Chapter Text
Akechi’s phone was too quiet.
It shouldn’t bother him; the constant buzzing of the messages from the Phantom Thieves group chat had become quite the nuisance lately, to the point where even Sae had taken to glaring at him whenever it disturbed her work.
It wasn’t that long ago he could have imagined her smiling at his phone rattling itself off his desk. She would have made some unnecessary remark about him finally making friends or something stupid like that.
He didn’t miss that, he told himself. It almost sounded convincing in his head.
The Thieves were silent today. It was a rest day before they headed straight for the Treasure, so no scheduling random milk runs in Mementos. And if the group really felt the need to talk outside of official matters, Akechi had no doubt that they had a separate group chat that excluded him.
Besides, it wasn’t like he had any desire to return to Mementos with them anytime soon. Not after last time.
That whole whatever-it-was with Amamiya had been stupid and impulsive and meant absolutely nothing. Just a way to get him to stop talking, to give in a little so he wouldn’t keep asking.
So it would be really great if he could stop thinking about it.
Immediately, if possible.
Stubbornly, the memory continued to replay in his head. Even his own brain lived to spite him, apparently.
He really didn’t need to keep thinking about Ren somehow still looking so effortlessly attractive, confused and desperate as he was then, the rat’s nest he called hair even more of a mess from Akechi’s hand tangling in it and his sleek Joker attire wrinkled and twisted tightly against his figure from them frantically grappling at each other. And he especially didn’t need to think about the way he looked at Akechi, his eyes full of an emotion he dare not name.
Because it didn’t exist. It couldn’t exist. At least not for him, and he wasn’t about to start deluding himself about that now.
The paperwork strewn out in front of him had long since blurred itself into meaninglessness, and he groaned quietly to himself as he pressed his hands against his too-warm face. The gloves did little to cool his skin.
His phone buzzed, and he refused to admit to himself that he flinched. It wasn’t the group chat, or ten other notifications would have flown in at the same time. It was likely Shido, probably checking up on how the plan was going for the millionth time, as though Akechi had ever failed him before now, the paranoid bastard. He ought to answer right away, then, or he would only get angrier, and an angry Shido was actively counterproductive to his goal, at the moment.
His hand hovered above his phone. But what if it wasn’t Shido?
He hadn’t heard anything from Amamiya ever since their most recent Mementos encounter, and while the break from the flood of cat photos and the occasional half-joking pickup lines and utterly inane conversations at three in the morning were quite welcome, he found that the radio silence set him more on edge than usual. It shouldn’t concern Akechi that Amamiya had, for once, chosen to be smart and avoid him; it wasn’t like he was attached to him or anything.
Alright, even he had to admit he couldn’t lie to himself that badly. He’d been the one practically begging Amamiya to pull through everything that was about to happen, after all.
Of course, maybe he’d just been playing some game with Akechi’s head there, trying to get him to confess to everything. He hadn’t; Akechi was smarter than that, but maybe it had still been enough. Maybe it finally convinced him to hate Akechi.
Akechi hated how that thought made him sick to his stomach.
No, that likely wasn’t why Amamiya had gone dark. It was probably some other mundane reason as stupid as he was. Possibly something as simple as embarrassment, or perhaps even regret? Looking back on the experience, Akechi couldn’t think of it as necessarily unpleasant, but he had rushed into it somewhat, and it wasn’t like he bothered to ask afterward if-
Akechi decided to stop that train of thought right there. He was not going to dwell on that like some simple, hormonal teenager. Whether or not Amamiya chose to message him finally was something he would just have to deal with.
His phone buzzed insistently again with the same message. Finally, Akechi swallowed his reservations and picked it up, but it wasn’t Amamiya or Shido. It was Takamaki.
TAKAMAKI: Wanna go get ice cream?
What followed the message was an utterly obscene amount of emojis. Akechi rolled his eyes.
AKECHI: I’m quite busy today. My apologies.
TAKAMAKI: Are you sure? My treat! I promise we won’t be long.
AKECHI: May I ask why?
It wasn’t like any of the Thieves actually liked him or even had anything in common with him, so it was completely baffling why Takamaki, of all people, had any interest in hanging out with him. There had to be an ulterior motive.
TAKAMAKI: I kinda wanna talk. You know, about Ren.
And there it was. Feeling his face heating up again, Akechi furiously tapped out his reply.
AKECHI: I’m afraid that’s none of your business.
Two things happened at once. One: Takamaki sent a giant pouting emoji that managed to take up most of his screen. And two: he received a message from an unknown, blocked contact.
ALIBABA: Meet with Panther or I leak your entire browsing history of shitty Featherman erotic fanfiction to your food blog.
Akechi sat ramrod straight in his chair and couldn’t help but glance around him, as if anyone sitting at their desks nearby were at all interested in or capable of reading his messages over his shoulder. And then there was the fact that not only had this “Alibaba” accessed his chat logs, but also his rather unfortunate internet history.
AKECHI: Who is this?
