#(( akechi no killing. holds up stop sign ))

[discotenny]

Lost you once

After your death, Akechi struggles to make the right choice.

Goro Akechi x Reader <3k words, angst, P5R spoilers, acceptance of death, Akechi cries a lot>

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It’s the first time he sees you in months and it feels just like the first time he ever met you.

You’re lost in the station, looking around in confusion as you try to decipher signs that don’t look familiar. You accidentally bump into him and Akechi has to stop himself from letting out a yell, to stop himself from unleashing the culmination of a bad day onto some unsuspecting stranger.

Besides, you were already terrified enough, having gotten off at the wrong stop with little to no money left on your train card.

You chided yourself while explaining the situation to him- rambling self deprecating thoughts about being stupid for not refilling your balance, for falling asleep on your original train ride, and for bumping into him from behind.

He thought you were pathetic at the first meeting. A bumbling idiot, sweating with every word you rambled out- he had to hold himself back from letting his inner annoyance leak into his eyes.

Something about you sparked something strange within him. You reminded him a little too much of who he once was. And maybe that’s why he helped you that day. Why he bought you a ticket to Yongen-Jaya. Why he sat next to you on the train. And why he let himself accept your thank you gift of a half finished pack of gum.

Akechi made a joke that just one piece would have been less sad than a half eaten pack and he could see your lip tremble at his words. Akechi chose to ignore the strange guilt that came with the sight.

Following that, you promised one day you’d give him a proper thank you gift the next time you saw him. Akechi didn’t really believe there would be a next meeting, but it didn’t hurt to entertain the thought.

It’s the first time he sees you in months and it feels like the first time he saved you.

In another stroke of bad luck (or maybe fate), you find yourself falling into the Metaverse as you run away from some creeps trying to rope you into a ponzi scheme.

You’re terrified, shaking at the surreal and unfamiliar setting of a twisted version of Shibuya. From the corner of your eye you see running figures of blacks and reds. Out of instinct you hide, afraid of whatever monsters this strange world possesses.

That’s where he finds you. Hiding in an alleyway from sentient ATMs and shadowy businessmen. You’re just as scared as the first time he saw you, even more so in fact.

Once again he finds you pathetic, shaking like a leaf in the wind. But the sight of someone like you alive in the metaverse is a fascinating one he can’t help but admire. Deep inside he wonders if you’re different from others, but he squishes that thought.

He would have just killed you there, had you not immediately jumped into his arms when he first spotted you. Even worse- you had somehow guessed his identity under the mask- claiming the surprised sound he made was the exact same as the one from the train station.

He had every reason to kill you then and there, end your existence as he continued his mission to run away from the thieves, and no one would be the wiser as to where a pathetic nobody like you ended up.

Yet he didn’t. And that might’ve been the worst mistake of his life.

Because maybe if he killed you he wouldn’t have gone to dinner with you after. Maybe he wouldn’t have taken you home. Maybe he wouldn’t have spoken more and more with you.

Maybe if he killed you then he wouldn’t have fallen in love with you.

Maybe he wouldn’t desire your touch through every hour of every day. Maybe he wouldn’t go to sleep drifting to dreams of you. Maybe he wouldn’t live the rest of his days craving your form.

And maybe if he killed you, he wouldn’t have lost you.

It’s the first time he sees you in months and the way you run into his arms has never felt so wrong.

The last time he held you, he knew it would be the last. He spent the day showering you in love, kissing you all over, holding you as to savor everything you had to offer. He wanted you to feel safe in his last moments with you, how you always felt when you were by his side.

Going into Shido’s palace, he had every intention of never coming back.

He expected you to be devastated. Spend days crying in your bed over his disappearance. Be upset, maybe even angry at the thought of him abandoning you for his selfish goals. He expected you would be devastated, but he also expected you would move on eventually. That maybe your anger towards him would turn to hate, that your upset would turn to disdain. That you would look upon his imprint on your life as a dark part you would never long for again.

It’s for the best, he said to himself. As always, he ignored the guilt that came with knowing he would cause you turmoil.

But Akechi never expected you to come to Ren, begging him to help him. He never expected you to force them to take you, for you to venture willingly into the dangerous world of the metaverse- just for him.

Akechi looked into your eyes through his red mask and saw a flash of bravery that was never there before. The spark made him stop in his tracks, pause in his monologue, freeze over as he realized the best of you only came when he was at his worst.

But the guilt is squashed as soon as Ren opens his mouth. And all hell breaks loose.

The battle between the thieves and himself is something he wishes you never saw. Seeing his humanity break, letting loose the feelings he tried to keep you safe from, his desperation to prove he was worth living-

He tried not to look at you throughout the struggle. If he did, he knew his resolve would fall apart and he’d do nothing more than cry in your arms.

As he stands beaten and defeated in front of you and the thieves, he still doesn’t meet your eyes. Even as you try and comfort him with words of love and assurance the ringing in his ears tunes them out. He doesn’t hear your chiding, your cries, and he certainly doesn’t hear the first “I love you” towards him that slips past your lips.

As he accepts his defeat and his own inferiority, he notices a familiar presence creep out from the shadows.

The foul words that his shadow spits out make Akechi want to claw out of his own skin. Towards the thieves, towards himself, towards you- horrible words and terrible truths fill the air. Things he tried so desperately to hide from you.

His killings, his past, his life as a living puppet for Shido to toy with as he pleases- all of it is laid out for you to hear.

He notices the pistol attached to the shadow’s waist and recognizes the glint in his empty eyes. He swallows the defiance that rises from his throat, the part of him that wants to prove the monster in front of him wrong. Through it all Akechi realizes this is where he dies.

Acceptance is what causes him to raise his own gun towards the him in front of him.

And when his gun raises, you run.

It happens in a flash.

Two gunshots.

One towards him, one towards the button to raise the wall that separates him and the thieves.

Two people move.

You push him out of the way, he falls to the ground.

One wall.

And he can’t see you anymore.

Laughter in a mockery of his own fills the side of the wall inaccessible to him, descending in tone as they slowly disappear into the floor along with the source. Your shocked gasps and painful winces follow in turn.

He screams until his throat is raw, pounding at the wall as he tries to claw his way to the other side. He promised your safety, not this.

You speak to him the best you can, over the pain in your stomach and the agony in his heart. Shakiness lines your voice as you chide him, telling him to shut up and listen to you. Through your sentences you cry. And you let out the second “I love you” directed towards him, and the first “I love you” he actually hears.

By the time he can reply with his own declaration you don’t have it in you to answer. And despite his acceptance of his own death just seconds prior, acceptance at his own survival makes him want to do nothing but scream.

The months that follow leave him hollow, an empty shell at who he once was. He watches from the sidelines as the thieves save the world. He watches from the streets as Maruki makes a mockery of Tokyo.

And Akechi watches as you cry into his scarf, scared and terrified just as he remembered you to be the first time he met you. He holds you and he knows this isn’t supposed to be. He shuts his eyes tightly, squeezing your shaking form.

Akechi brings you to Ren because he doesn’t know what else to do.

But Ren’s changed. There’s a new sense of melancholy that’s settled in his soul, different from the overwhelming grief that’s taken over Akechi’s. The first words he speaks explain everything about this ‘new’ him.

“So this is what he meant.” Monotone. Void of all the underlying confidence and ego he used to carry himself with. Filled with nothing but acceptance of something the two of you cannot comprehend. Ren urges the two of you to come inside Leblanc and sit with him at a booth.

Akechi takes the inside of the seat and you grasp his hand as you sit down. After a moment of silence you’re the one that chooses to speak first.

“Why am I here?” The crack in your voice makes Akechi want to shatter.

You look up at Ren and your eyes plead in desperation for an answer. Akechi can’t help but look away, staring at the table as he refuses to bear witness to the cruelty of your situation.

Ren sighs and twiddles his thumbs on the wood. “Maruki came by yesterday. He offered me something in exchange for allowing him to merge mementos and reality together. I-”

Akechi sees red and stands up, letting go of your hand, pointing an accusatory finger towards Ren. “So you let this happen? You allowed him to do this?!”

“I didn’t! But I woke up this morning and everything… Everyone was different. All of my- our friends are somehow in these idealized, contradictory lives. It doesn’t make any sense… And I- I don’t know how to fix this.”

“And why aren’t you the only one affected huh? He offered you something but you’re still here-”

“It’s this. He offered me this.”

The walls of the cafe seem to dissipate as you soak in the information Ren just revealed. Akechi quiets, eyes widening as his hands fall to his sides. Ren looks away, a grimace finding itself on his features.

“I just wanted you to be happy, both of you. All of us. You shouldn’t have been involved from the start y/n. I- I shouldn’t have brought you with us and I regret it every single fucking day. It was my fault, I’m sor-”

You reach over the table and place a comforting hand on his own. “Please don’t apologize.” Despite the sadness that laces your words you’re smiling.

Ren returns your smile with a solemn one. He turns to Akechi, “When you disappeared after it felt like that dream was as good as gone. I didn’t know you were even alive until today…”

“So by bringing me back Maruki thought that would…”

“Fix us…” Akechi cuts in and his hands are shaking. The anger that claws up his body is familiar. It’s visceral, and he still refuses to look at you. “That bastard…”

The two of you leave Leblanc shortly after, accepting an invitation to come back tomorrow to discuss the situation further with Ren. The streets are quiet as Akechi leads you home, holding your hand but not looking at your stare.

“Goro…” He doesn’t need to meet your eyes to know you’re looking at him in pity. “I…” Your hesitation makes his throat close. Are you scared of what he might do? Are you thinking back to the last time you saw him angry? The last time you saw him ever?

“I… don’t want you to accept this reality.”

“What?” The smile that finds itself on his face is a front for his disbelief. His eyes are closed despite turning towards you and that makes you frown.

“Look at me, Goro.”

He doesn’t want to. The last time he stared at you up close was the morning of your last. The last time he looked in your eyes was moments before your passing. The last time he looked in your eyes was the day a part of him died.

But your hand gently grasps his chin and forces him to drown. He can’t stop the tears that fall from his eyes as his eyes finally meet your own.

“Reject this, please…”

Akechi doesn’t say more because if he does it’ll be a verbal acknowledgement that you weren’t supposed to be here. He doesn’t say more because if he does he doesn’t know what’s going to happen to you.

He was supposed to be your protector, but he’s reduced to a shaking child desperate to cling onto the one source of love in his life. The more you take him into your hold the more he crumples, letting out sobs in a reply he can’t bring himself to speak. He must look pathetic, he thinks to himself.

“I-”

Your hand comes to his head, caressing his hair as he cries. Through sniffles and hiccups he allows himself to hug you back.

“I’m so, so sorry,” His voice is lined with water as he feels himself begin to grovel.

“I know,” your voice is soft yet all it serves is to intensify his turmoil.

“I don’t want to lose you again, I-”

“It’s alright.”

“Is it selfish that I want to say no?”

You pull away from him, holding him by the shoulders and looking up at him with your wonderful, shining eyes.

“It’s not selfish Goro. It’s just love.”

You kiss him, and your lips are just as soft as he remembers them to be. The same lips that would bring him out of nightmares and darkness. The same lips that would manifest a sense of love for himself that never existed without your presence. It’s innocence that lines your movements, just like the innocence that has followed you since the first day he ever met you.

When you draw back to take a breath he finds himself chasing after you in desperation. His hand comes to your chin as he tries to pull you closer to him, to try and merge your souls so yours can’t escape from his again.

There’s a sick feeling in his stomach that if your lips represent innocence, his represents the ever growing darkness seeping out from within him. With the merger of your love, Akechi doesn’t want to know if the product is something that can withstand what has to come next.

His lips supplement all the words he refuses to say. They pour apologies into your being and with every movement he hopes you understand just how much he missed you and how much he needed you.

When you part you’re panting, staring up at him in awe and wonder and it makes him want to sob.

“I…” Akechi wants to move away from your gaze, from any possible judgment he feels you may let out. Ironically, it’s the intensity of your look that keeps him chained to eye contact. “I cannot live in a world without you.”

“But you have to.”

He can’t bring himself to say that he knows but you know it’s there anyways.

“It’s going to be okay Goro.”

“How do you know that? It hasn’t been okay since… I haven’t been okay since.”

“I know because I believe in you,” your thumb rubs his cheek, red from the cold and tears. “I know you think that what happened is your fault but it was my choice Goro. You can’t take that away just so you can deny yourself the chance to live.”

The shine in your eyes is unmistakable. The same look you gave him before he never saw you again, bravery. Akechi grabs your hand because he knows what’s going to happen next.

“You can’t do this,” he chokes up, “You can’t sacrifice yourself again for me.”

You take a step back, still holding onto his cheek and looking at him with those incredible, shining eyes. “I love you, Goro.”

“I love you too. I love you, I love you, I-” He hopes if he repeats it enough it’ll convince you to stay.

“And because I love you, I can’t stand to see you this way.”

You kiss his cheek for one more time and whisper in his ear.

“Live your life Goro. Help Ren and save the world. And when we see each other again, tell me everything,” your lips leave his cheek so gently it's like you were never there.

“I will, I promise, I promise you I will,” his gaze glosses over as he takes in all of your form. Your warmth, your eyes, your kindness, your lips, your bravery, your smile, all of you. Akechi closes his eyes and there’s a silent I love you that doesn’t need to be said.

The embrace of your arms dissipates, his hand closes around nothing, and all that’s left in your wake is the glitter of sparkle and shine. It’s the last time he ever sees you in this life, but it’s nothing like the first time he lost you.

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RAHHHHHHh !!!!! I hope you guys enjoyed this !!!! I enjoyed writing this GOD I LOVE MT BAB TGEFUWHFIWEHFJQI !!!

[writer-akihiko]

Hi!! I know this story is finished and old already but is it ok if you make a ending where the reader ends up with Nobunaga? I kinda want angst in it.. That would be all TY and have a great day. (The story that I'm talking about is "All For Her")

All For Her - Kennyo X Reader X Yandere!Nobunaga [ALT]

PART 1, ACTUAL ENDING

I think I got carried away, but I basically got a wheel to choose some events of this story. This is my personal characterisation of Nobunaga from IkeSen as a Yandere. Actual Nobunaga would not do this; this is my take on how Nobunaga acts as a Yandere.

Warnings: Tragedy, Character Death, Yandere Content and Emotional Manipulation

"You defiled her!" Kennyo roared, unsheathing his staff. He blocked the rampant parries of the Devil King. "And you think that's love."

"Of course," Nobunaga said smugly, dodging Kennyo's swing. "This war…

It's all for her."

~○~

"This will be the last time you hold her, Kennyo."

He roared, howling at the pain of the sword. Kennyo fell to the ground, the stab to his shoulder numbing all of his senses as the blade cuts deep into his flesh.

"Perhaps YN would cast you away if I scar your face once again… Oh… How adorable she'd look to you in horror with the new scars I give you," Nobunaga teased, his menacing tone only edging his sword. "Or, I should kill you right here, and your head should be my bride's present…"

"KENNYO!"

You had come out to the battlefield since more of the injured soldiers could barely make it to the base. Despite of the fact of being on opposite sides, you still treated some of the Oda's soldiers that couldn't reach their own healers. Those with you moved their troops away as you ran to your lover.

Nobunaga pressed the blade further into Kennyo's neck, taunting you to come closer. You kept your distance, but you were horrified at Nobunaga's antics, as his words froze you on the spot. Your body and mind shut down at the thought of Kennyo being harmed. Your blood went cold, and before you knew it you had thrown yourself on top of Kennyo, protecting him from Nobunaga's swinging sword.

"How endearing," Nobunaga smiled at you, his gaze suddenly soft at seeing you. "It's been quite long, my fireball. I knew you'd come running to me."

All the strength left your body as Nobunaga ripped you away from your lover. Your will never left you, but your fear overcame it to the point you couldn't fight against the crazed man that desired you.

The Oda, as usual were efficient in wrapping up the war. Kennyo was arrested and it was claimed as a win for the Oda. The soldiers retreated and Ieyasu cared for the wounded. You'd usually see Hideyoshi and Masamune with grins on their faces, but Hideyoshi was practically expressionless and Masamune's eye only held rage but you weren't sure who it was directed to.

The Oda celebrated their grand victory with a banquet, and the Demon King kept you by his side, pampered and decorated for his eyes only. He kept you in his lap, as your being shifted to the automatic machine it used to be, pouring sake for your obsessed captor.

What sickened you to the stomach was how he announced the banquet.

