. Because Akechi Goro is not dead. He’s somewhere out there, hand hovering mid air, waiting to continue their game. There’s an empty cage laying on its side, the door left open. Akechi Goro is somewhere, having abandoned his constraints.
Ren just needs to find him.
— Two Years Later —
“Welcome back, Ren,” Naomi has worked at the flower shop closest to Ren’s new Tokyo apartment for approximately one year. She has seen him purchase the same bouquet on the third of every month for approximately one year.
Forget-me-nots, blue roses, some white lilies. Simple.
He doesn’t know if Akechi likes flowers.
“Thank you Naomi,” Ren says, flashing a soft smile as the bouquet is handed over. “How’s your mother doing?” He asks conversationally. The conversation is just another layer of static. It’s just what Ren does. Talks, hits the right conversational beats at the right moments, feel a tiny kernel of accomplishment at the smile he earns on the way out.
Morgana winds around his legs, trotting beside him rather than in the mona-bag, as Ren had dubbed it a few years ago. “She’s nice,” He meows up at him. “Yup.” Ren replies. He knows where this is going.
“Maybe you could go out-”
“Nah.”
“Mm..”
For some reason, Morgana has been insistently pushing Ren to look for dates. He isn’t really interested. He thinks maybe Morgana just wants a pretty girl to come over and pet him, but that’s neither here nor there.
Ren walks at a brisk pace. It had taken him a while to decide a spot for this, for this…Whatever it is.
It isn’t a grave, because Akechi Goro is not dead. It’s something else.
Initially it’d just been in his studio apartment, but that felt too personal. Akechi was never his.
The whole world must be mourning the space where he once stood.
So now it’s down a winding path in Inokashira park, a path not many people walk down, but that is never completely avoided. Inokashira hadn’t been the original plan, him and Akechi had never come here together. He wasn’t sure Akechi would’ve liked to. But it’s close to Kichijoji. And the nature is nice. Plus he saw two crows fighting here once. It gave him a small chuckle.
At the end of the path lies a small stack of stones. A makeshift incense holder, and a pile of dead flowers from the prior month. It’s cold out this month. February. The flowers are wilted despite the moisture in the air, petals scattered by wind, maybe small animals.
Morgana doesn’t follow him, always slinks off, saying he’s going for a walk. Ren thinks he’s probably chasing birds. Or maybe he’s just trying to give him space.
Kneeling in front of the stones, Ren brushes the petals aside, sets down his bag. Pulls the new bouquet out, a stick of incense, a lighter. A thermos of coffee.
It’s routine now. The whole thing. The first few times it felt alien. He hadn’t experienced much loss in his life, not like this. Not Akechi. Now though, it’s familiar. An ache he carries with him everywhere. He lets the ache consume him here, sitting with two travel mugs out, pouring coffee out of the thermos. One mug rests in front of himself, the other beside the now lit incense.
“Hey.” He murmurs. There’s a small ant climbing up the side of the bouquet already. He just set it down. “‘Crush them like ants’. I think you said that during battle a few times.” He says, voice quiet. “Did you make a habit of that? Crushing ants?” He laughs at himself then. “Stupid question, I know.”
Silence stretches. The ache gnaws at his bones.
“I just kind of don't see you killing bugs.” He can see the incredulous look on Akechi’s face. Really? I shot you, Amamiya. I killed a lot of people. You think I couldn’t squash a fly or two?
“You only ever killed because you felt like you had to.” Tch, dont be stupid. “Not stupid.” Is that the best argument you can muster?
“No.” It isn’t but he really shouldn’t be arguing with his imagination in the first place.
There’s noise in the distance, a light breeze brushes through the leaves. Ren’s heart aches horribly. He shoves a hand in his pocket, brushes his thumb over rough leather.
“I still have your glove. I know I say that every time, but I’m just reminding you.” A pause, sipping his coffee slowly. “You’d be a pretty shitty rival if you never fulfill your end of the deal.”
The wind blows incense smoke in his face. He laughs quietly, taking that as Akechi’s retaliation.
Except, that doesn’t make sense, because that would mean Akechi is a spirit of some sort. Unless Akechi had some supernatural smoke bending abilities he’d managed to miss.
He picks at the dirt.
“Futaba hasn’t been able to find any trace of you online,” He traces a cross in the dirt, smiles lopsidedly at the idea of Akechi in heaven. He’d strangle an angel. It’d be kind of hot. “I think she’s starting to get mad at me for asking.”
Akechi in heaven. He traces the cross a few more times.
He has tried not to believe in Catholicism, if only to separate himself from his parents.
But it isn’t such a bad idea, an afterlife where he can be happy, where Akechi’s happy. And free.
Or maybe not. Would it be like Maruki’s reality? Constricting and off-kilter.
He sighs, swipes his finger over the shapes, obscured and desecrated.
“I love you, Goro.”
The incense blows out completely with the next gust of wind. The steam no longer rises from the coffee cup. Something is eating the delicate petals of the lilies.
Akechi Goro is dead.