[message failed to send]
He forced himself to breathe evenly. If he had been hacked, that was extremely bad news for Shido’s conspiracy, and even worse, his own plans and even his popularity. He read back over the message and noticed something he’d glossed over initially. Alibaba had referred to Takamaki as Panther, meaning that either the Phantom Thieves had an even worse problem with security than he’d thought, or somehow Alibaba was already involved with them. The possibility was likely; Amamiya had no shortage of friends and acquaintances that might have the skills necessary for something like this.
He angrily opened his chat to Amamiya.
AKECHI: Why am I being harrassed by an ‘Alibaba,’ and why do I get the sneaking suspicion they have something to do with you?
It occurred to him only after he had sent the message that it was probably terrible etiquette to reach out first about something that was completely unrelated to what they had yet to talk about. He hardly had time to worry about that before Amamiya replied.
AMAMIYA: Shit. Hang on.
Well, that answered exactly none of his questions. All that was left for him to do was wait, impatiently tapping his finger against the pile of forms that he doubted were going to be filled out that day, at this rate. Between that and the messages on his phone, Sae was definitely glaring at him from across the room now.
He absolutely did not jump in his seat when Amamiya finally got back to him.
AMAMIYA: Ok. I talked to them. They’ll back off.
AMAMIYA: But do you really ship Gray Pigeon with -
Akechi slammed his phone face-down on his desk before he even finished reading the text. Now the rest of the room was staring at him. Might as well leave, then, since he wasn’t getting any work done. He typed out a quick message to Takamaki as he shuffled papers into his briefcase.
AKECHI: I suppose I could use a break.
Whatever Takamaki did on her end caused confetti to rain down his screen.
TAKAMAKI: Yay! Meet me at Inokashira Park.
Akechi arrived at the agreed-upon park bench exactly five minutes before their intended meet-up time. Takamaki ended up being fifteen minutes late.
“Hey!” she called, barreling down the park trail towards him, an ice cream cone in each hand. “Sorry I’m late! I know you don’t like sweets that much, so I had a bit of trouble picking out a flavor for you. I hope vanilla’s okay.”
Akechi took the cone she offered him. “That’s very considerate of you,” he told her, dusting off his sweetest smile reserved for public appearances, “but you could have simply asked which I preferred.”
Takamaki chuckled nervously. “Yeah, that would have been the smart thing to do, huh? Truth be told, I didn’t want to bother you more than I already had. It was kind of a surprise that you agreed to meet with me at all.”
The two of them sat down on the bench. “I wasn’t planning to, initially, but I wasn’t given much of a choice.” At Takamaki’s befuddled stare, he elaborated, “Someone calling themselves ‘Alibaba’ contacted me and threatened me with blackmail if I refused.”
“Must have been pretty bad if it’s something she hasn’t already told us,” Takamaki mused, biting at a piece of chocolate in her scoop of ice cream, “or embarrassing.”
“‘She?’ So you’re well-acquainted with her, then. Or the Thieves are, at least,” Akechi speculated on Takamaki’s slip of the tongue.
“You could say that.”
“Then, am I correct in assuming she’s been monitoring my device for some time now and reporting back to you?”
Takamaki lowered her ice cream, her expression falling immediately. “Yeah.” Quickly, she tried to recover and reassure him with a smile. “But don’t take it personally! She does it to everyone.”
“That wasn’t my concern.”
“I know.”
Akechi decided to let the act drop. What did it matter now, when keeping up appearances around any of the Thieves had apparently been a lost cause from the beginning. “I must say, then, it’s pretty bold of you to insist on meeting with me alone.”
“You don’t scare me, Akechi,” Takamaki stated firmly. “Besides, you wouldn’t do anything as stupid as killing me right now, in public. Not when it might interfere with whatever ‘grand plan’ you’ve got going.”
“I suppose that’s fair, but you’re still revealing your hand a bit early, don’t you think?”
Takamaki snorted. “Please. It’s not like you and Ren haven’t been talking your way around it for the past several weeks, and sorry, but I won’t pretend to be smart enough or patient enough to deal with whatever 4-D mental chess game you guys are playing. You’ve known for a while now that we at least had suspicions about you from the get-go, yeah?”
“That would be correct,” Akechi conceded, grinding his teeth.
“One more thing: I’m not actually alone, even if you did think of trying something. Alibaba’s tapped into everything and will send in backup if something should happen to me.”
Akechi’s phone vibrated in his pocket, and Takamaki nodded towards him, indicating he should check it.
ALIBABA: “tHaT wOuLd Be CoRrEcT”
Akechi scowled at the message. So it would appear that not only could Alibaba view browser and chat history, she could listen in on live conversations, likely through the phone’s speaker. Well, wasn’t that just great.
Takamaki bared her teeth in an uncharacteristically predatory smile. “But please, don’t let that keep you from speaking freely. After all, I invited you here to pick your brain about Ren.”
Akechi mentally swore to himself not to ever underestimate Ann Takamaki again, and then filed that away for later.