"With the capture of Kennyo, I sentence him to continuous torture!"

Oh how you wanted to throw up at whoever cheered Nobunaga on...

Eventually, once Nobunaga had gotten drunk, Hideyoshi and Masamune flanked each side of Nobunaga, as Mitsuhide and Mitsunari guarded you. You made no effort to make conversation with the other warlords, for you feared what they might spill to Nobunaga, with the exception of Mitsuhide.

With how everyone was acting, you could only assume Mitsuhide messed with the sake as he was so bold to engage in conversation with you. "Princess, you must be prepared tomorrow."

"Is there something that I missed when I return?"

His voice lowered to a hush, as he explained his intentions. "Nobunaga will find my involvement with your escape. He'd execute me, but it will give you a chance to freedom."

You almost lost your stiff conduct, a drop of sake spilling onto your kimono. Yes, it was true that Mitsuhide was involved in convincing Nobunaga to let you roam to where you were taken by Kennyo, but even by then you weren't sure of his intentions. "Mitsuhide… Why?"

His hushed voiced tickled your ear as he revealed his one intention to you.

"For the woman I love. Even if I don't have your heart, I want you to bask in freedom."

~○~

The next morning's war council came, and there and then, another lower vassal accused Mitsuhide as the traitor that led their beloved Princess to Kennyo's army. The war council this time took a casual turn, as Nobunaga deemed it fit for the ladies of the court to witness the accusation from your balcony. Behind your veil, you shed a tear, sending a venomous gaze to Nobunaga.

You excused yourself from your maids, making your way out of your personal bedroom. Mitsunari should be waiting for you, as he authorised all the guards to be positioned else where. From your knowledge, Ieyasu, Masamune and Hideyoshi were in on Mitsuhide's plan too. Masamune and Ieyasu were to take charge of Kennyo's 'daily torture', while Hiedyoshi was to cause a scene by his natural rage at Mitsuhide betraying his Lord Nobunaga.

Nobunaga raised his fan, quelling the arguments amongst his vassals. "Ah… but wait, Akechi Mitsuhide isn't the only traitor amongst the Oda."

"W-What do you mean Lord Nobunaga?" Hideyoshi, who delivered slightly fake punches to Mitsuhide in his 'anger', stopped as he questioned Nobunaga. "Mitsuhide is always one to do things on his own!"

You raced through every corridor near the tenshu, trying to find Mitsunari in the hallways. Anywhere. Where could he be? Did he get-

The roars of shock from the Oda vassals rang as two guards brought none other that Ishida Mitsunari to the podium of Nobunaga, clearly bruised and beaten.

"A report from the guards came about suspicions of your vassal here to change the guards around the palace," Nobunaga said, as he ordered the guards to drop Mitsunari. "How could I not assume he was acting under your orders, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, you monkey?"

Mitsuhide and Hideyoshi were both apprehended at the hands of their own friends. They were brought to their knees in front of their long time lord, as their heads were pushed down to hang in shame.

"To honour your execution, since you both are great friends," He announced, drawing his pistol from his kimono. "I shall have you both shoot each other until your bodies fall. I'll allow your families to bury your bodies and your next brothers shall carry on your clan's lines."

"Any last words?"

Hideyoshi walked up to his lord he once respected, snatching the gun into his hand. "I thank you for letting me die by the hands of an honorable warlord unlike yourself."

Nobunaga did not hold back his anger as he struck Hideyoshi across the face with his iron-ribbed fan.

"I wouldn't have done this if you returned to the Lord Nobunaga I used to serve," Hideyoshi retorted, taking his stance with the gun pointed at Mitsuhide.

Mitsuhide had nothing to say to Nobunaga, except the silent nod to receive his gun. He raised it to Hideyoshi, saying his last to an old friend.

"Sorry for being a good shot."

"Don't be."

BANG!

You couldn't hold back your tears for Hideyoshi and Mitsuhide. You sobbed into your kimono, your mind being invaded by negative thoughts of your doings being the cause of their deaths. You didn't want this. You didn't want this. If only you had-

"The other two traitors are here!"

The crowd shifted as Ieyasu and Masamune made their way through the crowd, having heard the gunshots. From what you could discern, they were brought there by the jail guards by the orders of Nobunaga's messengers.

"This audience has had enough execution for the day," Nobunaga decided, looking over the three captured warlords under his hand. "However, I might as well give out the sentences now."

Ieyasu and Masamune were not bounded to any guards, but it was clear that they had long accepted their deaths. You wanted at least one of them to abandon you, to give you a sign that you weren't worth the trouble but none of them did. Those three stood their ground, as they face the Devil King himself.

"Ishida Mitsunari, under influence of Toyotomi Hideyoshi shall have a beheading for all to see," He commanded. The scribes were rapid to jot everything down, their parchment wet from the ink and not from the blood seeping into the paper. "Tokugawa Ieyasu and Date Masamune, for assisting the traitors, from this moment our alliance in dissolved. The Oda shall act on their own without your help."

"You shall be sent away. Unfortunately my authority does not reach you."

Masamune scoffed, "I wouldn't want to serve such a stupid warlord anyway."

Nobunaga shrugged it off. "May I meet you two on the battlefield, where I shall have your heads."

"May we have our revenge," Ieyasu said, walking away from the crowd, Masamune behind him.

~○~

Months had passed. Months of staying in this empty shell of yours, made to serve only Nobunaga. Before the last of his days, Mitsunari had requested to play Go with you. You apologised immensely for causing such tragedy, but Mitsunari welcomed you wholesomely. There was no hard feelings as his execution neared, and he advised you to not attend or witness it. You shed tears for Mitsunari, the handkerchief used to catch your tears delivered to Mitsunari's grave.

The day Nobunaga returned from his umpteenth war was as normal as any other day to you. You were sewing mindlessly, as you had no will to greet Nobunaga. He understood that, instead barging into your shared bedroom with familiar cloths around his arm.

He grinned as he noticed you recognise the band of cloth around his arm. "Ah, a parting gift from Ieyasu and Masamune before I took their heads. They consented to it as well, but you're not allowed to bring it around-"

"I hate you. I hate you, I HATE YOU!" You screamed into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

"I don’t mind firecracker," He said, his grip starting to feel painful at your wrist. "You see, I didn't care if those five were traitors or not. It was my luck that they fit into the narrative."

He continued, soothing your cries. "I was only getting rid of anyone who held your attention. I was drunk at that banquet but I still loathed how they befriended you so easily… I did it for you…

It's all for you."

[readerinsertfanfiction]

Hello, dearest Nemo. Inspired by a matter you're probably aware of, here I come, to ask you for certain opinion, although perhaps in form of HeadCanons... Let's say we have Ghibli Movies and the Warlords. Which movie would be each warlord's favourite? What do you think?

Ooooh, lil'Lorei remembers my obsession with Studio Ghibli movies, I see. (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)(. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)(. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku 

Characters: All - Kanetsugu because idk I can’t find shit on him only that he is a tsun.

Prompt: The warlords and studio Ghibli movies. Disclaimer: I only listed the movies I have watched, which is a fair amount but by no means all. 

To sit on the couch with a Sengoku warlord felt strange. No, it was definitely weird! All the more so when you put up a Studio Ghibli movie. Just any, because you felt like it. Little did you know that the warlord would take so well to it. He had been rather apprehensive at first, after all, moving pictures and that strange sound? But after a while the movies won him over. After all, who could resist the peaceful charm of Studio Ghibli, dreaming away at the romance of everyday life set in a beautiful landscape far away from all worry and chaos?

Nobunaga Oda: Spirited away

“The soot sprites have good taste,” the Oda leader pronounced, a proud smile etched on his face as he enjoyed the movie playing. On the screen the little black balls could be seen carrying off the konpeito, dancing around the little girl that had just lost her name to Yubaba, a move that Nobunaga had heartily laughed at. “I should consider doing this myself,” he had exclaimed, eyes glistening in mischief, “but I would rename them,” and to this remark you could only feel yourself sweatdrop, recalling the animal-inspired nicknames he tended to give his vassals.

Ieyasu Tokugawa: When Marnie was there

Something about the movie triggered something within him. The themes of loneliness, and constantly being moved around, but most of all, the trope of a found family and the concept of home. They resonated with his own childhood that he had resented so much. The past in which he was treated kindly, but also at times cruelly. All of these stories consolidated into one movie and two girls. “Marnie was weak,” he would later say, “good for Anna,” was his end review, but you could see the tears in the corner of his eyes. The movie had touched him.

Hideyoshi Toyotomi: Tales from Earthsea

A story of guilt and servitude? Prince Arren and the shadow that chases him? An inner fear, but yet a strong resolve to sacrifice all to reach ones goal? Hideyoshi is sold. The promise in the end is what gives that extra edge needed as Hideyoshi is weeping at the end of it all. “I will return to you, lord Nobunaga. I will repay all of my sins!” he wails and you know that he means it. Strangely enough, you have a feeling that Nobunaga would like the concept of ‘True Name’

Masamune Date: The wind rises

The story of a young boy whose dreams are shattered because of his weaknesses and then overcoming them? That’s his boy! Masamune has been cheering Jiro on since the opening of the movie and never stopped. Not until halfway through the movie and a frown settles on his face until the man has to gulp audibly to keep himself in check. All that chasing after a dream and the sacrifices made. It definitely hits a snare with the man who is quiet after the movie. He will need a cuddle or two.

Mitsuhide Akechi: Kiki’s delivery service

“There is just something about watching a little mouse grow up, isn’t there?” Mitsuhide teases with that lilting smile of his ever-present. But between the affectionate nickname and watching the movie there is something wistful about the man who sees the peaceful coming-of-age and finding identity and inspiration for live and passion within the little girl on her broom. He doesn’t say it, but he hopes that children in the future can grow up in such peace as Kiki does, able to adventure and a home to return to.

Kyubei: Whisper of the heart

Two kids chasing after their dreams, one set and the other just learning about it and a very capable cat that guides them. Kyubei enjoys the relationship that develops and the romance that comes with it, finding the fantasy element adorable. “I have a favourite person as well,” he tells you later with a mystifying smile, referring to the poster advertising the movie. A favourite person and a dream, he realises, which he hadn’t before.

Mitsunari Ishida: The secret world of Arrietty

“How very inventive!” the man constantly exclaims as he watches the little Arrietty move around in the garden. When she is fighting off bugs her own size Mitsunari clasps his hands together, as he rattles off on the many efficiencies they can make use of the bugs and employ the garden and the doll house. In the end Mitsunari feels only a little sad about Arrietty’s departure, though he has all faith that the friends will meet again, “is there a sequel,” he asks you for that, eager and beaming.

Keiji Maeda: Howl’s moving castle

Of course Howl’s theatrical ways are what enraptured the man at first, accompanied with Sophie’s determination and go-getters attitude. “That is no dull woman!” he exclaims happily as he watches the older sister fall to the curse cast by the witch. And though it is only vaguely implied Keiji comes to understand that it was something about the heart, just as Howl transforms because of his own heart. ‘A heart is a heavy burden.’ Sophie’s line catches him and Keiji agrees that Sophie’s hair is like starlight. He turns to you, however and tells you that you’re his starlight.

Ranmaru Mori: The cat returns

The cats, Baron the gentleman cat that just looks super cook and a whole slew of shenanigans about to happen. Secretly Ranmaru sees Kennyo in Baron, dreaming away watching his master be the cool hero that he was always meant to be. A little mysterious, totally awesome and can kick ass. Yes, that’s his favourite person!

Kennyo: My neighbour Totoro

There is something homely about the strange giant figure with its creepy smile and silent gestures. In fact, the whole movie endears the man. Two girls surrounded by the beauty of nature, growing up in peace and afraid of soot, catbus riding them to their mother. Kennyo can’t help but smile at the outrageousness of it all, finding it all very endearing. Secretly he thinks himself as Totoro, hiding in the forests and watching over the innocents.

Kenshin Uesugi: Princess Mononoke

A story about rulership, about how humanity ruins life eventually, about destruction and a lot of fighting. Kenshin loves it, especially for the last part. But as a former monk himself with a good appreciation for the gods and nature Kenshin relates to lady Eboshi who is willing to fight all if it means keeping her people safe and San, who fights to protect what she holds dear. He understands that and he relates to that.

Shingen Takeda: The tale of the princess Kaguya

A classic he is familiar with turned into an animation he has never experienced! Shingen loves it. Though he has to admit that he likes the story versions better he has a good appreciation for the artistry and the interpretation of the story, along with the pain of forgetting and leaving.

Yukimura Sanada: Porco Rosso

His favourite nickname turned into a character! Yukimura was flabbergasted at first, but then he came to understand that this was a spell of sorts, just as the movie itself was a trick of magic called science. But alas, that’s not why Yukimura was so in awe with the movie, it was the cool zeal in which the main character flies for his convictions. And somewhere deep down, though he will never admit such, the main character reminds him of Shingen.

Sasuke Sarutobi: Grave of the fireflies

Ah, the classic on which a whole generation was cruelly introduced to Studio Ghibli’s magic, the movie that started it all and above all: made everyone cry. Some may find him a bit of a weirdo to choose this as his favourite movie, after all it is such a sad movie. But it is the history, the message behind it, the themes dealt with and at last the pain and love of the siblings bereft by war. Sasuke’s heart is beaming just at the thought of the entire movie as his eyes start to tear up, dryly.

Kichou: Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind

There is no movie that quite agrees with him that the world is set out for doom than Nausicaä. The world is destroyed by humanity in a war, humans are still at war, but not only amongst each other for their greed but also with nature. Nature is trying to kill them for the sins committed by man. It all comes together and shows how the blight of this world truly is men and how the future that you come from is just an illusionary peace.

Yoshimoto Imagawa: Ocean Waves

Modern life poured into an artistic expression of young love. There is nothing quite more artistic than that in Yoshimoto’s opinion. The art is pretty, the story is enjoyable and not too riddled with all ugly traits and reminders of chaos and war and he gets to observe the modern world and its beauty a little more. Yes, Yoshimoto is indeed trying to forget about all the ugliness back in the Sengoku.

Motonari Mouri: Castle in the sky

Sky pirates, raiding a precious city, chaos overall and a booming ending? Sign him up. Motonari doesn’t really care for the main characters, finding them too sweet and innocent, but he has noticed that this is an overall trend within Studio Ghibli movies. Do, tell him more about the sky pirates, however and he definitely needs one of those flying machines.

[unfunny-quips]

Snippet from my (other) overly complicated Akeshu Time Loop fic where everyone except Akira (mostly) remembers the previous year:

Akechi Goro’s apartment was nothing like what Ann had expected it to be. Though admittedly her imagination had been a bit conflicted on what she should expect.

The shiny, polite Ace Detective facade he showed the world suggested she should expect a living space ripped straight out of a designer magazine. Attractive but stiff, nice to look at but difficult to actually live in let alone be comfortable in when visiting.

On the other hand, what she’d seen of his other side - the feral, blood thirsty and thoroughly nasty Black Mask - made her think of a dungeon like space. Chains on the walls, maybe one of those disturbing cluttered spaces shown on crime dramas when the heroes were hunting a serial killer. Pictures with blacked out eyes pinned to the walls, red string connecting disparate and terrifying thoughts and images, a collection of weapons on display.

What she got was…neither of those.

Shiho led her down the kind of pleasant residential area that put Ann in mind of the best kind of summers as a kid. A big park, open friendly faces, a community that seemed friendly and kind to each other. Shiho smiled and waved to a number of people on their way, the few they stopped to chat with for a bit telling her to give their hellos on to Akechi before letting them continue.

The apartment itself was the converted guest house in the back garden of what looked to be a cheerful family home. Ann counted no less than three fat cats lazing about and when they approached a delightfully plump old woman seated in a rocking chair on the front porch sat up from her reading to say hello and welcome Ann. Shiho called her Obaasan and rushed to give her a hug like she really was Shiho’s beloved grandmother before the old woman ushered them down the side path towards the back of the house.

“That’s Goro’s landlady, Shibata-San,” Shiho said as they walked the narrow path that led along the side of the house and through a truly beautiful garden. “She’s super sweet but has trouble with her arthritis sometimes. She gives Goro a deal on the rent since he helps her out so much around the house and with her gardening.”

Akechi Goro being nice to little old ladies. Ann wasn’t certain if that was exactly what she expected from the deranged killer pretending to be a charming teen detective or something so far out of the realm of expected as to be laughable. She chose to make a polite hmm noise of interest instead, not wanting to break the good mood Shiho was in by bringing up how very much Ann hated Akechi. She was rewarded by Shiho smiling warmly at her, which was really all the shorter girl would need to do to convince Ann to murder someone in Shiho’s name.

Shiho knocked at the door and Ann took a final calming breath to prepare her for the night that lay ahead of her. It was just a few hours, and she’d be there with Shiho and there would be plenty of other people to help buffer her from Akechi and Akira. Ann had helped shoot a god in the face once, she was ready for anything Akechi might throw at her over a few hours of talking about a book.

She wasn’t even close to ready, as it turned out.

The realization settled in the moment the door opened to reveal a yawning Akechi standing before her with messy hair and Featherman themed pajamas. Rumpled and clearly well worn Featherman pajamas.

Ann felt her eyes widen comically at the sight of the boy that had once been her and her team’s arch nemesis. A known and dangerous killer who had taken countless lives in the name of his twisted revenge scheme. 

He was wearing adorable unicorn slippers. Their horns were rainbow.

“Ah, Shiho!” Akechi said through his yawn, face stretching into a warm smile as he spotted the shorter girl on the other side of the threshold. “Just in time, I need help hauling Akira’s dead weight to the bedroom.” Ann watched him scratch lazily at his chin before blinking his attention over to her and offered another smile. It was a  brittle, plastic thing in comparison to the honest warmth he’d offered the shorter girl. All polish and teeth, no actual emotion. “And Takamaki-San, I’m so glad you could join us for the evening.”

He looked anything but, especially with the white knuckled grip he had on the door handle.

Ann offered a strained smile of her own. She’d made a promise to Shiho damnit and she’d see it through if it killed her. Or if Akechi killed her. Whatever. The point was that she was going to try damnit.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” She said as Akechi stepped back to allow them inside. Shiho gave a faint wince at the overly perky tone Ann had and shoot she’d overshot the enthusiasm a bit. Oh well. Better to be too excited than not enough. She followed Shiho’s lead in taking her shoes off and slipping on a pair of house slippers before turning her attention to the apartment itself.

It was…surprisingly cozy.

Ann was surprised too by the amount of clutter taking up the apartment. A laundry basket of half-folded, clean clothes sitting next to the couch, a knocked over bag tossed on a side table by the front door, more pillows and blankets than Ann would have expected making it seem like a nice place to curl up and read in. The apartment still managed to look tidy despite the half hearted attempt at organization.

Most of the space consisted of a living room with a tiny kitchenette tucked in a corner. There was a small nook beside the cooking area likely meant for dining. The small table placed there was taken over by a nice looking chess set, leaving no room for any actual dining. A small blackboard hung on the wall beside it, tallying victories of each player - tied, from what Ann could see, between Akechi and Kurusu. Other than that there were a couple doors leading to what she presumed to be a bedroom and a bathroom. 

It looked so remarkably normal.

Hardwood floors, plush rugs thrown everywhere, overstuffed bookshelves, pictures on the wall. There was a larger one hung over the couch showing off the entire book club smiling brightly at what looked like a cat cafe. Shiho, Akechi, Kurusu, Yoshizawa, even Togo Hifumi and Iwai’s son Kaoru. All of them squeezed together to fit, hands up in peace signs or giving each other bunny ears.

They looked normal. Just kids hanging out, enjoying each other’s company and reading books. It was hard to reconcile the photo with the mental image Ann had of several of the members as potential agents of Yaldabaoth.

Seeing how happy Shiho looked in the pictures didn’t help.

Ann pushed the thoughts away as best she could and followed other two to where a half asleep Akira was laid sprawled half under a large kotatsu. The delinquent had his head thrown back on the couch behind him, one of the many throw pillows Akechi apparently owned curled in his arms. She was surprised to see his usual oversized glasses he so often hid behind tossed haphazardly on the kotatsu. His eyes were closed, but he cracked one open when he heard them come over.

“M’fine here.” He muttered, curling up further around his pillow.

Akechi rolled his eyes. 

“There is a bed literally right there.” he pointed at one of the two closed doors for emphasis, mere steps away. Akira was already turning away and wiggling further beneath the kotatsu blanket. “Just go to bed Akira, no one else is even going to be here for another hour at least.”

Ann blinked. “What?” She turned from the drowsy Akira to Shiho, the shorter girl giving an unapologetic, challenging smile.

“Goro said we could come over early so you could get settled in!” Shiho said, chipper and all too aware of the fact that Ann had been banking on keeping her attention on other people in order to ignore Akechi. She really shouldn’t have been surprised. Shiho really did know her too well.

Akechi offered another brittle smile before turning his attention back to Akira, his expression softening again. Ann watched as the detective attempted to scoop the dark haired boy up, only for Akira to slip out of his grasp by going boneless, earning an undignified swear from the detective. 

Ann watched as the detective attempted to drag the delinquent away by an arm, amused as Shiho strolled over casually and hauled Akira up over her shoulder - pillow and all - in a fireman’s hold. She did it with such ease that Ann was a left little breathless at the show of strength. Akira wasn’t heavy by any measure but he was tall and she’d seen him working out at the gym the one time she went with Ryuji. The boy had muscle and that couldn’t be light. It didn’t matter to the short girl and her exceptional strength and well… Ann was weak to Shiho in so very many ways.

A few minutes later Akira had been safely stowed in a proper bed, the faint sound of soft snores heard from the dark haired delinquent before Shiho had even made it through the door. Which just left the three of them standing awkwardly in the living room.

Joy.

“I’m not nearly as good as Akira or Boss,” Akechi began, “But I can make a passable cup of coffee with what I’ve got here. Would you like one?”

There was a very real chance he might poison it. Ann nodded anyway to appease Shiho, resigned to the fact that she really was willing to do anything to see the shorter girl smile. 

Akechi shuffled towards the kitchenette in his ridiculous fluffy unicorn slippers and began fussing with the various coffee supplies that took up almost all of his very limited counter space. He was even nice enough to pull out a container of some cookies - a favorite brand of Ann’s on top of it - that hadn’t even been opened yet from a cupboard. She felt secure in the knowledge that those at least hadn’t been tampered with as she began happily devouring them.

“He’s still refusing to move in?” Shiho asked Akechi softly as she settled on the plush loveseat adjacent to the couch, tugging Ann down beside her. The dark haired girl pulled her feet up and under her, Shiho’s expression turning concerned as she watched Akechi work.

Akechi gave a soft sigh as he began boiling some water for the coffee. “He’s just so damn stubborn.” The detective said, shoulder’s drooping as he measured the freshly ground coffee out. “That place is killing him, but every time I bring it up he digs his heels in.”

Shiho gave a soft sigh before turning her attention to Ann to explain. “Akira is…” She paused, frowning, “His living situation is…bad.” Ann flicked her attention to Akechi as she heard him mutter a faint fucking understatement of the year under his breath. “Goro has offered to let him stay here but Akira’s worried that his record would hurt Goro’s reputation.”

“Oh,” Ann said, turning her attention on the delicate chocolate dipped cookie she held. Akira’s criminal record, that had been made public and well known by Mishima at Komashida’s request. Because Akira had stepped in and kept the teacher from getting to Shiho. Something Ann should have done. “Isn’t there something he can do? He’s staying with a guardian right? Couldn’t he just request to be moved under someone else?”

Akechi snorted bitterly. “Great idea, so that scam artist can report him as being “dangerous” and get him sent back to Juvie?” Red eyes turned to Ann, pinning her in place as Akechi’s mouth twisted into a sour frown. “You know about shitty adults. You know there really aren’t options like that for people in Akira’s position.”

Ann was struck again by the strange clash between what she expected from Akechi from the last run of the game and what he was showing her in this one. 

A facade of niceties for the camera, a howling soul of insanity for anyone who got in his way. Where, exactly, between those two extremes lay concern for a friend in a difficult position? Where did friends lay in that mess at all? Where did the cozy apartment, helping out an arthritic old lady, the weekly book club, the Featherman pajamas? Was there a graph somewhere that might map it all out? Or was she just supposed to guess at what was a real glimpse at the boy that had once murdered her friend’s father and what was an act to get what he wanted?

“Here,” Akechi said, and for a moment she half expected him to hand her the answers she wanted. He didn’t, of course, instead handing her a cup of coffee resting on a matching saucer. Both cup and saucer had cute chubby cats on them. “Cream? Sugar?”

She blinked and nodded, watching as he turned on his heel to get her what she asked for. Shiho beside her shifted where she sat, butting their shoulders together gently. Her face, when Ann met her gaze, was thoughtful. Considering Ann as if she was the puzzle and not the serial killer juggling a carton of cream and an oversized container of sugar across the room. Trying to stow her apprehension away for the night, Ann offered her friend the best honest expression she could while knowing how many lies she’d given the shorter girl over the past months. 

Shiho’s expression shifted slowly, the look in her dark eyes difficult to read. Ann watched as the other girl turned to sip at her coffee. Shiho didn’t even wait for it to cool. She always liked her drinks hot enough to scald.

“You know, maybe it’s the way you’re asking.” Shiho said, the complicated emotions Ann glimpsed the moment before shuffled away as the dark haired girl turned a devious smile on Akechi.

The detective looked weary and wary all at once. “Shiho…” His tone had something like a weak warning to it, though the bite Ann was used to hearing from him was absent.

“I’m just saying,” Shigo said, looking delighted, “You’re asking him to move in with you as a friend.”

“Don’t.” Akechi said, it might have been sharp and snapping if it wasn’t for the color rising high on the boy’s cheeks. Ann blinked in bewilderment. Was Akechi Goro blushing?

“Just ask him to be your boyfriend already!” Shiho said, all cheer and delight with an undercurrent of something challenging directed at the now definitely blushing Akechi. “We all saw you two kiss at the ice rink! It’s not like the thing between you it’s a secret!”

Ann choked on the cookie she’d just popped into her mouth. Akechi - so red that Ann was fairly certain he was going to turn purple soon - made a high pitched squeak and buried his face in his hands.

Well that put a new light on things.

“You kissed Kurusu?!” Cookies crumbs went flying as she spoke but Ann didn’t care. The news was just too big to be taken in calmly. Makoto had suspected that Kurusu, a known criminal, was a pawn in Akechi’s devious plan and the rest of the group had been thinking the same. Morgana suggested that the dark haired boy might even be the new player they’d been warned about.

At no point at any of them considered Akechi could be so human as to simply just like Kurusu.

“It’s not that - you’re taking things out of context!” Akechi almost wailed, not a psychopath ready to kill at a drop of a hat but an embarrassed teenage boy being teased about his crush.

Shiho laughed, “You two held hands!” 

“I didn’t know how to skate! Kurusu was helping me balance!”

“You stayed on the ice during the couple’s song!”

“We just didn’t want to get off the ice!”

“You stopped, in the middle of the rink, looked deep into each other’s eyes while holding hands and kissed.”

As if to drive her point home, Shiho lifted her phone to show a picture - a bit blurry at the edges but clear enough to make out - of Akechi and Kurusu definitely having a sweet, romantic kiss on the ice. Clearly completely oblivious of the world around them as they did so. It was possibly the cutest thing Ann had ever seen.

Any idea Ann ever had of Akechi Goro being intimidating was thrown right out the window.

[birbleafs]

[fic] A Tragicomedy In Five Acts

Series: Saiki Kusuo no Ψ-nan || The Disastrous Life of Saiki K. Rating: T Genre: Friendship, Humour, Breaking the Fourth Wall Character(s): Akechi Touma, Saiki Kusuo, Saiki Kurumi, Saiki Kuniharu, Saiki Kuusuke Warnings: None, save for the canon-typical shenanigans Summary: Akechi has made a habit of showing up unannounced, uninvited at the Saiki residence. The inevitable "bonding" occurs and Kusuo despairs; the world continues to turn. A/N: A piece I wrote for the Disastrous Life Zine, a charity zine. I wanted to share the uncut version here since I like how it reads more (it's not too different from zine version, though). Leftover sales are currently still live, so here's your last chance to grab some limited items if you had missed the pre-orders earlier! Thanks to the mods & other contributors over at @disastrouslifezine, for all their hard work on this project. Many thanks also to my bro Digi for the awesome beta work and for always being an all-round great pal ❤ Fic can also be read AO3. _______ i. It’s a problem Saiki Kusuo should have—could have—nipped earlier in the bud, when he’d been forced to spend a whole Sunday with Akechi Touma betting on horse-racing. But between Akechi being (begrudgingly) accepted as one of the PK Psychickers to Kusuo having to stop a meteor from slamming into the planet—well, a lot had happened. Akechi had since taken to visiting the Saiki residence at random, with little notice in advance. On his second visit, Mom had invited him in before Kusuo could intervene. If it weren’t for the cupcakes Akechi had brought along—not to mention the terrifying heat of Mom’s demonic glare at the first sign of a protest—Kusuo would have teleported him miles away without hesitation. That’s how Kusuo finds himself now—glowering at Akechi who’s sitting politely in his room and firing a running commentary about nothing and too many things all at once. Resigned, he leans back into his study chair and asks, point-blank: What do you want, Akechi?