“I doubt I can be of much help on that subject. You’re his friend, aren’t you? Surely, there’s nothing I can offer up that you wouldn’t already know,” Akechi sneered.
“Not true, and not exactly what I meant,” Takamaki said, angling her cone around to catch some of the melting ice cream. Akechi did the same, not wanting to have to clean it off his gloves later. “I was hoping more to figure out what your opinion of him is, I guess.”
“He’s a powerful fighter, to be sure, and there’s no question as to why he’s the leader, but he’s obnoxiously full of himself, too smart for his own good, and an absolute menace to society.”
“Feelings, Akechi. I meant how you feel about him,” Takamaki groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation.
“Did I not just make that abundantly clear?”
“You two really are hopeless.”
“Which is none of your business,” Akechi reiterated.
“Considering that this is my friend’s life you’re messing with, uh, yeah, I believe it is.” She paused to take a bite. “Also, I literally walked in on you guys going at it in Mementos the other day, so it’s not like you could say anything more embarrassingly personal than that, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Akechi choked on his ice cream, which was extraordinarily embarrassing since it was simple vanilla with no other toppings to catch in his throat once it had melted, but even so, he kept coughing long enough that Takamaki started to look concerned. “We weren’t,” Akechi tried to say, his face heating up, “‘going at it.’”
Takamaki hummed, unconvinced. “Would you have if I hadn’t walked in?”
“That is an extremely inappropriate question.”
“The line of questioning can go anywhere else you would like for it to go, as long as you’re honest with me.”
“Fine. I find him attractive. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“That’s more of an objective fact than a feeling,” Takamaki retorted. “Everyone finds Ren attractive. Those who don’t are lying.”
“It seems his overinflated ego is contagious. It must have infected all of you Thieves as well,” Akechi said.
“Don’t act like you’re immune,” she teased.
“I never claimed to be, only that I wished for it.” Akechi sighed, trying to find the best angle to attack his scoop again. It was tilting precariously to one side. “Things would be a lot easier if I were.”
Takamaki lifted up her cone in a mock toast. “Truth,” she proclaimed, almost celebratory.
Akechi mirrored her gesture before moving in for another bite to even things out, only for a chill gust of wind to blow his own hair into his mouth instead. Frustrated, he struggled to brush the strands away while Takamaki giggled. “Isn’t it a bit cold this time of year to be eating ice cream?” he grumbled.
“Perhaps,” Takamaki replied, continuing to look at him oddly.
“What is it?”
“I was just thinking about how Ren was right about how pretty your hair is. I kinda want to braid it,” she told him.
“Amamiya discusses my hair with you?” Akechi asked, incredulous.
“Don’t sound so surprised. He never shuts up about you. Your hair, your face, your hands…other things.” Takamaki pointedly looked away to take another bite of ice cream. Akechi’s face once again felt too warm for the season. “So, could I braid it?” she said, quickly shifting the subject.
“Absolutely not.”
“But it would keep it out of your face!”
“I happen to like it there.”
“Aw, you’re no fun.”
“Thank you, I strive to be.”
Takamaki rolled her eyes. “Honestly, I have no idea what Ren sees in you.”
“Amusement, for the most part,” Akechi replied. “I think he enjoys watching me suffer.”
“That couldn’t be further from the truth,” Takamaki said seriously. “He’d help you in a heartbeat if you ever told him what was bothering you.”
“I’d rather be laughed at than pitied,” he spat.
“People can only hate you or pity you, huh? Is it really so hard to believe that someone might actually like you?”
“Plenty of people like me well enough. I am, in fact, a likable person when I want to be.”
“Okay then, but do all your adoring fans love you?”
“You cannot be serious.”
“I wish I wasn’t,” Takamaki admitted, “but that boy is completely gone for you.”
“Amamiya told you that, did he?”
“In so many words,” she confirmed. “So many, many words.” Takamaki sounded both tired and mildly horrified, casting him an accusatory glare as if he were responsible.
“I never asked for him to be. This is hardly my fault,” Akechi said defensively. He took a bite from his cone to free up some more ice cream.
“His feelings aren’t, but what about yours?” She pointed at him with her ice cream, and he flinched away to avoid any of it spilling onto him. “You were the one who kissed him, after all.”
“Why do you even know that?”
“Many. Words.”
Akechi got the distinct impression that he would not be escaping this conversation without some concession on his part. Anyone who’d dealt with Amamiya at his most insufferable was certainly a force to be reckoned with, and likely wouldn’t put up with his bullshit forever. He could always run the other direction, as humiliating as it would be, and only his pride was stopping him. Of course, there was also Alibaba to be dealt with, and she could probably track his phone. He’d have to ditch it then, but of course that would mean losing access to the Metaverse, and Shido would be furious when he wouldn’t be able to reach him.
Standing his ground it was, then.
God, this was going to suck.