“Your mother is lovely as always,” Akechi replies instead, dancing around the question. “I’m grateful she’s gone from remembering me as ‘Pee Boy’ to ‘Kusuo’s Friend Who Only Ever Wets His Pants Occasionally’. Surely that’s a sign we have gotten closer.” It sounds just as terrible as the first—only a simpleton would be okay with that as a defining trait, Kusuo retorts. In any case, we’re hardly more than classmates. So, why are you here again? “I thought you would have realized it by now with your telepathy. But I suppose I can explain it for the sake of the readers!” Akechi beams, holding up a small case in his hand. Don’t just casually break the fourth wall, Kusuo frowns, even as he leans forward for a closer look. Akechi pops the case open and turns towards the game console. “I was recently gifted this game by my cousin, who assured me that, while underrated, it’s still a cult hit among fans. I thought it would be fun to play it together.” Kusuo stares flatly at the title OVERWORKED displayed on the disc as it slides into the console drive, already unimpressed. That is such a blatant rip-off. “Oh, no, it's a completely different game from the one you’re thinking of!” Akechi says. “Here you play as the overworked waiter of a cafe who serves multiple orders at once and takes over the cooking whenever the head chef throws a tantrum and storms right off.” How is that different from OVERC***ED? It is totally OVERC***ED! “Regardless, shall we have a play-off?” Akechi offers the controller to him. “Winner gets this box of cupcakes. I got them from the best pâtisserie in town, which is no easy feat. Why just this morning I left home at the crack of dawn to secure a spot in the queue, and even then, there were already about 30-odd people ahead of me! Who knew it was so popular—A-ah!” Kusuo yanks the controller easily from Akechi’s hand towards him with telekinesis, a glint of determination in his eyes now. Best two out of three levels. Loser also has to leave immediately. Akechi grins knowingly and cracks his knuckles, reaching for the second controller. “You’re quick to assume victory, Kusuo-kun. Very well, then!” Thirty-seven minutes later and Kusuo’s left staring at the final scores, appalled. He would have won if his character hadn’t kept freezing in place and glitching at crucial moments, messing up in the kitchens and sending out wrong orders. How is he always losing to Akechi like this? Clearly the universe is still conspiring against him. “You were so close to beefing my lask score dhoo,” Akechi says shamelessly through a mouthful of strawberry frosting. “And my, deez fupfakes are s’per dhasty!” Are you taunting me now? Kusuo scowls enviously at the cupcake in Akechi’s hand before he huffs, slinking back into his chair. Well, I’ll be staring dejectedly out my window for a bit, so feel free to eat your cupcakes and then leave. But Akechi only laughs then and, to Kusuo’s surprise, moves to place a chocolate cupcake before him. “You’re so melodramatic, Kusuo-kun. I never said the winner can’t share.” ... I guess you didn’t. They spend the rest of the afternoon eating cupcakes. _______ ii. This again? It’s been a month, but Kusuo already feels a sense of gloom settling over him when Akechi steps into the genkan. He would have been fine with leaving Akechi outside blathering away through closed doors for the entire day while he pretended not to be home, but obviously Mom is having none of that. “I’m so glad you’ve been coming over to play with Ku-chan!” she greets cheerfully. “I couldn’t believe it when I first heard, but you and Kusuo are getting along well, huh, Akechi-kun!” Dad says with a sagely nod, looking every bit the part of the morally upright, reliable father. Bold of you to believe such delusional notions of camaraderie, or that you even look the part of an admirable adult, Kusuo comments drily, before turning to leave. “We don’t just get along,” Akechi chimes in reply. “You could even say our friendship is super-califragilisticexpialidocious!” GET OUT. If looks could kill, Kusuo’s current expression is pure genocide. But his parents are already fawning and AH-HYUU-!!-ing at Akechi’s words, tears of joy gushing down their cheeks like an endless waterfall. Kusuo watches in quiet despair as Akechi is readily accepted into their fold with welcomed embraces, a key development in this romantic soap opera. Oi, what’s with the misleading narrative?! We’re not in that kind of fanfic right now! Dad and Akechi hit it off well enough, one thing leads to another, and Kusuo suddenly finds himself roped into playing MECH-O ARENA VR on the WAB station in Dad’s study. Seriously, stop it with the terrible rip-offs of actual games already, Kusuo frowns as he watches Dad’s and Akechi’s characters flitting about on the screen to fight off an incoming attack. “I suppose it’s not very original, is it?” Akechi says, punching the controller buttons in a flurry of movements. “But it’s different enough that we can probably avoid any unwanted copyright lawsuits.” That’s completely beside the point. Dad’s wholly immersed with the game now, so it’s impossible for Kusuo to get rid of Akechi without Dad throwing a childish fuss about losing his new gaming buddy. Not to mention Mom’s uncanny ability to appear with coffee and snacks each time Kusuo had tried to inconspicuously retreat back into his room, all while exuding an ominous aura that effectively dissuaded his need to leave immediately. Good grief—everyone’s being such a pain today, Kusuo sighs, before he finally relents to Mom’s cajoling to team up with her against Dad and Akechi in the final round. He figures it can’t get worse than this anyway. That is, until Kuusuke gets involved. _______ iii. When Kusuo returns home from a quick grocery trip for Mom, he walks into a surprisingly empty living room. He can hear Dad and Kuusuke’s voices from upstairs but for some reason he’s not quite able to perceive the atmosphere within—it’s as if his senses are partially blocked by a cognitive fog with the study engulfed in a dead zone. Must be that prototype “router” Kuusuke had installed in Dad’s study yesterday. Kusuo has zero interest in his brother’s tiresome antics, but is compelled nonetheless to check on them, if only to ensure Kuusuke isn’t playing Mad Scientist and coaxing Dad into yet another deranged human project. He opens the door, nearly lashes out in shock with telekinesis when he sees Akechi staring through the doorway with a creepy, owlish expression. “Oh, were you actually surprised, Kusuo-kun?” Akechi says. “My apologies for frightening you like that.” Kusuo studies the room cautiously, only to realize he’s unable to hear anyone’s thoughts with telepathy. He glares at his brother in suspicion. “Welcome back, little brother!” Kuusuke greets him with a Cheshire grin. “I see you’ve got yourself a new playmate. Hmm? Ah, you must think it strange that I've taken to Akechi-kun so readily.” Strange and highly dubious, Kusuo counters. What are you scheming? “Well, Akechi-kun shows the most potential and capacity for mental growth amongst the lesser primates close to you—” What a disparaging worldview. And stop deflecting! I know you can still understand me. “—So, he may yet make a good test subj—Ah, I mean, a good friend! Interesting specimens tend to gravitate towards you, after all. Though his propensity for peeing sure is troubling, isn’t it? Haha!” You can excuse questionable human experimentations, but you draw the line at incontinence? Kuusuke attempts a nonchalant shrug. “Priorities, amirite?” “But this is amazing, Kuusuke-san,” Akechi says, glancing up in awe at the blinking device on the ceiling. “The telepathy canceller really does block our thoughts efficiently!” “It’s child's play compared to Kusuo’s abilities,” Kuusuke says, seemingly modest, but Kusuo doesn’t miss the devious glint in his eyes when he reaches into his coat pocket to pull out what looks suspiciously like a detonator with a giant red button. “Still, with this, Operation SM☆SH can now finally commence—” Wait, Operation what?? Kuusuke, don’t you dare...! But Kuusuke is already pressing the button, and the study is plunged into darkness as the lights flicker off and the blinds draw shut. Alarmed, Kusuo wrenches the detonator away from Kuusuke’s grip with his telekinesis. What did you just do?! There’s an electronic whirr, a blinding flash, and Kusuo finds himself suddenly staring at a large LCD screen as it emerges from the ceiling. Music blares from overhead speakers as a cinematic opening sequence begins to play. “There you are, Kusuo!” Dad looks up from behind the coffee table where he’d been fiddling with the game console. He adjusts the VR headset over his eyes. “It’s time to finally beat you at SUPER SM☆SH BUDS as payback for last time! HII-YAAAH!!” ... Oh. So it’s just another game. “That’s right!” Kuusuke claps his hands together, blissfully ignoring the heat of Kusuo’s baleful glare. “I heard about your horse-racing bet from Akechi-kun and found this as the best way to even the odds for other types of games.” “The idea came to me while peeing in the shower; to find ways you could play and not get bored easily, Kusuo-kun,” Akechi adds in unnecessary detail. “But I didn’t think Kuusuke-san could actually pull it off.” “Here, Kusuo,” Dad says, waving his controller. “Come choose your character—” But Kusuo’s already teleporting away, fleeing the wretched upheaval within his own home to hide at Cafe Mami for the rest of the day. _______ iv. Akechi corners him after school three weeks later. Kusuo is surprised and unsurprised all at once; he had worn the germanium ring to class, after all, in a bid to avoid spoilers for the direct-to-streaming release movie adaptation of a book he’d been fond of. It’s easy to ignore everyone’s spoilery chatter when it isn’t droning directly into his mind—he’d kept his fingers stuck into  his ears each time class ended, oblivious to the strange looks thrown his way, and had even hidden away in the restroom cubicle during breaks, successfully avoiding any interaction with the usual human nuisances. Until now, that is. “Let’s walk home together, Kusuo-kun!” Akechi calls, jogging after him. I’m suddenly deaf and sound has eluded me, Kusuo deadpans as he breaks into a sprint, determined to leave before Akechi starts blabbing spoilers. “I noticed you weren’t quite yourself today,” Akechi continues, catching up with him.  “And I thought it might have something to do with the ring on your left index finger that you’ve fondled precisely seventeen times throughout the day.” What an awful way to describe it. I didn’t fondle anything. “Perhaps the material of that ring works in the same manner as the telepathy canceller—which would explain why you seemed uncharacteristically skittish today since you’re pretty bad at discerning people’s intentions without your telepathy.” What are you? A psychic? But Akechi only persists. “I realized later that you’d always leave whenever anyone started talking about that new movie on Netfl*x—” Can’t hear now, Kusuo slaps his hands over his ears. Gone horribly deaf. “And I figured it must be that you haven’t watched it yet for some reason, like maybe your home internet is down because your father forgot to pay the bills for three whole months and so it got cut—” How did you even..? Kusuo grimaces. N-nope, not listening! 100% deaf! “I know you don’t have a mobile phone to watch it on either,” Akechi continues. “So, that’s why I wanted to invite you to my house today, to watch it together. Oh, don’t worry, I know absolutely nothing about the movie. In fact, I’d only heard Kaidou-kun screaming out the title just ten minutes ago.” Kusuo pauses then, glancing back at Akechi in hesitance. Akechi only meets his wary gaze with a knowing smirk, and says, “We also have strawberry shortcake in the fridge.” _______ v. I don’t suppose there’s a good reason this time either, Kusuo sighs wearily, closing his book. Still, there’s a glimmer in his eyes; he knows Akechi had come bearing gifts—a selection of coffee jellies topped with cherries and chocolate drizzle. “I’ve made a habit of crashing your place unannounced, haven’t I?” Akechi offers a contrite grin, watching as Kusuo helps himself to a spoonful of jelly. “I do apologize, but whenever I get restless, I find myself wandering here by instinct. Admittedly, I was worried about being a bother, but your mother is always so welcoming at the door despite that dreary, constipated look in your eyes—” You are being a bother. Like a persistent mosquito that thinks it's summer all year round, Kusuo grouses with his Most Annoyed Expression, knowing how ineffectual his Feigning Ignorance Face had become over time. Also, have you graduated from pee references to shitty jokes now? Disgusting. But Akechi takes it all in stride, undeterred by Kusuo’s ugly grimace and acerbic jibes. “—Plus, it’d be considered extremely rude if I didn’t come in after that, and I certainly do not want you to think of me as rude. You’re a friend I hold in high regard, after all. I always have, ever since I found out it was you who saved me from the bullies back then.” The earnestness in Akechi’s words stumps him, if only a little. And though Kusuo is careful to keep his surprise from showing, there’s a part deep down in his not-so-granite heart that feels a touch of warmth at the sentiment. Akechi’s already placing the Scrabble board on the floor, so he misses the ghost of a smile that crosses Kusuo’s lips. Did Akechi honestly think he could beat a psychic at Scrabble too? How naive. “You’re probably thinking how naive I must be, believing I could beat you at a board game with your powers and all,” Akechi notes cheerfully, almost as if he’s a mind-reader himself. Kusuo frowns, slightly disgruntled by the fourth-wall breaking once more and wishes they would give it a rest for once. Overusing a trope gets really tiring, you know? Still, he smiles again as he takes a seat across from Akechi—who is now shuffling the Scrabble chips while nattering away about the history of board games and how the loser would have to give up his share of coffee jelly (as if Kusuo would allow it to come to that again). Two Sunday visits per month only, Kusuo says, lifting several chips into the air with a wave of his hand. If you beat me... I’ll allow it. Akechi’s eyes widen, before he breaks into a playful grin. “Very well, then. May the best man win.” Kusuo only lets out a soft laugh. Perhaps it’s not too late to pick up where they had left off in grade school. —End—

[thepancakeboi]

112. “Quit looking at me with that stupid expression. You’re pissing me off.”

“I’m going to kill you for this, Ren.”

“Will you really?” Ren, my overly smug boyfriend, asks as cheekily as possible.

I scowl up at him, knowing that I won’t. Even if the situation I find myself in is not one of my choosing.

I had woken up this morning to the sound of my phone’s notification sound at around nine. To my surprise, it was Ren texting me. He’s not the type to wake up early when it’s not a school day. It read: “Come to Leblanc quick it’s urgent”.

A little concerned, I replied: “I am on my way”. I wondered why it was so imperative that I go to Leblanc. Hopefully, nothing serious happened. I quickly prepared for the day and changed into my typical uniform before leaving my apartment in Kichijoji.

When I arrived about forty minutes later, I was shocked to see the sign was still flipped to “closed”. That was odd. Leblanc was usually open by now. Tentatively, I opened the door and peeked in. Sojiro Sakura was nowhere to be seen, and Ren wasn’t there either. “Ren?” I called out, looking around the empty cafe.

“Up here,” Ren’s voice replied from up in the attic. I climbed the stairs, wondering what he wanted that required me to come here.

Nothing had me prepared for this.

Ren was sitting on his bed dressed in what could best be described as a policewoman’s outfit. He went so far as to wear a black wig and pantyhose...and he even had handcuffs hanging from his waist. Where he got any of this, I had no idea, nor was I going to ask. I raised an eyebrow at Ren’s getup. “What the hell is this?”

“What’s what?” he asked, dark red lips twisted in a teasing smirk at my startled expression. Yes, he was wearing lipstick. Of course. “Your...outfit.”

“Oh, this?” He stood up and walked over to me, slinking an arm around my waist. I instantly noticed he was taller than me. Of course, that was only because of the heels on his knee-high boots. He just had to be taller. “I’m arresting you because you’re criminally gorgeous.”

My face flushed, only made worse as his free hand fiddled absentmindedly with the handcuffs. “Aren’t you worried Sakura-san will be back soon? Does he even know about...this?”

“No. He took Futaba out to Akihabara for the day. They won’t be back until tonight.” He grinned. “It’s just the two of us...anything could happen.”

“What did you want?” I asked while backing away, wanting to change the discussion before I became too flustered by Ren’s incessant flirting. “You said it was, and I quote, ‘urgent’. I hope it wasn’t just to show me this.”

“I need you to do something for me.”

“What is it?”

“It’s important.”

I crossed my arms. “I’m not doing anything unless you tell me what it is.”

“Okay. I need you to crossdress for me.” “Wh-What!?” I sputtered, flabbergasted. Surely I misheard him, right?

“Akeppi, darling, love of my life, I need you to crossdress for me,” he repeated as he pulled me close to him once again.

“Why would I agree to such an inane suggestion?”

“Cuz you love me.”

“No. I’m not crossdressing. Anything but that.”

He gasped as if seeing a perfect opportunity. “Does that mean you’ll finally admit to being a bottom?”

“Absolutely not,” I growled. “Especially when it’s completely untrue.”

“Mmm...keep telling yourself that. I totally believe you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what you think.”

That was it. I had enough of this nonsense, especially when it wasn’t as urgent as Ren made me believe. “I’ll be leaving now.”

“Wait, at least let me explain-”

“No,” I interrupted, trying to push away from him. However, he refused to let go. “Get off!” Of course, he didn’t listen. I squirmed, trying to get free. The struggle itself was a blur, but it ended with us on the floor, Ren straddling me and my arms pinned down by his hands holding my wrists.

Given the current situation, I think my false threat to kill Ren is justified.

I’m not going to kill him, though. I know it. He knows it. Hell, I’m sure just about everyone knows by now. “Ren, please get off of me. If you do, then we can discuss this.”

“You’re lying.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ll run as soon as I do.”

“You bastard,” I snap. He’s correct, of course. I would have bolted as soon as my arms were free. He sees right through me and my lies so easily. I hate it. My scowl deepens as he gives that self-satisfied little menace smile of his. “Quit looking at me with that stupid expression. You’re pissing me off.”

“But I’m enjoying seeing you like this. And I think you’re enjoying it, too,” he adds in a low whisper.

“Bullshit. I’m not.”

“You’re wrong,” Ren says in the smuggest tone imaginable. “If you weren’t, wouldn’t you have kept fighting?”

I simply glare up at him, refusing to answer that question. Instead, I say, “Go ahead. Explain. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Ryuji lost a bet to Ann, and he asked Yusuke and me to join in. I thought it would be fun.”

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: you have a twisted concept of fun.”

I pay for that comment when he playfully ruffles my hair. He remembers that day as vividly as I do. For a split second, I have the opportunity to try and escape again. It’s at that moment when Ryuji walks in, looking absolutely ridiculous in what is clearly an attempt to imitate Ann. “Speak of the devil,” I hiss, shoving Ren off of me while he’s distracted by Ryuji. “I refuse to have any part in your shenanigans.”

“Wait, you told him!?” Ryuji asks.

Ren nods happily. “Yup!”

“What the hell, man!? Why’d you do that?”

“I wanted Akeppi to join us. I was trying to convince him.”

“For real!?” The grin that crosses Ryuji’s face is nothing short of terrifying. “Sounds good to me.”

“Absolutely not,” I interject, finally pushing myself to my feet. “I will not be joining you three in this escapade.”

“No way, man. If I have to do this, then so do you!”

“I’m not the one who lost a bet. You can forget me being a part of this.”

“Renren, help me out here,” Ryuji says, turning to Ren.

A look passes between them, one full of silent schemes and unspoken commands. I need to move...now. I make a mad dash for the stairs just as the duo lunge at me. Ryuji manages to grab me just as I pass by him, pulling my arms behind my back. I thrash and squirm as erratically as possible, trying to throw Ryuji off. He’s stronger than I give him credit for. All I’m managing to do is tire myself out.

I fight fiercely against Ryuji’s hold for a solid minute, cursing all the while. Ren, meanwhile, just watches in mild amusement. Fucking traitor. “Want me to use these?” Ren asks as my struggles start to grow weaker, gesturing to the handcuffs. I don’t miss the mischievous smirk hiding behind that mask of neutrality.

“Dude, no. I got this!” Ryuji replies. His grip tightens as he pulls me back. My endeavors cease. This is getting me nowhere. “Just do your thing.”

Ren immediately grins, knowing it’s his time to shine. All I can do is give him a glare full of malice. He remains unfazed. “Come on, Akeppi. Please?” Ren whispers softly and seductively in my ear.

I avert my gaze as I respond, “No.”

“Please?” He’s still using that damn sexy tone of voice, only now he’s running a hand through my hair. It’s distracting. A deadly combination that is...completely...utterly...distracting-

“Fine, fine,” I say before it becomes any worse. Ren nods, signaling Ryuji to release me. I stalk off to a different corner of the room, looking pointedly at Ren as I add, “But no pictures. Got it?”