“Amamiya is certainly the most…interesting person I’ve ever met,” Akechi tried, eyeing Takamaki for approval. She motioned for him to go on. “He seems to take every opportunity to drive me insane, yet I could talk to him for hours and never feel bored. He rises to every challenge I throw at him and challenges me in turn. I could defeat him over and over and over again, and he would take it in stride every single time with that infuriating smile on his face, saying that he’ll just get better next time, and I believe him. He has an uncanny and fascinating ability to keep moving forward, and sometimes I wonder if there will come a day that he’ll ever get bored of me and leave me behind. It’s this horrible, confusing feeling where I want him to improve and keep me on my toes, but I dread the day he wins. All I can do right now is refuse to lose so he'll have to keep coming back, but then..."
Akechi cleared his throat as he trailed off. He’d meant to keep things vague, but the words had just kept coming. It was all too much to describe, and he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to, so he thought it best just to stop trying. “Does that answer your question?” he said before diving back into his ice cream to avoid meeting Takamaki’s eyes.
“Wow, that was…a lot,” she said after a moment. Akechi almost laughed; he’d hardly scratched the surface. “But you have to know that he wouldn’t ever actually abandon you like that, right?”
“Of course not. His hero complex would never allow it.”
“No, that’s not…” Takamaki groaned. “What do I have to say to drill the fact that he cares about you into your thick skull?”
“Nothing, preferably,” he said. “I can't accept it, since it would mean that the one person whose intelligence can usually be counted upon has been nothing but a fool this whole time, and I am one as well for believing otherwise.”
“Does someone have to be an idiot to think that you’re worth their time?”
“Did you somehow miss the part where I’m planning on putting a bullet in his fucking skull?”
Takamaki looked him up and down, then shrugged. “Well, no one’s perfect,” she offered.
Akechi blinked slowly. “I’ve changed my mind. He isn’t stupid; he’s deranged. You all are.”
“Well, you sure fit right in, don’t you?” Takamaki snickered around her ice cream.
“I don’t see how this is a laughing matter.”
“It’s not, but there’s something about stressful problems like this that makes laughing the only rational response. Come on, you have to admit it’s a little funny how you managed to screw up your whole secret assassination plot so badly that not only does everyone know, but you’ve also fallen in love with your target.”
“I never said-”
“Do you deny it?” Her eyes staring him down were steady even as she stifled some more chuckles that made her entire frame shake.
To his surprise, Akechi found himself laughing too. “No, I guess not. I suppose when you put it like that…” The next thing he knew, he was doubled over on the bench, laughing harder than he could ever remember doing so in his life, as comical as it had been up until this moment. At some point, what was left of his ice cream had splattered to the ground in his fit, and even something as small as that suddenly seemed funny. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes, and he was eventually reduced to wheezing, unable to find enough air to make any more sound.
When he finally came back to his senses, Takamaki was still smiling, though not without concern in her eyes. “Are you alright?” she asked.
“What a ridiculous question,” he huffed. “Of course not. Never have been, but what else is new?”
“So, uh, now what?”
“‘Now what?’ I should be asking you that question. Was this not your plan, to get me to admit that I have something as absurd as feelings and then appeal to my better nature or some shit? Try to persuade me not to shoot your leader all in the name of love?”
“Can’t appeal to something you never had,” Takamaki jabbed. “Also, my plan was just to shove you two together like dolls, going ‘now kiss.’ The whole murder thing is beyond my ability to find a resolution to.”
“What was all this for, then?”
“To try and get the both of you to pull your heads out of your asses and actually talk to each other. And since Ren went and screwed that up, I’d hoped that you might actually be the reasonable one.”
“After everything you know about me, how on earth did you come to that conclusion?”
“You’ve met Ren, yeah?”
“Fair enough.”
“Just talk to him, please. This isn’t some game between the two of you anymore. He’s not your opponent, not even one of the pieces on the board. At least, he doesn’t have to be.”
“And if I already am?”
"I told you, I don’t want to play with these metaphors and mind games,” she muttered. Akechi resisted the urge to point out that she was the one who started it. “If you must make this into some kind of competition, just imagine how shocked Ren will look when you finally tell him how much you’ve really been holding back.”
“Why does that actually tempt me?”
“Because you two are the biggest idiots hopelessly in love that I’ve ever had to deal with, and I am the ‘bestest friend ever,’ according to the coffee mug that Ren made me.”
Akechi rolled his eyes but couldn’t bite back a smile. “Well, I suppose if it’s on a mug, it must be true.”
“You bet your ass-that-I’ve-heard-too-much-about it is.”
ANN: I got Akechi to admit he was in love with you.
REN: You did WHAT
REN: Details!!!
REN: Ann you can’t just leave me with that
REN: ANN WTF
The Phantom Thieves met up one last time before the final infiltration of Sae’s Palace, confirming the plan and when to meet the next day and then handing the calling card off to the younger Niijima to take care of the last step. The last one to be taken in the physical world, at least.
The atmosphere in Leblanc’s attic that night was strangely somber for such a usually boisterous group. Niijima’s mood made sense for the occasion, and Akechi supposed everyone else’s did as well, considering what they all had apparently known about his plan from the beginning. They tended to avoid meeting his eyes, which he probably would have brushed off were the situation different. They never had any reason to like him, though now they had every reason to hate him.