“Aww.” Ren pouts, but he’s not going to persuade me that easily.

“I’m gonna wait for Kitakita,” Ryuji says, heading downstairs. “He’s prolly still doin’ his makeup.”

Satisfied that it’s just the two of us, I unbutton and shrug off my jacket, placing it gently on Ren’s bed. I freeze as Ren comes up behind me and loosens my tie. He tosses it unceremoniously next to the jacket, coming around to be in front of me. He starts to undo the top few buttons of my dress shirt only to stop partway through. What is he even planning? With a smirk, he starts to run a hand along the now-exposed skin, sending my nerves haywire. “Wh-What are you doing?”

“Just admiring my prisoner,” he hums, continuing to feel up my body. With a roll of my eyes, I undo the rest of the buttons since clearly he’s no longer helping.

After nearly an hour of Ren getting me dressed, doing my hair, and doing my makeup, the deed is done. I glare at the proffered mirror, snatching it with a lace-gloved hand. There are so many layers in this pastel blue dress that fits surprisingly well, and that’s not even including the gray petticoat peeking out from underneath. Ren had added in hair extensions to make my hair look like twin drills. The hair color matches perfectly. It’s almost unnerving. I give Ren a cold look as I hand the mirror back. “Was the black lipstick truly necessary?”

“Yes. You look absolutely adorable!”

“Shut up,” I snap, looking away from him.

“Aww, look at my little tsundere pancake~”

“Your what!?”

“You heard me. You’re my little tsundere pancake.”

I’m about to argue against that, but I hear footsteps coming up the stairs. This time, Ryuji is accompanied by Yusuke. Besides the taller boy’s ninja-inspired outfit, I notice the two of them are holding hands. I’ll have to ask Ren about this later. “I’m sorry I’m late,” Yusuke apologizes. “I got off a stop early to try and save money.”

“Yusuke, just let me give you money,” Ren whines. “You know I have plenty from our time in the Metaverse.”

“You know I could not accept such a generous offer.”

“You complete, utter fool,” I mutter.

Ryuji gives me the evil eye as he yells, “Shuddup, Akechi! You’ve no right to say anything!”

“Excuse me!?”

“Hey. Be nice,” Ren says before we can escalate this argument further.

“Sorry, man,” Ryuji says. I just stew in silence. I’m not wrong. Yusuke should just accept Ren’s offer rather than continue to reject the aid. “Hey, shouldn’t we call Ann?”

“I’ll do it,” Ren replies. He pulls out his phone and walks downstairs, leaving me with his two crossdressing accomplices.

“So, what did Renren get you into?” Ryuji asks with a sick smirk.

“I have no idea, nor do I care,” I snap.

He shrugs before turning to Yusuke. “Kitakita, you know what it is?”

“Ah, yes, the Hime Lolita style! Its elegance suits him quite remarkably.”

“The what style?”

“Hime...it means ‘princess’,” I hiss through gritted teeth.

“Ooh!” Ryuji laughs as he adds, “Detective Prince? More like Detective Princess!”

“Shut it, Sakamoto,” I reply, still irritable from earlier.

“Nah, this is fun!”

“Your concept of fun is almost as bad as Ren’s.”

“Hey, at least my boyfriend’s okay with it.”

“Indeed, I am,” Yusuke responds. I guess I don’t have to ask Ren later about the two of them holding hands.

Ren comes back upstairs a few seconds later. “Ann will be here in a few minutes. She doesn’t know about Goro, though.”

“You didn’t tell her?” Yusuke questions.

“No. I wanted it to be a surprise. We should probably go downstairs,” Ren adds, holding out a hand to help me out. I smack his hand away. There is no way I am accepting his help. I push myself to my feet, a little unsteady due to the heels on these stupid shoes. They still don’t make me taller than Ren in his boots, though. Of fucking course.

“Are you both really wearin’ heels?” Ryuji asks skeptically.

I shake my head, looking at Ryuji as I reply, “Remember that this wasn’t my choice.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

We all head downstairs. This time, I do reluctantly accept his help with wobbling over to the stairs. I’m not Ren. I didn’t run around fighting Shadows in the Metaverse in heels. As soon as we reach them, Ren grins and picks me up bridal style, walking downstairs in heels with unnatural ease. For once, I’m not complaining. The less I have to walk in these heels, the better. I do give him an unamused look when he refuses to put me down, but I don’t say a word.

Ann arrives a couple of minutes later. “Hi!” she says in greeting. “Oh my god, that’s great, Ryuji!”

“What about those guys? Kitakita and Renren were more eager about it than me,” Ryuji grumbles.

“I couldn’t believe it when you told me they were doing it, too! You two are looking good as ever, and-” At that point, two and two seem to click in Ann’s brain. The genuine shock on her face is priceless. She stammers, “W-Wait, Akechi? Is that you?”

“Hey,” I sigh.

“Wow, you look amazing! Did Ren help?”

“Help?” I scoff. “He’s the only reason I did this.”

“I can be quite persuasive,” Ren adds, nuzzling me. “Doesn’t he look cute?”

“He does!” Ann agrees.

“I do not,” I shoot back. I scowl, but I’m sure I probably look like a pouting child.

“Adorable,” Ren repeats, beaming.

I sigh in annoyance, crossing my arms as I look pointedly away from them. Despite my outward irritation, I can’t help but feel...happy. Yes, I’m happy that he finds me cute and adorable. His loving remarks hold some power over me, a power that I know Ren won’t abuse. He’s not Shido. Ren actually means each and every compliment he gives. “Ren, give Ann your phone. I’ll let you have one picture.”

The grin on Ren’s face could make even the most despondent of individuals smile. Maybe I could live with this.

Prompt list

[morimocha]

POINT OF VIEW

PAIRING: persona 5 protag (akira/ren)/akechi goro

SUMMARY: time changes, but apparently, goro doesn't, and ren doesn't know how to feel about it.

WORD COUNT: 782

i had way too much fun writing this... since the protag doesn't exactly have a set personality, but we know he's a bit cocky, so i figured he likely mellowed out a little after the events of the game. thus i.. made him a bit baby, ehehe ;;;;; i hope you enjoy!

Akechi Goro. The kind of pretty, cocky, messed up bastard you love to hate. It's been over a year since Ren last saw the shining prince of a detective or whatever his title was. It wasn't the sort of thing Ren kept track of. But he can keep track of the way nothing has changed when it came to him.

The second he sets eyes on Goro, sitting near the large window of a coffee shop, he forgets why he's even in Tokyo again in the first place. He notes the carefree way he sits with his legs crossed, leaning back in his seat as he reads some sort of tabloid. He raises a mug to his lips, too pretty and pink for Ren's liking, eyes lidded while he flips the page.

Ren swallows thickly and tries to look away, but his gaze falls back time and time again. Something about the way Goro looks the same as he did all the time ago, yet still being nearly ethereal with his natural beauty, makes butterflies flit in Ren's stomach. He doesn't even realize he had stopped walking until a young punk shoulder checks him with a scoff.

He rubs the point of impact and looks after the youth with a sigh. The brash nature of the child reminds him of Ryuji, and his mind starts working again. He's here to visit Ryuji and Futaba, as the others were all busy. He isn't here to stare at Goro.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ren catches movement that stands out from the normal bustle. He looks over to see the star detective waving at him in a too-friendly way, and his heart skips again. He forces himself to start shuffling forward to meet his friends at the agreed location, but spots one last motion from Goro that sends him stumbling over himself.

Goro just blew him a kiss.

Akechi Goro just blew a kiss to the guy he once tried to kill.

And Ren was all too here for it.

By the time Ren gets to the meeting spot, his friends are already waiting there, seemingly fighting with each other. Futaba is laying across Ryuji's back as he sits on the ledge of a tall planter, reaching for the phone in his hands, and he holds it out of her reach while laughing almost hysterically. Futaba's face is flushed red and Ren can't tell if it's from exertion or embarrassment. He guesses it's both after she manages to snatch the phone back, scurrying to the other side of the planter and tapping away in a hurry.

Ryuji rubs at his neck before he sees Ren standing there, and in an instant, Ren finds himself in a headlock, hair being ruffled by an excited fist. 

"Ren! How long has it been now?" Ryuji's shouting as Ren pulls away, adjusting his glasses and fixing his hair.

Futaba pulls her knees to her chest and grins mischievously. "Look who showed up! You're like… ten minutes late."

Ren pulls at the collar of his shirt. "Ah, yeah… I got lost on the way."

"Lost in Akechi's eyes, huh?"

Ren loses his sense of balance as Ryuji says this, and he stumbles to sit on the planter as his friends laugh at him. Futaba sounds just as embarrassed as he feels, and she pulls up her messages. That's when Ren sees an exchange between two familiar text styles. One is unmistakably Futaba by the way she randomly inputs numbers in the place of letters. And the other is painfully formal and signed with two initials. Goro's initials.

[ FUTABA: 00oo0gh y is r3n late!!!

GORO: Perhaps because he was staring at me? -A.G.

FUTABA: n0 way

FUTABA: rlly!!!!!!

GORO: Yes, really. He looked very cute and embarrassed. -A.G. ]

Pushing the phone away, Ren covers his face with his other hand, and Ryuji pokes fun at how red he is. He couldn't possibly read anymore, despite how many more messages there were.

Futaba turns her screen off and tucks her phone in her pocket. "We should invite him if you wanna keep--"

"It's fine!" Ren pushes out before she can finish. "I'm here for a week, s-so I can see him later if I want to."

Futaba nearly speaks, but she's cut off before she can start by a loud groan from Ryuji. She leans over to smack his arm and he sticks his tongue out at her, slinging an arm around the back of Ren's neck.

"Enough about Akechi! Let's go fuck around already!"

"I'm with Ryuji on this one." Ren hurries to chime in.

"Yeah, alright. Let's hit up a food joint first, I'm starving."

[sennaleee]

(Heyo, here’s a P5 Akira/Akechi omo fic that I wrote entirely for myself despite having a ridiculous number of requests for different things please don’t kill me. ;~; I have a HUGE note regarding my thoughts about timeline, my opinions on these characters and their relationship, and other things, but it was such a Long Explanation that I didn’t want it at the beginning of the fic. If that’s something that interests you, please scroll all the way to the bottom of the fic for that!

Short version with the most important stuff: This ain’t a shippy fic, but I do ship Akechi/Protagonist and like Akechi as a character despite him being a villain. Based on timeline, Akechi is suspicious Akira is a Phantom Thief but doesn’t know for sure, and Akira hasn’t yet figured out that Akechi knows about the metaverse and is a persona user (probs takes place between Kuneshiro’s and Futaba’s palaces, but exact date doesn’t really matter). There are no spoilers for P5 Royal in this fic.

Also gotta admit this is 100% self-indulgent nonsense, so if you're looking for something Deep and unquestionably In Character, this probably ain't it. Honestly, I just wanted to get back onto the writing train, and doing something entirely for myself was the best way to do that lololol. (also upon rereading this to edit, I realize that Akechi is entirely ooc whoops please just accept this for what it is because I don’t want to rewrite it when it’s literally a kink fic)

This fic was inspired by this post.

Fic contains omorashi. Also a note that this is somewhat different from my usual stuff in that there’s a lot more focus on the relief than the desperation, which I blame on point of view. Anyway. I’ll stop talking now and let you get to the actual fic lol.

-----

“Oh, you're back.” Sojiro's usual drawl as he stood behind the counter was expected. What was not so expected was the detective prince seated primly at said counter, an empty mug in front of him and a book held open by his gloved hands.

“Out a bit late today, eh? I'll leave closing the store to you then,” Sojiro said without waiting for a reply, replacing his apron with his jacket and giving Akira a short wave as he headed out. There weren't any other customers, and Akira really had been out late – Ryuji had wanted to train, and afterwards Akira had run into Ann when he’d made a stop in Shibuya’s underground mall. Glancing at his phone, he noted that it was technically past closing time already, and was surprised Sojiro hadn't given him more of a talking-to, not to mention he hadn't said so much as a word about Akechi having to leave Leblanc.

Speaking of Akechi ...

Akira flipped the sign to 'closed,' not wanting to risk having to deal with any more late customers wandering in.

“Come here often?” he joked, pleased when Akechi rolled his eyes and closed the book, setting it aside.

“Good evening, Kurusu-kun. You're back much later than usual today.”

Shrugging, Akira dropped his schoolbag on a booth, only giving Morgana a cursory glance as he hopped out of said bag and stalked up the stairs, throwing a disapproving glare over his shoulder. Akira went behind the counter to grab Akechi's mug, giving the inside a quick look, deeming it clean enough before refilling it with what he knew was Akechi's favored coffee blend.

“Yeah, one of my friends likes running, so I offered to run with him. My other friend likes talking, and I ran into her on the way home.” Akira put the now-full mug back in front of Akechi with an exaggerated bow before going about preparing a coffee for himself.

“Ah, isn't it past closing? I did want to talk with you today, but I'm sure you have more important things to be doing,” Akechi said, even as he rose from his seat, grabbing his briefcase from where it was set on the chair next to him.

“Don't worry; if Sojiro wanted you gone, he would've said. Stay as long as you like. Besides, I just refilled your coffee – be a bit rude if you rushed off now.” Akira gave Akechi a narrow-eyed smirk, just daring him to do something deemed 'rude.'

“As long as I'm not causing you any inconvenience,” Akechi said slowly, though he made no move to sit back down. “If you'll excuse me, I'm going to use the restroom, and then we can talk as long as you'd like.”

“Oh, wait, sorry,” Akira said. “Toilet's out of order currently. Sojiro promised me he'd get a plumber in sometime tomorrow.”

Akechi stopped from where he was halfway to the restroom, turning abruptly toward Akira with a single eyebrow raised. “Kurusu, don't you live here?”

“There's a public bathhouse across the street,” Akira shrugged. “Works well enough for emergencies. Otherwise I'm usually only here to sleep anyway.” Watching as Akechi's eyes darted for the slightest of moments toward Leblanc's exit, Akira continued, “I can walk you over there if you need?”

“No, that won't be necessary,” Akechi was quick to answer, returning to his chair and immediately reaching for his coffee, taking a long drink.

“Suit yourself. It's no problem.”

“I can assure you there is no need.”

Holding back an exasperated sigh, Akira instead walked around the counter and very deliberately moved Akechi's briefcase off of its chair and onto the booth next to Akira's own bag, ignoring Akechi's token protest. Plopping down in the now vacated chair, Akira folded his hands around his own coffee cup and smiled at Akechi. “So, Akechi-kun, what is it you wanted to discuss today?”

---

It had stayed in the back of his mind throughout the rest of the evening and later into the night. Sure, Akechi hadn't mentioned the restroom again, but there were the tiniest of tells – he was crossing and uncrossing his legs just a tad more than he would normally, he was twitching his foot up and down whereas he tended to sit completely still, it was taking him a good hour to get through this third cup of coffee when he could usually down them in no more than thirty minutes, even while talking to Akira throughout.

Akira wasn't focusing on Akechi's sure need of the restroom. It was more a curiosity, wondering why he didn't just give in and use the toilet in the bathhouse when obviously Akira was aware he'd needed to go for some time, but Akechi was nothing if not stubborn.

They jumped from topic to topic throughout the night: What restaurants Akechi had visited recently, what Akira had been doing with his friends, how both of them were doing in school, plans for the upcoming summer break, and of course, the all-consuming topic of the Phantom Thieves. Granted, as soon as Akechi started asking the more probing questions, Akira redirected toward Akechi's more recent interviews, charmed to watch Akechi scowl for just a moment before plastering that pleasant grin back on.

Akechi didn't stumble or stutter or lose track of his words. He kept sipping on his coffee, albeit at a slower pace, while Akira watched on.

It felt like no time at all before Akechi glanced at his phone and gave a start. “Ah, it's getting quite late! I really must get to the station before the trains stop for the night. Thank you for indulging me, Kurusu-kun.”

“Pfft, how many times have I told you not to thank me? I like talking to you, idiot.”

“No need to be rude,” Akechi softened his scolding with a smirk, eyes sharp as they looked up at Akira from under his bangs.

“Oh, I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you by walking you to the station.”

“Thank you, but that's really not necessary,” Akechi was quick to say.

“It is -” Akira stopped to dramatically pull his phone out of his pocket to check the time, “- 11:47 at night. As safe as Yongen-Jaya is, I refuse to give up on chivalry and stay here while the Detective Prince himself walks alone to the train station.”