Even Amamiya. Especially Amamiya.
The rest of the Thieves forced as casual a goodbye as they could muster and filed down the stairs. Akechi moved to follow them, but he hesitated by the handrail when Takamaki cast one final glance at him over her shoulder before disappearing into the cafe. She’d asked him to talk to Amamiya, but it wasn’t like she could ever force him to. He owed her nothing, except maybe for that dreadful ice cream he’d ruined in the park.
He ought to say something. No, he ought to stick to his plan.
As he continued turning over the two options in his mind, Amamiya spoke up. “Hey, Akechi? Do you think we could, I don’t know, talk?”
Akechi looked back at him. He was tugging anxiously on a strand of hair, keeping his eyes fixed downward as if the dusty floor suddenly held all the secrets to the universe. It was maddening to watch his rival switch from the suave and confident Joker in the Metaverse to a reticent schoolboy who hunched only to appear less intimidating in reality, mostly because he could slip in and out of both as easily and as comfortably as putting on a mask.
Akechi’s transitions always felt like the sudden and uneasy jolt of a dream into a nightmare. He still hadn’t decided which was which.
“In private?” he asked, noticing how the team’s insufferable feline mascot was conspicuously absent from Amamiya’s side.
Amamiya nodded. “Yeah,” he breathed.
“Not here,” Akechi insisted. “I’ve been made aware of how easily our conversations can be listened in on.”
“Mementos, then?”
“Mementos,” he confirmed, trying not to let the way his stomach flipped at the word affect his voice.
A few minutes later, they were taking the train to Shibuya, standing side by side in silence. Akechi usually found the quiet around Amamiya comfortable, perhaps even soothing. Akechi knew that if he had anything to say, however trivial or annoying, he could be relied upon to say it even at the most inopportune moments, but to his credit, Amamiya never dealt in insipid small talk. It felt like an opportunity, an invitation, even, to breathe. To just be, and not for anyone else’s sake but his own.
This time, however, felt tense and suffocating, and Akechi mentally counted the seconds until they could disembark, as though the fresh air would somehow relieve that.
To his utter shock and dismay, it didn’t.
Nothing for it then but to press onward. He accessed the Nav and strode forward into Mementos ahead of Amamiya, chin held high as though he weren’t about to do the dumbest thing he had ever done in his life in a long, long line of dumb decisions. He only went a few paces in, just far enough that their Personas could be summoned without difficulty, but not so far that they would attract the attention of any Shadows lurking about. Just like last time.
Akechi took a deep breath and let it out slowly, keeping his back turned to Amamiya. It was shakier than he would have liked or ever cared to admit.
“The last time we were here like this, I told you that I would come at you with all that I had, no more holding back,” Akechi began. “I lied. There’s more that I should have said to you, should have showed you, but-”
Akechi stiffened at the sound of footsteps approaching and whirled around when they finally came to a stop, only to find Amamiya standing alarmingly close, the inches between them only afforded by the length of his mask. The expression in his eyes was unreadable, but his gaze was so intense and electrified that Akechi found himself rooted to the spot, despite his instincts telling him to run far, far away. He was very close. It made thinking hard.
When a few seconds had passed without Amamiya saying anything, Akechi cleared his throat and asked, “What are you doing?”
Amamiya reached up and removed Akechi’s mask, and as humiliating as it was to just let him, Akechi refused to flinch away and admit weakness. “What I should have done last time we were here,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. He carelessly let the mask clatter to the ground, but Akechi had barely opened his mouth to protest when Amamiya pulled him into a fierce kiss, winding his arms around Akechi’s waist to keep him close.
It was sloppy, it was rushed, it was desperate, but at the same time so, so addicting. Chasing down the whines Amamiya made in the back of his throat. Finding new ways to grasp, to pull, to come apart and return closer than before, sending sparks skittering across his brain at each new sensation and touch through his gloves. He’d wondered before, and he still wondered now, how far they really could go before ending in complete ruin. What new sounds he could draw out when pushed to the brink, whether he could bring Amamiya to his knees, begging.
But there was also the way that Amamiya held him that he couldn’t seem to get enough of, like he was the whole world, something precious to be both lifted up and held close. It made his skin crawl and protest yet somehow still feel pressed for more. He wanted to scream at Amamiya to stop playing with him, to stop caring like it wasn’t the biggest mistake of his life, but he wanted to keep being kissed like nothing else mattered, to keep running towards the validation and affection of someone he admired and despised in equal measure.
And while all these things were certainly tempting, Akechi came to realize that this happened to be the exact opposite of what he had come here to do. Goddammit, Amamiya.
Akechi eased back, and though Amamiya leaned in as if to follow, he allowed Akechi the space, however small it was. He was still close enough to feel the heat radiating from Amamiya’s flushed face, to feel his breath skating across his skin. “Not that this isn’t…” Akechi racked his hazy brain for the appropriate word. “...diverting,” he eventually settled on, and Amamiya snorted at the choice, “but I was trying to be sincere.”
“Don’t care,” Amamiya retorted with more force than Akechi had expected. He was briefly stunned into silence as Amamiya tried to draw him back in with slow, open-mouthed kisses along his jawline.
“You said you wanted to talk,” Akechi bit out with some difficulty, because damn if Amamiya wasn’t making it hard to concentrate.
“I lied,” he chuckled against his throat. Akechi had to suppress a shiver.
“Joker-”
“Please,” Amamiya cut him off. He straightened so he could look Akechi in the eyes again. “No more talking. I don’t want to know. Just let me pretend a little longer. Just a few more minutes. Please.”
Akechi narrowed his eyes. “That sounded a lot like begging.”
“And if it was?” Amamiya averted his gaze, like he could already guess Akechi’s response.
“You’re pathetic,” Akechi spat, shoving him away.
“Maybe I am,” he shot back, not even bothering to defend himself.
“Pretending? Is that all you’ve been doing this whole time?”
“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing?”
“And so what if I have? Are you saying you’d prefer that this,” Akechi gestured to his Robin Hood garb, “be all that I am? This silly white knight of so-called justice with a pretty face for the cameras?”
“That’s not at all what I meant,” Amamiya protested.
“Enlighten me, then. What did you mean?”
“What I meant is that I would prefer it my friend or rival or whatever the hell you are wasn’t going to fucking murder me tomorrow!” The words rang loudly in the empty space as Amamiya struggled to even out his breathing. “I’m scared, Akechi. Can you really blame me?” he admitted shakily.
“Scared,” Akechi repeated disdainfully. “The Fearless Leader of the Phantom Thieves, scared? I never thought I’d see the day.” He started laughing then, not entirely sure why. He should be happy, right? This was a victory, after all. His enemy was cornered and frightened and couldn’t see a way out, and all Akechi could feel was shame and disgust with no idea towards whom it was really directed.
“How is it that someone like you has defeated me at every turn?” he went on, sneering. “How did you, without any obstacle, get everything I always wanted? Your strength, your friends, your admirers - and why did I have to be one of them? Why can’t I despise you for reminding me of everything I hate about myself?”
Amamiya’s face softened, and Akechi felt his stomach twist painfully at the sight. It made him sick. “Akechi, I-” he started, taking a step forward.
“Don’t!” Akechi warned, though he wasn’t sure exactly what it was that he didn’t want from him. Pity, comfort, understanding - it didn’t matter. “You know, if I were in your position, I would be marching headlong towards my fate, and do you know why? Because I deserve it! That’s the real difference between you and me: I deserve everything that’s waiting for me at the end, and you don’t. You don’t deserve me!”
Amamiya was silent for a long time, not that Akechi could have understood him over the roar of blood rushing in his ears and the echo of his labored breathing.
“I gave up worrying about what I deserved a long time ago,” he finally replied, approaching cautiously like one would a wounded animal. “It doesn’t change the fact that I still want you.”
“You can’t mean that.”
“I do.”
“Then, don’t,” Akechi insisted. “I’m not the kind of person anybody wants.”
“Well, you certainly don’t make it easy,” Amamiya half-teased, trying to relieve some of the tension. “Unfortunately for you, I’m stubborn and like a challenge.”
Despite himself, Akechi let slip a genuine laugh. “Yes, how unfortunate. I suppose I would have been disappointed in you if you didn’t rise to the occasion.” He paused a moment to steady his breathing, taking in their surroundings to reorient himself. Mementos, an ever changing hellscape that he could navigate like the back of his hand. And in front of him, standing firm as a fixture with a steady gaze, Amamiya. They’d found themselves here before, but now, “Why did we come here again?”
“To talk, sorta,” Amamiya offered sheepishly, the tips of his ears turning pink. Akechi refused to let himself think that it was cute. “Although, it sounded like you were the one who actually had something important to say.”
“Ah, yes. That.”
“What was it you wanted to show me?”
“‘Want’ is a strong word. ‘Compelled’ might be more accurate,” Akechi elaborated. “I thought it only fair that you have some idea of what you’re dealing with, considering the circumstances.”
He knelt down and picked his mask up from the ground, pressing it to his face as he rose again. “Loki,” he called, closing his eyes and feeling the familiar flames of his persona envelop him, burning away his brilliant white facade, leaving behind only the black and tattered remains of his true self. He didn’t dare try to gauge Amamiya’s reaction until well after he’d allowed Loki to return to him and his helmet settled around his face. He watched him through the haze of red lenses, waiting for shock, revulsion, fear, anger - anything. But Amamiya just tilted his head in vague curiosity.
“The horns are a surprise,” he said at last.
“Is that it?” Akechi scoffed in disbelief.