“If you insist. I suppose it wouldn't exactly be 'princely' of me to argue.” Akechi's smile was more obviously forced than Akira had seen before, and he could swear he saw Akechi's left eye twitch before he turned toward the door and made his way toward it.

“Hey, Akechi?”

“Yes? I don't want to miss the last train, Kurusu,” Akechi said.

“Yeah, I know. I only thought that you wouldn't want to forget your briefcase.”

Akira took great humor in watching how quickly Akechi's back straightened, arms stiffening at his sides in what Akira assumed was embarrassment.

“Of course. Thank you, Kurusu-kun.”

Carefully locking Leblanc's door behind him, Akira smirked to himself when he realized Akechi had already started making his way toward the station without him. His gait was no faster than usual, and Akira doubted he would've known anything was wrong without his much earlier clue.

“Hey, wait up! The station's not even a five minute walk away. I promise you're not going to miss your train,” Akira called, jogging a few steps to catch up.

“My apologies. I simply don't want to risk the possibility of becoming stranded here overnight. After all, it would do nothing for my reputation if it were to come out that I spent the night in a Yongen train station.”

“Don't be ridiculous. If you miss the train, you're coming back to Leblanc.”

Akechi looked over in shock at that, eyes wide and mouth open as if he were about to retort, yet no words came.

“I don't know why you're so surprised. What sort of friend would I be leaving you to fend for yourself? You wound me, Akechi, truly.” Akira clutched at his chest, dramatically throwing his head back in faux-distress.

“Be serious,” Akechi scowled, continuing his steady march toward the station.

---

The last train for Shibuya left Yongen at midnight exactly. The big clock on the station wall informed them that it was currently 11:56.

Gesturing toward this clock, Akira said, “See, plenty of time to make your train. I can't believe you doubted me.”

“Yes, wonderful job, you correctly estimated the amount of time it takes to walk from your own home to the train station you frequent.”

“No need for sarcasm. A simple 'thank you' will suffice just fine.”

“Oh, thank you, my hero, Kurusu Akira. Now that I'm at the train station, I assure you I'll be able to make it to Shibuya on my own. No need for you to stay with me.”

“Come on, Akechi, it's only four minutes. I'm convinced you want to be rid of me.”

“Four minutes...” Akechi looked at the clock before looking down at the floor for a moment, seemingly deep in thought. He glanced once more at the clock, once toward the train tracks, then before Akira even knew what was happening, Akechi was off like a shot. He wasn't quite running, but his long strides were moving him through the station at an impressive pace.

Akira took only a moment to watch after him in shock before taking off at a swift jog to catch up with him.

“Akechi, what—”

“Please excuse me, Kurusu-kun,” Akechi said in a strained voice before abruptly pushing through a door. Akira, still chasing after him, entered right behind.

He shouldn't have been surprised to be faced with a restroom. It was small with only a toilet and a sink with no actual stalls, likely due to the Yongen-Jaya station itself not servicing too large of a crowd on the daily. Sure, he shouldn't have been surprised – Akechi had made clear his need for a restroom literal hours ago, and he'd had three cups of coffee since then, but Akira still couldn't wrap his head around Akechi being so desperate as to run away from him to get to a bathroom. Sure, there had been small tells throughout the night – just that much more fidgeting, that much more tightness in his facial expressions, but if Akira hadn't been looking for these things, he certainly wouldn’t have noticed them.

As it was, Akechi wasn't even bothering to wait for Akira to leave, instead dropping his briefcase on the floor and working on undoing his pants even as he was still walking toward the toilet.

There was no way he was unaware Akira had followed him into the bathroom. Apparently, his desperation was so great that he simply didn't care. Akira would've left. He wished he could've left, but as Akechi would've been in direct view of the door had Akira opened it, he didn't dare, instead reaching over and locking the door to prevent anyone else from bursting in.

Looking away would've been, at that point, the correct thing to do. However, the situation itself was so bizarre that Akira felt frozen in place. Frozen and staring as Akechi managed to pull himself out, already obviously dripping even before he managed to aim at the toilet. He was biting his lip and Akira could see, even from across the room, that Akechi's hands were trembling as he aimed and then he was peeing and wow Akira didn't want to be impressed, especially in what was clearly supposed to be a private moment, but the force of the stream was like a goddamned firehose.

The immediate relief was obvious on Akechi's face, his expression relaxing for the first time all night. His eyes drifted closed and his mouth went slack as he let out tiny sighs and cut off moans.

Akira was still frozen, staring, unable to pull his eyes away from the blissful relief apparent on Akechi's face. He could feel his own face flaming in a blush. The sounds alone would've been embarrassing enough, the harsh splashing and the sighing that was only slightly quieter now that Akechi was biting his bottom lip.

To Akira, the moment lasted eons. It seemed neverending in both the worst and best of ways, but truly it couldn't have been longer than a minute when the force of Akechi's stream finally began to wane, the liquid exiting slower and slower until it tapered to a stop. Akechi had turned his face away now, as he tucked himself back into his pants, flushed the toilet, and strode to the sink, taking his time washing his hands and decidedly not meeting Akira's gaze in the mirror. Not that Akira wanted to. At least, he didn't think he did. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to meet Akechi's eyes again after that display.

Once finished washing up, Akechi stayed facing away from Akira.

“You can leave now, Kurusu.” Akira had expected his tone to be darker, angrier, but all he could hear was a bone-deep exhaustion mixed with … was that sadness? Embarrassment? Disgust?

Unfortunately, reacting to unexpected situations such as this was not Akira's forte.

“Uhhh. Wow. that looked like it felt good.” Great, Akira, shove your foot right into your mouth, amazing job there.

“Please just go,” Akechi groaned, covering his face with both hands.

“So actually … You know how Leblanc's toilet is out of order?”

“...Obviously.”

“I definitely have to go now. Mostly out of sympathy for you, but—”

“Would you—ugh,” Akechi growled, face still buried in his palms. “Fine. Fine. I will be the one to leave.” Akechi spun around and all but leaped toward his bag, holding it very conspicuously in front of his crotch as soon as he grabbed it, but it was too late. Akira had definitely seen a small dark patch just to the right of Akechi's zipper, made all the more obvious by the light tan color of Akechi's pants. He strode to the door, trying to yank it open and quickly realized that it was, in fact, locked.

Akira choked on a laugh, the ridiculousness of the past five minutes fully catching up to him. He desperately hoped Akechi hadn't noticed – laughing at him was the worst way of getting Akechi to keep spending time with him, Akira knew. Thankfully, if Akechi had noticed, he didn't acknowledge it as he unlocked the door and let himself out at last.

It only took Akira himself a few minutes to finish in the restroom, even though he took his time, knowing that Akechi had surely left for Shibuya already. So, it was to Akira's immense surprise when he left the bathroom only to see a familiar figure sitting against the wall, knees pulled to his chest with his head pressed into them.

“Akechi?”

“... I may have missed the last train.”

Akira glanced at the clock. 12:08. Apparently Akechi getting his relief did take as long as it seemed...

"At least you already have a back-up plan,” Akira said, grabbing Akechi's briefcase before offering him a hand up. Lifting his head, Akechi fixed him with a glare.

“And if I refuse?”

“You won't refuse. Besides, there's a laundromat right next to that bathhouse I mentioned earlier. I'll throw in your pants for you so you won't have to travel with a stain tomorrow.”

“Would you shut up?” Akechi hissed, but he seemed too tired to put any true venom behind his words.

“Come on, I'll lend you my spare pajamas.”

Without another word, Akechi finally took Akira's hand and rose to his feet.

“I will warn you, Morgana may act very offended by you staying the night.”

“I'll be sure to apologize to him for invading his space then,” Akechi murmured as the two boys left the station and began retracing their earlier path walking side by side.

Akira snorted and bumped his shoulder gently against Akechi's. “Hey, if Morgana wants to stay with me, he's going to have to get used to you being around.”

Akechi's breath caught and he didn't answer, though a quick glance over revealed his cheeks dusted light pink.

---

An hour later found Akira and Akechi both finally ready to sleep after having made a late-night laundry run and settled onto the bed and couch respectively. Morgana, surprisingly, had already been fast asleep when the boys arrived and they were respectful and quiet so as not to disturb him. Akira was sure he'd get an earful about his unexpected guest tomorrow, but at the moment, he wasn't in the mood for a lecture.

“Sleep well, Akechi. And please, if you have to use the restroom during the night, don't hesitate to wake me. It's no trouble to show you to the bathhouse,” Akira said, only partly doing so to push Akechi's buttons.

He could swear he could hear the blush in Akechi's words as he replied, “Thank you, Kurusu-kun. I'll be sure to do so.”

-----

(K, so here’s the super long note I promised at the beginning of this fic. I copy/pasted verbatim from how I had originally written it, so if things seem redundant, whoops sorry.

Full disclosure: I am a die-hard Akechi/Protag shipper and I will not apologize for that. I don't think I made this shippy at all, but I know Akechi is a polarizing character, so I want to make y'all aware that it was a dirty Akechi stan who wrote this. I just think he's an interesting character and I am very sympathetic to him okay don't judge meeeeee. I couldn't remember exactly when Akechi first started going to Leblanc in the actual game, so the timeline is kind of skirted around, but I imagine this to take place after Makoto joins the team but before Futaba contacts them. I know, I know, no one cares about The Lore on a kink fic, but it makes me happy to think about it, and it is also more important in this case because of the following:

The way Akira and Akechi act toward each other is heavily based off of where they are in the timeline + how I interpret canon events (I refuse to say headcanons because I can defend why I think this). Basically, I feel there's strong evidence that despite suspecting Akira to be a Phantom Thief, Akechi didn't truly know he was until Okumura's palace. I also feel that there is even stronger evidence that Akira and Morgana didn't realize Akechi was a persona user until the school fair event that occurred after Okumura's palace. Yes, the event that allowed them to figure this out happens significantly earlier, but there's nothing pointing toward either of them actually figuring it out until the school fair. Please keep this in mind when reading, as this 'headcanon' of mine definitely affects how I write them interacting with each other. I realize that may be confusing, since I think there's some discrepancy as far as interpretation goes around these events and when they truly happened, but this is how I interpreted the game.

Also in regards to the very ending of this fic: Didn’t add this part in because it would’ve dragged for really no reason, but my thoughts on what happens the next morning is that Akechi is naturally an early riser and gets up earlier than both Morgana and Akira and sneaks out so he doesn’t have to face Akira again, which is how we can skirt around the little issue of ‘Akechi can understand Morgana talking.’ Sojiro is definitely in Leblanc already when Akechi leaves. There is awkward eye contact, but neither of them say anything, and Sojiro vows to never bring it up to Akira. (He definitely brings it up to Akira later that same day.))

[izanyas]

Allowance

Written for P5 Writers Zine in like... 2018. I forgot to post it lmao

Rating: T Words: 2,100 Warnings: some internalized lesbophobia

Allowance

It isn't that Makoto can't deal. There isn't much she can't deal with, after all. Losing her father at such a young age and watching her sister grow cold and distant through the years have made the core of her stone-solid, independent, stable. The metaverse may bring out of her every chip in her armor and pour recklessness out of her loosened reserve, but even then, she is in control.

Even then she does not crack.

It is only irritation she feels when Ann insists to accompany her home. It's not as if she didn't see it coming: Ann has not stopped nagging at her since they discovered that Sae has a Palace. They've all been busy preparing for Akechi at the same time as they prepare for Makoto's sister, so Ann has not had much time to actively seek Makoto out, but Makoto knew she could only delay so long.

She tried everything, in her defense. The polite I'm tired and the snapping You should study for tomorrow and the soft and vulnerable, I don't feel like talking, which always leaves her with ants under her skin and makes a voice roar with laughter in her head.

Ann falls for none of them. Ann is tired and pissed off and obviously intends to follow Makoto home no matter what. There is much to say about the way Ryuuji and Yusuke underestimate Ann's capacity for tact; she does not make a scene in front of them or Ren, never, but her eyes on Makoto are glaring.

You're not escaping this time, they say. Futaba takes one look at them and inches closer to Ren reflexively.

Makoto, therefore, is angry.

Nothing else.

"I'm really fine," she says calmly as she pushes open her door.

She tries not very subtly to close it on Ann's face. Ann shoves her foot in before she can do it and forces her way inside, dropping a very quick, "Sorry to bother you," as if she ever feels sorry.

They both still in the entrance after that. Makoto's apartment is as neat and tidy as ever, the kind of tidiness that used to make her pull at the couch's threads till she felt a little like she could breathe again, but there is no noise anywhere. No light coming from the kitchen or the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

Sae isn't home.

Ann sighs in loud relief. She drops her bag in the entrance, kicks off her shoes, and makes herself comfortable on the couch. "You're not fine," she tells Makoto over the back of it. "I can tell."

"You're seeing things," Makoto replies, putting her bag down much more neatly. "Honestly, Ann—"

"No one could be seeing all this about their own sister and be fine, Makoto."

Makoto shivers. Despite the cold, Ann has not grown out of wearing shorts and skirts yet. Her legs are socked up to the thighs, where a thin strip of skin still somehow bears sign of a summer tan. Makoto has to blink and walk away to chase from her mind the sight of that inch of golden skin.

She's parched. Exhaustion weighs deeply on her shoulders, and her own legs feel the ache of running through the Casino even if they did not truly run. She grabs a glass from a cupboard in the kitchen and fills it in the sink, not offering Ann anything to drink.

Ann notices, of course. "You really are angry at me," she says.

"Of course I'm not angry at you," Makoto lies. "Why would I be angry at you?"

"For intruding on your brooding Makoto hours, that's why." Makoto hears her rise from the couch and tiptoe into the kitchen, the weight of her gaze heavy at Makoto's nape. "Well, I'm not leaving," Ann declares.

Makoto's fingers clench around the ice-cold glass. She gulps it down, almost relishing in the faint headache that follows. When she turns around to look at Ann once more, there is no trace of facetiousness on her. It doesn't bode well for Ann's temper or Makoto's current ability to deal with it.

"What do you want me to say?" she asks bluntly.

Ann seems surprised for a second. Before she can speak again, Makoto puts down the glass and comes closer. She's never more aware of their difference in height than when Ann towers over her like this, tall and gangly like Makoto has never been and never will be, graceless yet captivating. Ann blinks at her in confusion.

"What do you need to hear before you go?" Makoto says. "I'm tired, Ann. We've just spent five hours infiltrating a Palace. I need sleep—you need sleep—and whatever you think is wrong with me, it isn't. I'm fine."

Ann contemplates her for a silent moment. When she smiles, it isn't as bright as it usually is. "You even sound like you believe it," she replies, "but how long have I known you now? I remember how you looked when it was that yakuza scum's Palace we were investigating. I'd say you're twice as anxious now as you were then."

"Of course I'm anxious," Makoto says evenly. "There's a lot at stake here."

Her patience grows thinner and thinner; there are urges under her skin, the feel of leather and metal on her body as she punches through a Shadow's heart, the sound of Johanna's wild laughter making her breath turn to fire. She has never wanted to let go so badly outside of the metaverse.

"Makoto," Ann says gently, and the weight of her hand on Makoto's shoulder seems to make her push through the very ground. "There's no one else here. You don't have to be strong around me."

Makoto cracks.

She shoves Ann's hand away too harshly, harshly enough to hurt, but she feels no remorse for it. "What do you want me to say!" she snaps. "What do you want to hear, Ann, that I'm unhappy with this situation? That I'm glad we're all digging around my sister's heart looking for what made her so twisted!? Of course I'm unhappy!"

Ann is holding her own wrist and looking at her with wide eyes, but Makoto can't stop now. She can't apologize or regret.

"She raised me," she says, barely noticing how raw her voice sounds. "Maybe she was distant, and maybe she expects a lot of me, but she raised me. She was there for me after our parents left, she took care of me, she—" she has to breathe to stop the knot in her throat from turning into sobs. "She's the only family I have left," she goes on. "What am I supposed to do now that I know she's corrupted her own heart so much that she grew a Palace and never told me about it?"

Sae has never been one to open up. Perhaps before—before their father died, before she had to turn into a parent for the sake of Makoto, sacrifice her freedom and social life for the sake of her useless baby sister—perhaps then she was less strict. Makoto has half-buried memories of the both of them playing and laughing when Sae's workload was not so terrible, or when she was still a student with more free time. She recalls her big sister playing with dolls like a puppeteer, using weird voices for different roles, putting on a play in Makoto's small bedroom until Makoto laughed herself to tears.

There are tears in her eyes now, but not from any kind of laughter. "Akechi is going to try to kill Ren," she hiccups. She brings her hands to her face and plasters them over her eyes, hoping that the pressure will keep her cries at bay. "We have to make sure he survives—we have to make sure he—Haru's dad," and then a sob breaks her voice as the fear that keeps her awake at night finally comes into words. The anxiety that has her choking on air in her dark bedroom until she thinks she will die. "What if my sister dies too, Ann? What am I supposed to do if I kill her by trying to save her?"

None of them think of the break-ins as an act of charity for those they rob; the people whose hearts they change are scum, the worst that the world has to offer, and they deserve to face punishment. But Makoto has never once managed to think of Sae as guilty.

Ann's arms come around her, too tight and too hurried. "That wasn't our fault," she says, "you know that was Akechi."

"I can't stop thinking about it!" Makoto shouts. "I can't!"

I can't lose my sister too!

Ann's embrace turns firmer. Her face is knocking into the hands that Makoto has kept over her face, and Makoto's elbows must dig painfully into Ann's shoulders, but Ann is relentless. In this as in all things, she refuses to back down.

In the end it is simply easier to accept it. Easier to wrap her own arms around Ann's middle and dig her face into Ann's shoulder, staining her shirt with tears and snot as she shakes and sobs. Makoto has never cried quite so loudly before, she realizes. Not since she was very little. Shame rises in her in the midst of all the fear, yet Ann just shushes her, presses a kiss to her temple and runs long fingers through her hair.

They've never held each other like this before. Makoto cannot stop her heart from beating askew now any more than she could in the past when Ann laughed too brightly or moved in such a way that Makoto's eyes followed the length of her body, the dip of her collarbones, the shape of her legs. Her lips.

She's never thought so lowly of herself for it before.

"She never said anything to me," she repeats into Ann's wet shoulder. "She never told me how she felt. I'm the worst sister in the world."

Ann's voice immediately retorts with words of denial, of comfort, but Makoto does not listen. She doesn't want to be fed lies about her responsibility. If she had cared for her sister better, then Sae would never have become the Phantom Thieves' target.

She never would have become Makoto's target.

Ann doesn't pull away from the hug. As long as Makoto stays, she doesn't move. It must be uncomfortable for her; Makoto knows that at this point it is not just despair keeping her clinging, but for all that she resents herself for it, she can't let go. She doesn't want to let go and go back to ignoring her own feelings.

I'm sorry, Ann, she thinks, burrowing deeper into the girl's embrace. Please let me have this.

Ann's fingers in her hair drag shivers out of her scalp.

She does have to pull away eventually. Even here there are limits to what Makoto can allow herself; she won't pretend to be upset now that her crying has turned to soft breathing and that simple exhaustion has settled inside her languidly. It is with greater effort than ever that she leans out of Ann's arms and looks away from her, sniffling quietly.

She risks a glance in Ann's direction. Ann's eyes are bright too, a single tear track on her flushed cheek shining from eye to lip. She gives Makoto a trembling smile and says, "Your makeup is all smudged."

Makoto goes rigid when Ann's fingers touch her cheek. She stops breathing as they wipe carefully under her eyes and over her cheeks, trying to reign in her immediately blush. "Ann," she says.

But Ann is not listening. For once Makoto is the one who feels trapped under the weight of her eyes.

She doesn't move away as Ann approaches; doesn't pretend not to want it when Ann bends down and puts a kiss over the lowest part of her cheek, right at the corner of her lips. Makoto turns her head aside to meet her fully.

She can feel the hitch in Ann's breathing as if it came from her own throat. Maybe it did, she thinks light-headedly. Makoto closes her eyes and presses further into the kiss, unable to keep her eyes open for fear of Ann's reaction, taking in the softness and proximity for as long as she will be allowed.

She needn't have worried.

It is only a long moment later that they both pull away. Makoto's heart is a chaos in her ribcage, fluttering like a trapped bird, knocking and bruising. She knows her face has grown crimson; she can see, though she will not look higher than Ann's chin, that Ann looks exactly the same.

She forces her mouth open and says, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Ann replies in the same breath. "Don't be sorry."

In her smiling eyes, Makoto finds the very opposite of disgust.

She smiles back.

[theexistentiallyqueer]

"but he murdered people”

This is a post about Goro Akechi, murder, its aftermath, trauma, and two things that are in real short fucking supply around here: critical thinking and empathy.

Listen, I’m a veteran of the Dragon Age fandom. If you want to talk about toxic fandoms, they’re your Bible. As far as your Judas Iscariots and Nebuchadnezzars go, I was one of them. I’ve seen it, I’ve done it, and I’m done with it. It’s exhausting to carry that much rage inside of you, to live it actively every second of every day, and to inflict it on other people and laugh about it. So I’ve been disengaged, largely, for a few years. 

And now I’m in the Persona 5 fandom and find myself enthusiastically appreciating Goro Akechi, because who doesn’t love complex, morally flawed, ambiguously gay-coded characters? Shit, maybe you’re not on board, but I’ll sign right up. I’m a relative newcomer, despite being a longtime Persona fan and playing P5 around when it came out, because I didn’t engage with the fandom then. I jumped back in with the Royal announcement and absolutely saturated myself in this vibrant fan space. Invested in the idea of Akechi being explored as a fully fleshed-out character, I find myself following Goroboys. Which is great! Because so far, they’re all great! Nicest bunch of people you could ever hope to meet!

Except there’s Discourse. There’s always been Discourse, I find, but this is my first exposure to it in this fandom. This weekend was my first week of seeing Goro antis active, seeing people I follow, people I like and appreciate and some I considering genuine friends, actively attacked and harassed because they like a fictional teenage character who killed some other fictional people in a fictional world where you, playing as the main character, have the ability to perform a metaphysical lobotomy on people who literally can’t consent. Here I thought the only people who hated Akechi were white cishet men who saw his rage against a parent and said, “Nah, too bitchy for me,” because they’re too afraid to look in a mirror and see Masayoshi Shido’s fascist, misogynistic mug staring back. 

Are you awake yet? Have I woken you up to the fact that Persona 5′s premise is a wish-fulfillment fantasy of “what if I could make the person who took advantage of me when I was a teenager apologize in front of the entire world by using an alternate fantasy dimension to completely violate their brain”?

I see my friends saying, “Wow, it’s amazing how people who hate Akechi can’t leave people who like Akechi alone,” and within an hour they have replies saying MURDER IS MURDER as if they know what murder actually is.

We’re about to get real personal up in here because maybe, only then, will some of you people take the hint that your behavior borders on actively bullying other people on the internet over a fictional character.

Ready? Here goes.

Murder is your mom picking you up from summer camp three weeks after your ninth birthday, driving you to your grandparents’ house, and telling you that when daddy was at work today, someone tried to steal the money, and they had a gun. Daddy was brave and Daddy died.

Murder is blacking out when you’re nine years old and coming to to yourself two houses away on a neighbor’s swing set with crickets chirping in your ears and the crushing reality of never seeing your father again turning your brain into static.

Murder is asking your mother if she asked for the death penalty, and your mother telling you, in a pleading voice, that she didn’t because he was mentally ill and it didn’t feel right. Murder is feeling angry afterwards because you feel like something was taken away from you, and something should be exchanged for that. Because that’s how fairness works, right? If you steal candy from the store, you have to give up your allowance for the next five months.

Murder is realizing you’re an atheist at fourteen and driving past the cemetery where your father’s remains are interred, and having the gut-punching, soul-suffocating realization of what never ever ever actually means. Murder is building an internal cosmology where forever means my atoms and yours, creating new life in perpetuity as the comfort you drag out of the west’s cold, uncaring atheism that never found its own poetry.

Murder is your first two years in college, when you discover social justice and realize the world is bigger than your own life experiences, and that violence at the bottom is a reactionary symptom against violence at the top. Murder is understanding the fact that the man who killed your father was himself a victim of a racist, ableist, capitalist society with a morally bankrupt healthcare system, and that every single one of those things is in and of itself is more hateful than the act of your father bleeding out in the parking lot, in the ambulance, on the operating table.

Murder is your mother confessing to you in college that your father was physically abusive of her and that she had threatened him, only weeks before he was killed, that she would leave and take her daughters with her if he didn’t change. Murder is knowing that your father ran after an armed robber because he was raised by a Sicilian father in a household overflowing with toxic masculinity, and what killed your father wasn’t a man with a gun: what killed your father was the patriarchy whispering in his ear, This theft emasculates you. 

Murder is looking your own mother in the eye and telling her that one day you want to visit the man who killed your father and open your heart to him, because all you can think is, He didn’t plan this. He can’t have wanted this. What must it feel like to kill someone without intending to and then have to live with that for the rest of your life with no one to help you? Murder is the sound of betrayal in your mother’s voice when she responds, disbelieving.

Murder is spending years wanting to at least write to him, and then forgetting, and then going back, because you are a fluid, impermanent, imperfect person with your own flaws and failures and mental issues that hold you back from being the paragon you want to be. Murder is throwing yourself into the left and embracing prison abolition so hard it hurts, because you know that if the state can lock up someone who doesn’t “matter,” the state can lock up anyone. 

Murder is throwing away or selling every childhood thing you ever possessed because you are not by nature a sentimental person, but never giving up that doll you were gifted, the doll you coveted and wanted more than anything else, three weeks before your father was shot and killed. You have no pictures, no mementos, no nothing, but she sits at the top of your bookshelf to this day, a weighty child goddess, the symbol of your torn and labyrinthine childhood.

Murder is having to see a bunch of petty-ass people using actual trauma that real life people have experienced and continue to experience to directly and repeatedly harass your friends online (and yourself, indirectly, by tagging their hateful shit) because you and your friends like a fictional fucking character who, by nature of being fictional, did not actually murder any real existing people.

Murder is building your entire identity around how you sympathize, deeply, with the person who killed your own father, because that takes hard work and deep empathy and the ability to see past a lot of bullshit just to get to that point, and having some fuck-ass anons act like none of that matters because there is (apparently, I must assume) some omnipotent god of justice saying “Fuck you and everything you’ve been through” that apparently only these bullies can hear.

Murder is seeing fandom moralizers talk about murder like they understand it. Like they’ve read this, plus the last ten-plus paragraphs, and decided they know best anyway because mommy and daddy always told them Criminals Are Bad and walked wide-eyed and innocent into a social network overrun with TERFs, exclusionists, and a rotten segment of the political left that acts like some extras straight out of The Crucible.

I have never once been triggered by anything relating to my father’s murder. I cried at the Resurrection Stone scene in The Deathly Hallows, I cried when I completed when I completed the DA2 DLC Legacy after the end of act 2. When I see a parent die, I have an emotional reaction, because it’s familiar.

But the Akechi antis who all say “but he killed people!”, The Akechi antis who say “murder is still murder”?

The murder of my father is still murder. The man who killed him, his murderer, is still regardless a human being, the man who killed him deserves sympathy and compassion and understanding and respect and, above all, a chance.

I am a living example of what’s left behind when someone is murdered. You can walk into the mausoleum where my father is interred, face his headstone, and let the earth open up beneath you and drop you into hell.

So most sincerely, from someone who lost their father to gun violence, to armed robbery, to murder: Stop fucking using our lived experiences as your justification to harass and bully people online for committing the Grave Moral Sin of just liking a video game character.

Between the fact that the American government is keeping real people in concentration camps and a bunch of strangers on the internet liking a twiggy teenage anime boy who used a fantasy world to kill people who don’t exist, which one is actually important to deserve your moral outrage?

You’ll die eventually; fascism won’t kill itself.

[darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts]

Devil’s Trust pt3

Warnings: Strong language, Moblord styling warlords.

Masterlist

---

Chapter 3

He was not in the best of moods. His plans for the evening had been dashed with a single phone call that lasted for only a few minutes. Running his hand roughly through his dark auburn hair he took hold of a fist full at the back of his head and gave it a small tug in frustration. Why summon me? What game is the Devil King playing now? The private elevator gave a small lurch as it came to a stop on the top floor. He smoothed out his dishevelled hair and gave a deep sigh before plastering on an expression of ambiguous origin and entered the Devil’s lair.

The grandeur of the place annoyed him. Penthouse apartment on top of his own building and this is what he did with it? Walking along the corridor past the glass wall that revealed the private garden, a central pavilion past an elegant rock garden, shimmering water of a koi pond and beautifully manicured plants framing the path for walking. He felt himself twitch as an unwelcome thought as to its beauty entered his mind. Who would have thought such a place existed in Hell? There was a heavy-looking sliding door at the end of the corridor, propped open, and he knew without any guidance that that was his destination.

Stopping to look inside before he entered, he couldn’t help but feel the bile in the pit of his stomach churn. This place was really something else. The blend of modern furniture with items of antiquity felt seamless. The glow of the rosewood and lacquered items gave warmth to the contrasting cold metal and supple leather. He did wonder if all the rooms in this place were decorated like this or if it was just the Devil’s office. Knowing Nobunaga and his desire to surround himself with nothing but the best it was probably safe to assume that this level of dedication to all the finer things was abundant throughout.

There was a massive desk at the top of the room in front of floor to ceiling windows giving an unprecedented view over the city. A large sofa with a couple of chairs was in front of a fireplace with a large coffee table. There was even a drinks cabinet that seemed to take up quite a bit of wall space too. The rest of the items present looked as if they saw little use.

“You kept me waiting.” Nobunaga’s low commanding voice reached him from where he was sitting on a chair near the fire. Amber liquid glowed, already swirling in the crystal tumbler he had in his hand the decanter for which was placed on the table in front of him, another glass waiting patiently near it.

“And you are keeping me from my evening plans.” Shingen haughtily retorted and took a seat on the leather sofa without invitation. The sooner this is over with the sooner I can leave.

“You can submerge yourself under females another night. Tonight, I have need of you.” Nobunaga sipped his drink an infuriating smirk on his face as he cracked his mockery. Shingen tensed but managed to retain the composure he was known for. I’ll be damned if I let you break me again Nobunaga.

“As flattering as that is, I’m not interested.” Shingen shrugged and reclined back making a show of it. The leather creaked slightly under his shifting weight almost as if it were sighing at his moving mass.

“After all this time the old Tiger still has the energy to growl and yet all I see before me is a weak little kitten.” Nobunaga leaned forward and poured for himself and his guest. Shingen was making no attempt to help himself which given their history spoke volumes of the level of trust that remained between the two heads of family. In this world you learn that suspicions saved lives. To drink or eat something you hadn’t already seen the other consume was inviting trouble and it was a fundamental lesson to even the less seasoned members of their groups.

“Provoking me will only confirm my suspicions that you are nothing more than a spoiled brat who got in a foul mood because someone took away his candy. What did you summon me for Nobunaga?” Shingen accepted the drink still not partaking of it, he simply held the weighted tumbler on his thigh in his large hand. His black eyes meeting their red counterparts, steel versus flames in this undesirable alliance.

“You still have hold of your own network throughout the city correct?”

“Naturally. Such a thing that has been generations in its cultivation cannot be rendered dead overnight even by your hand. As long as I am still living the bonds of trust are tied, the network remains.” Shingen was first and foremost a trader in information. It was not something he had felt the need to hide as it was widely known among the different factions that that was his domain. In fact, it had served him well over the years. Strategies were only as good as the information held and if you wanted a war with words you sometimes had to get a little psychological with it. Much easier to gain success when the opponent is already panicked that you might know something too juicy to share.

“Good I want you to look into something for me.” Nobunaga nodded happily after accepting confirmation. That familiar entitled attitude did little to staunch the agitated Tiger.

“I am not one of your hounds. Don’t you usually use Akechi for this kind of thing?” Shingen shot out his reply and watched as it hit home. A subtle and almost completely hidden reaction happened. His hand definitely tensed I wasn’t imagining it.

“You might not be one of my “hounds” as you call them Shingen, but you are one of my possessions. It would be a waste to not use every pawn at my disposal on occasion.” Nobu’s voice held an edge to it that was part warning and part dare. The frustrating thing to this almost textbook masking of unspoken issues within the payroll was that Shingen could not deny that there was truth in the devil’s words. Had he been in his position it would be something he would be using to his advantage as well.

“You sit there and just expect me to take your barbs and bidding?” Shingen’s voice rose to meet Nobu’s. I would rather not think of how similar we can be at times.