Amamiya shrugged, then explained, “I mean, I already kind of figured out you were the ‘Black Mask’ we’d heard about. It’s not like there are that many other Persona users running around, and I knew you were one pretty much since we met, so that whole story of you surviving your encounter with an awakening was total bullshit. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together, honestly.”
“Since we met? In June?” Sure, he hadn’t been as careful as he should have been, especially not in recent weeks, but how had he managed to fuck up that badly?
“Morgana was the only one who said anything about pancakes,” Amamiya told him, stifling a snicker behind his hand.
It took a few seconds for his meaning to sink in, and then…
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Akechi shouted as Amamiya doubled over laughing. At him. He wanted to die. He wanted to kill him. Hard to laugh when your throat is ripped out. “All this time! All this time! And you…” he stopped suddenly, realizing something, “...and you’re still here.”
Amamiya eased himself onto the ground to catch his breath. He looked up at Akechi, smiling. “Yeah.”
Akechi slumped down to his level, feeling suddenly too exhausted to stand. “How did we end up here?”
“We took a train,” Amamiya replied initially, though at Akechi’s glare, he amended, “We’re both idiots who’d rather play elaborate mind games instead of having a conversation like normal people.”
“And now it’s too late.” Akechi shook his head. “I can’t stop what’s happening tomorrow.” And even if he could, Shido would blow his brains out for it.
Amamiya’s smile faltered. “I know.”
“You have a plan?”
“I do.”
“So what was all that, then? Before?” Akechi asked, his face heating up at the memory. “About you being scared?”
“It’s risky,” he admitted. “There’s a lot of ways it could go very, very wrong.”
“Maybe I could-”
“No,” Amamiya cut him off sharply. “No, part of it is dependent on you not knowing. I’ll go through with my plan. You go through with yours. We’ll just have to see who comes out on top.”
Akechi couldn’t help but smile. A challenge if there ever was one. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said, sounding far more assured than he felt.
“There’s more, isn’t there?” Amamiya continued. “There’s things you still haven’t told me, besides the Black Mask. Like who you’re working for. And why.”
“That’s…complicated,” Akechi bit out, swallowing the bile that always rose in his throat when he had to think about Shido for more than two seconds. Really had to think about it, that is, as opposed to plastering on a smile over thoughts of how he was going to make the man suffer. “And far too much to get into right now.”
Amamiya nodded in understanding. “Later, then. You can catch me up after all this has settled. Over coffee, perhaps?”
“It’s a date,” Akechi agreed, smirking.
Amamiya ducked his head to hide the fact that he was blushing. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to you flirting back.”
“I can’t let you have all the fun at my expense.”
“You can’t tell me you weren’t at least a little into it,” Amamiya teased, “but, yes, it was mostly at your expense.”
“Ah, I’ll have to find some way to salvage my pride,” Akechi said with a roll of his eyes.
“I’d like to see you try.”
“I’m sure you would.”
A beat, then, “So, are we going to make out again, or…?”
Akechi snorted and threw a hand up to his face to hide it. “You are incorrigible.”
“I have no idea what that word is, so I’m just going to assume it means you think I’m sexy.”
“Amamiya, for the first and only time in my life, I am literally begging you to stop,” Akechi groaned.
Amamiya grinned mischievously. “We could read fanfiction instead. Got any recommendations?”
“God, I hate you.”
“I know.” He fiddled with his gloves briefly before trying again. “Could I hold your hand?”
Akechi sighed loudly and glared at Amamiya, who only gave him the biggest puppy dog eyes in return. It was unbearable. He let his hand fall open at his side. “Fine.”
Amamiya cheered softly to himself and scooted over to lace their fingers together. They sat like that for a while, Amamiya fiddling with Akechi’s claws every so often. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant, Akechi thought as he gave what was meant to be a reassuring squeeze. Amamiya bumped their shoulders together in response. It was nice.
Akechi let himself breathe deeply. For the first time in a while, his mind was quiet.
If Akechi were given a choice the night before, he would have chosen to stay in Mementos, the rest of the world be damned. He’d rather the Reaper come for him than have to return to reality, to answer a thousand calls and messages to make sure everything was in place today. The day that the Phantom Thieves went down. The day that their leader died.
He’d at least tried to eat something that day. He threw it right back up.
However, for as much like shit as he was sure he looked, Amamiya was definitely worse off. The rest of the team busied themselves moving about the Safe Room, double checking that everything was in order before their final showdown with Sae’s shadow, but their actions were stiff and distracted, interrupted by glances over their shoulder at the source of their tension: Joker, standing somberly in a shadowed corner, tugging at a curl behind his ear so frantically that it was a miracle it hadn’t fallen out.
The Thieves were nothing without Joker, and Joker was busy having a crisis, and the whole thing was so pathetic it was almost funny.
Sighing, Akechi shoved off from the wall he was leaning against and approached Amamiya. He felt eyes boring into his back as he did, but he shrugged them off. For once, he was actually trying to help them.
He started out by first grabbing Amamiya’s wrist and forcing it away from his hair, and just when he was startled out of his own thoughts, Akechi braced himself against the wall with his free hand thudding just beside Amamiya’s head, effectively pinning him in place. Akechi smiled in satisfaction as he watched the color rise in Amamiya’s face. “You need to calm down,” he whispered. “You’re stressing everybody out.”
Amamiya cleared his throat. “You’re not exactly helping with that.”
Akechi brought their hands up between them, making a show of slowly twining their fingers together. “I thought you might appreciate a distraction.”
“Distraction very much appreciated,” he replied, letting his eyes wander as far as they could with how close Akechi had forced them together.
“You know, I’m really looking forward to that coffee,” Akechi said, attempting to lead Amamiya down a new train of thought.
“Me too.”
“It’s funny. I never cared much for coffee until I tried yours. It’s become quite an addiction, actually. Where did you learn to make it so well?”
“Sojiro taught me,” Amamiya answered.
“Ah, another new skill that came naturally. I ought to be jealous.” Amamiya looked like he wanted to protest, probably to regale him with stories of countless burnt beans and shattered mugs, but Akechi pressed further into his space suddenly, and continued in a low voice, “Except how can I be? When such a skill benefits me directly.”
“That’s, uh, that’s a compliment, right?”
“Take it or leave it.”
“Taking it. Definitely taking it.” Amamiya swallowed hard. He still looked nervous, but not in the same way as before. He went on, “Just so we’re clear, and so Panther doesn’t kill me, this ‘coffee date’ is an actual, romantically-inclined date, yeah?”
“You mean, apart from the deep dive into my tragic backstory and connection to a government conspiracy?”
“Uh, what?” He searched Akechi’s eyes for any elaboration, but shook himself out of it. There would be time for questions later. Unfortunately. Hopefully. “I mean, yes.”
“Then, yes.”
Amamiya’s shoulders visibly sagged with relief before he finally smiled, reaching some semblance of his usual self. “I’m honored, though I’m sure your rabid fans will have my head once they find out.”
Akechi jokingly pretended to consider this. “I am in high demand these days.”
“Don’t let it start going to your head, now.”
“Me? Never.”
Amamiya rolled his eyes and reached up with his free hand to push a stray lock of hair behind Akechi’s ear. Akechi leaned ever so slightly into the touch as Amamiya’s hand settled gently on the back of his neck. “Good. You’re high enough maintenance as it is.”
“I don’t consider having high standards that much of a fault,” Akechi scoffed. “I do still expect you to show me a good time, of course.”
“I’ll break out the candles and the rose petals, then.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” Akechi leaned his head forward ever so slightly, but just as Amamiya moved to meet him, he pushed himself back off the wall, abruptly breaking the spell of the moment. The others were watching, after all, and there were parts of himself and of Amamiya that he refused to share with them. “Well, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get on with that,” he announced, moving to pick his mask up off the table where everyone had set theirs to rest as well.
“Wait a second!” Amamiya called, snatching Akechi’s wrist and yanking him backwards until he stumbled into his embrace. And even then, as Amamiya’s arms wrapped securely around him and Akechi clung to the lapels of his coat for stability, he still felt himself falling. Just as the realization hit him that he was being dipped, of all things, like a silly princess or the lead in some mundane romantic comedy, Amamiya kissed him full on the the mouth, in plain view of the rest of the room.
A moment later, he was jolted back to his feet, face burning and swaying unsteadily where he stood, either from the kiss or from the sudden change in equilibrium, he couldn’t be sure. Takamaki whooped in triumph. Most looked away uncomfortably, except for Kitagawa who was staring uncomfortably. Sakamoto piped up, “Dude, we did not need to see that.”
Amamiya only beamed at Akechi. “For luck,” he said with a wink.
“Fuck you,” Akechi spat as soon as he found his words again. “I hate you, and I hope you die.”
Embarrassed, and also hoping he would die so he wouldn’t have to think about that ever again, Akechi snatched up his mask and stormed out of the room.
And when his heart had stopped hammering in his ribs and the room had stopped spinning, he secretly hoped that it had been lucky.
REN: Ann help
ANN: OMG YOU’RE ALIVE
ANN: MESSAGE THE GROUP CHAT WHY DON’T YOU
ANN: WAIT WHAT DO YOU NEED HELP WITH ARE YOU OK
REN: No I need rose petals but Boss won’t let me leave my room
ANN: wut
REN: Yeah my shady doctor said I had some fractures and won’t give me more drugs until I get the other ones out of my system and now Morgana is sitting on me so I can’t get out of bed
ANN: I love you but wtf
REN: Akechi’s coming for a date and I promised him rose petals
ANN: I thought you guys were joking
REN: Annnnnnnn
ANN: Go to sleep Ren
REN: That’s what Morgana said
REN: But the roses Ann
ANN: When is he coming over?
REN: Funny you mention that
REN: idk
REN: That never actually came up.
ANN: …
FUTABA: I placed an order at the flower shop for you
REN: U da best and I love you
FUTABA: Disgusting
AMAMIYA: I lived bitch
AKECHI: Damn