“I expect you to do your job. Like it or not we are part of a united front and this threat we have on the horizon is coming whether you help or not. I would have thought the great Shingen Takeda would have recognised the importance of going into battle with as much knowledge as possible is preferable to entering a battle with nothing.” He hadn’t so much as moved in his chair and yet there was no denying the shift of his oppressive presence in the room.

“You’re rattled? The Devil King himself is worried.” Shingen held his ground but his gaze had become one of curiosity.

“I am not worried nor am I afraid. I have a dislike for things that are hidden from me. Things that would try to steal what is mine. Now go and find me my weak link. Find me the focus of my attack.”

---

It had taken most of the afternoon to get to the change of location and then unload the van. The neighbours had all begun their series of curtain-twitching and popping out to put items into the outside waste bins to get a look at the new arrivals almost as soon as they pulled up. Mitsuhide chuckled knowing all too well that this was the limit to a lot of people’s subterfuge in the world that was so different to his. It was more innocent and on a level with a child eavesdropping at a door.

“What are you laughing at?” [Name] looked at him curiously as she crouched down to let the cat out of its transport carrier. It gave a small grumpy sounding recognition to her as thanks for its freedom and darted off to explore its new territory.

“Nothing my dear. Nothing at all.” Mitsuhide glanced around the home that had taken on interior design inspiration from a child’s box fort. “So… what are we unpacking first?”

“The kettle. I’m gonna kill someone if I don’t get a coffee.” Casting out a flippant comment she started shuffling boxes around in an apparent search for the correctly labelled one.

“Really now? Well if you should find yourself with such a thing happening, I would hope that you remember to call me about it.” He smiled watching [Name] look over the boxes near her.

“Mobster jokes? Seriously? I was just using a common phrase Mitsu.” She huffed her words used to chastise him lost any negativity in them as she failed to suppress a beautifully happy smile from gracing her lips. Say what you like little mouse we both know you like it.

“And I was just stating facts, my dear. I think the kettle is in this one.” He slid a knife over the tape on the box and with a small popping sound, it opened revealing the chrome coloured appliance. She scooped it up and pivoted her body to go to the kitchen.

They were finally home. He had taken a lot more care and effort in selecting this place than any of his previous safe houses. It was here after all that he would be putting his greatest treasure. It had to be perfect, it had to be safe. He had researched and laid a path of paperwork thick enough to cover their trail linking it to several of his aliases in various ways to lead credibility to it all.

This was a milestone in a relationship even in the normal world. All though they had been living together already back at HQ it didn’t change how pivotal this was. As he mused over a turn of events, he had never thought possible in his life. His smirk softening into a more relaxed smile as he watched [Name] bounce around from box to box looking for cups and other things. I wonder if you know how far I would go to protect you. How far I’ve already gone and how much further I’d be willing to fall just to keep you safe.

---

To say his patience was wearing thin was little more than a joke at this point. His desk was covered in the correspondence that he had had with Esshu since the untimely demise of its former CEO. Each one a polite yet firm refusal to entertain any ideas of a merger. The names signing off on each had been different and each one was added to the growing list he was formulating to try to figure out the design of the inner workings of the beast.

A few days had passed since the Tiger had been set among the pigeons and the lack of enthusiasm to retrieve what he asked for irked him. The fact they simply didn’t just accept their position and dance to the tune specified proved he couldn’t discount Shingen as a possible assassin in this game.

Something else was annoying him as well. “Don’t you usually use Akechi for this kind of thing?” He might have known that Shingen would have spotted the elephant in the room. His once sharp tool that was so quick to cut that the opposition hadn’t even registered the damage until it was too late was now playing house. The blade blunt and discolouring with lack of use. A battle was coming, would his trusted predator still be fighting?

The other company was one thing currently outside of his control. He felt his blood boil as he looked at the rejections. They had no idea who they were messing with. He hated it but there was no changing fact. They say history has a way of repeating itself and he felt the cogs of time rewind to a certain point. If they are not with him, then they stand against him and will be treated like everyone else that had refused his dream. He will crush them, destroy them and take what he wants by force for the greater good. It’s not the first time he would have to come up with a plan for a hostile takeover. But who is he targeting? Nobunaga roughly bundled the papers together on his desk in a shambolic pile and spun in his chair to stare out of his window.

The city below stretched out as far as his eye could see. Pedestrians scurried through the streets making their commute. Traffic lights at each intersection caused the traffic to pulse down the roads of the city in a familiar and predictable way.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Mitsuhide was still performing his duties. All the bases were covered and targets met with precision. Currently, there was no reason to take action to regain his tool. Still, he was not a patient man and he knew there might still come a time when he would have to do something to “correct” the issue. I warned you once before… old friend.

---

[aithne]

(Illume) Epilogue: Wear Red When You Bring Me Offerings

Yukiko delivered her child, a healthy son named Ryutaro, on the second of October. Iyotushi Akechi was crowned Emperor on October fifth, 1583.

When the smoke cleared, all of the retinue but Reiko could be healed and returned to life. The spirits were dispersed into the land through Tadaki's tower, and there they reside to this day. After the coronation, the retinue departed for the four corners of Japan, to see if the war-torn land could be salvaged.

The Crane Clan was decimated by the machinations of Arenro, and on Lord Akazawa Tsuneyasu's death in 1585, the Crane was simply folded into the Scorpion, Tomika and Funitsu ruling jointly over the combined clan. The pair stayed married (though why they did so was the wonderment of all who knew them, except Yukiko), and eventually had three children, two boys and a girl. Soshi Tsutsako never married, preferring her shujenja studies to all worldly affairs, so she claimed.

The Crab did survive to rise again, though Hideyoshi did not return to his former position as Clan Lord. Haku's daughter Kita was adopted into the clan and ruled them for forty-four hard years, as the Crab fought to regain even a shadow of its former glory.

Haku married within his clan and had five children--not including the one who was Yukiko's son. Few ever guessed Ryutaro's parentage, as he took strongly after Yukiko's father. Those who did guess never spoke of it; Haku took the secret to his grave. It is unknown if Yukiko ever knew who the father of her child was.

Hideyoshi served under Akechi as the general of the Imperial Army for seven years. His body never fully recovered from his extended spirit possession, and as his health declined he gave up his position and went to live in Sapporo, in the newly rebuilt Phoenix palace. He died in his sleep in 1598.

Hiroshi found that life within the Unicorn suited him and kept both of his wives pregnant almost constantly for years. Sun Bear took over leadership of the clan when she gained her majority, and proved to be a fierce and wise leader. Hiroshi died in battle in 1622.

Panda and Nibori eventually had a number of children, most of whom were hengenyokai, two of whom were nearly pure Air Spirit Folk, the twin heirs of Skyhome. Tadaki visited regularly until Nibori's death in 1642. Panda outlived her husband by twenty years, but on his death gave leadership of the Lion clan over to her eldest son and retired to Skyhome. To her dying day, she went for daily flights with Gryphon.

Gryphon found himself a mate--a number of them--and lived quite happily in Skyhome for the rest of his days. He always seemed to have a kitsune or two around him, the only gryphon to ever keep pet foxes.

Tadaki moved the City of the Sun to a large island far off the coast of Japan, and used his now-formidable arts to cloak the island with spells that even today prevent any who are not of hengenyokai blood from finding it or even being able to think of it for very long. He married Kintro, a childhood friend, in 1585. (When she told the story of their betrothal, Kintro never failed to point out that Tadaki, when Kintro told him he was going to marry her, looked around panicked, in hopes that it somehow wasn't him she was speaking to. He did eventually reconcile himself to the notion of marriage.) As of the early 1700's, he still lives in the City of the Sun, the staff that he carries extending his lifespan far beyond the usual for hengenyokai.

Iyotushi Hirohito, at a strongly worded suggestion from his brother, surprised everyone by marrying Soshi Karasuko, Funitsu's stepmother. Thus he cemented the Imperial family's ties to the Scorpion clan. He held the official position of Imperial Advisor for the rest of his life. He and Karasuko had no children.

It turned out that the Demonbane had been holding what was left of the original Thrykreen and the entire remaining population of kitsune in a secure cell under his now-destroyed palace. There were six of each, and by the time they were found they had all paired off. Fortunately for mankind, the two halves of the race decided that they vastly preferred each other's company to living parasitically off of humans. To this day, the myobu (as they call themselves, after the Celestial kitsune who were all killed by the Demonbane) live very quietly in small communities that are usually walled away from the human life around them. A number of them also live in Skyhome.

All of the altered Thrykreen died within six months of the Demonbane's death. The Warresh still slumber in their crystal city, and hopefully always will.

Jeron spent a time wandering the length of Japan, occasionally dropping in on those who had been his compatriots, attending each wedding and funeral alike. For a while, he sailed on the Benevolent, becoming friends (and, it is rumored, lovers) with the copper-eyed second mate, Kalva. When Japan opened its borders in 1642, he traveled west, first through China and India, then Europe, eventually settling in London for a number of years. In 1685, he returned home, settling down to write an English translation of the events of the Spirit War.

The Phoenix Clan passed to Yukiko's son, Ryutaro, and Yukiko served as both the Phoenix regent and Empress until he reached his majority. Akechi ruled for thirty years, overseeing the rebuilding of Japan after the Spirit War, but insisted on keeping the borders of the country closed to outsiders. He died in 1613, followed by Yukiko in 1618. Ryutaro passed on the rulership of the Phoenix Clan to his firstborn daughter and took on the mantle of Emperor. Under Ryutaro's rule, the borders of Japan became progressively more open and the Clans began to fall out of power, as the Emperor worked to make Japan a part of the world.

Takumi Yamashita and Edi-lo were buried in the same shrine, on the grounds of the Phoenix estate in Sapporo.

Takumi Reiko was buried on the Iyotushi estate, just outside of Kyoto, in a shrine built for her by Akechi and Yukiko. The shrine is on a hill overlooking a river. From the torii of the shine, one can look down to the riverbank and see the place where a mage and an immortal once met and fell in love.

Her grave is one of the few places on the earth that the myobu hold sacred.

--Saruwatari Jeron, September, 1703

September 12th, 1703

Jeron leaned back at his desk, looking at the manuscript in front of him. "That's it, then," he said aloud to the empty room. "It's done."

Even with Reiko's spirit gone, he still retained the habits that having her around for a century had ingrained in him: speaking his thoughts aloud, leaving offerings at the small altar under one of the windows in this small house, double-checking to make sure he didn't accidentally close the door on her tails when she was frisking around in fox form.

He had begun the translation after she'd gone, almost twenty years ago, returning to Japan and finagling his way into the Imperial vaults, where Yukiko had stored her journals and letters before she'd died. There was currently a fad in London for myths and stories from the Orient, and Jeron had a publisher interested in his translation. The desk before him was littered with paper and parchment, covered with elegantly handwritten Japanese script.

"Funny. Only the myobu and hengenyokai will ever realize what this is, if they ever read it. The humans have already forgotten us. It's probably for the best."

He stretched and rose. He'd go visit the shrine on the Iyotushi estate tonight, he decided. Since he had returned, visiting Reiko's grave had become another habit. Seemingly by accident, he had ended up living only an hour's walk away.

Though I am not certain what I will do, now. Return to London, I suppose, for a little while.

That evening, he walked into the shrine overlooking the river. A young woman, fine-boned and very small, was standing on a stool, lighting lanterns. She heard his step behind her and turned, smiling. "Welcome, stranger."

Jeron stopped cold.

The girl's eyes were amber as topaz. He felt the prickle of her life force against his skin, like a subtle wind. She was kitsune, and from her raised eyebrow, she knew that he was Thrykreen. He bowed slightly, and went inside. The shrine attendants were usually human, though he supposed it made sense that a young kitsune might come here to serve a few years.

After paying his respects, he returned outside. The shrine attendant was standing at the torii, looking down at the river with a wistful expression on her face. He sat on a stone beside her. "How goes the hunting?"

She quirked her mouth in a small smile. "Well enough. Tell me, have we met before? You look familiar, though I can't place you."

"We might have. What's your name?"

"Ishimaru Kaede. I grew up in Skyhome, and my parents finally let me out into the world on the condition that I do a turn as a shrine attendant. I picked here, because it feels very peaceful to me."

"I haven't been to Skyhome since Panda died. That was--has it really been forty years now?" He looked over at her, and in the light from the lanterns saw something that he had missed before, a pure white streak in her black hair.

She saw where his glance went, and self-consciously patted the streak. "I was born with it. The priest said it was a sign that I had a troublesome last life. And, yes, it's been forty-five years since our Panda died. I'm only nineteen, so I never met her, though my parents are friends with her sons. What's your name?"

He hesitated. His name was legendary, and he felt a great reluctance to give it and possibly ruin the first good conversation that he'd had with one of the myobu since Reiko's spirit had left him. He couldn't bring himself to lie, so he said, truthfully, "Saruwatari Jeron."

The girl blinked. "Oh." She considered this, and her hands crept to the hems of her sleeves, fidgeting with them. The gesture was unconscious and so reminiscent of Reiko that Jeron's heart gave an unexpected twist.

Nonsense, he told himself. I need to stop looking for her in the face of every woman I meet. This is a pleasant girl, a pretty young kitsune, nothing more.

"I've heard stories of you my whole life. It's interesting to have the reality sitting beside me. You're not as tall as I thought you would be. The stories make you sound like you're a giant."

He chuckled. "Things get exaggerated. I'm a Thrykreen like any other, Kaede. I'm just a bit older than most."

Kaede tilted her head, considering this. "And you were a part of the Spirit War. And you knew Takumi Reiko. What was she like?"

He closed his eyes, remembering. "Small, smaller than you, even. Confused, much of the time. She held great sorrow within her, enough to almost drown her at times. She loved fiercely, and she was one of the bravest souls I've ever known. She died the death of a warrior, fighting for something she believed in."

"Is it true, that her spirit is still attached to you?"

Jeron shook his head. "A century to the day after she died, her spirit disappeared. I believe that she had finally worked out her sorrows, and was ready to move on--whether to another life, or to whatever afterworld waits for myobu."

"Ah. I'm sorry, Jeron."

An odd question occurred to him, and it came out of his mouth before he had time to think about it. "Tell me, do you have nightmares?"

Her eyes widened, and she stared at him. "I do. How did you know?"

"I don't know. What do you have nightmares of?"

Kaede looked down to the river, her eyes distant. "I dream of battles with demons who spit molten copper. I dream of sailing ships, of another kitsune dying because I could not protect her. I dream of standing in front of a man who I am terrified of, even though I don't know why I am. I dream I am walking naked on the deck of a ship, and a black-garbed man stops me from throwing myself into the ocean. I dream that my father tells me that I am no daughter of his--though my real father loves me dearly. And other things. I don't know why I dream these things; my life has been a happy one so far, and I count myself very blessed."

Jeron said, softly, "Perhaps they're just echoes of the past. Sometimes stories take on lives of their own. But I doubt it means anything, really. They're probably just nightmares."

"Probably."

He stretched and rose. "I must be off home. I do visit regularly, though, so I should see you again. It was good to speak with you, Kaede."

"Likewise. I'm glad to know there's another myobu living in the area. My parents would be pleased to know there's someone around who can keep me out of trouble."

He grinned briefly, the first evidence of the sense of humor he evidently kept well hidden flashing in his eyes. "I'm not so sure I'm the one to keep you out of it. Perhaps we could find some to get into, one of these days."

Kaede's eyes glittered with amusement. She watched the Thrykreen walked down the road and away from the shrine, murmuring to herself, "I think we may both be in trouble already, Jeron."

(Ishimaru Kaede and Saruwatari Jeron were married in April of 1704.)

Here ends Illume, a chronicle of the conflict that became known as the Spirit War. 3/2004 - 10/2004

[books-and-dragons]

Unexpected Saviour

somehow i got this written on time, i love the endless potential that comes with the interrogation room, it’s always fun to mess with- i’ll probably do more if i get the chance

Unexpected Saviour

In that Interrogation Room, Akechi expects the dimmed lighting and frigid temperature. He expects the guard at the door, the empty corridors, even Sae Nijima, who he never ended up seeing at all in that underground chamber- he planned for it all.

What he didn't plan for, was finding Akira Kurusu beaten and broken in the corner of the room, barely within coherency.

This certainly made his plan somewhat more difficult to execute- but he refused to let that stop him.

ShuAke Confidant Week, Day 4, Trust

Linky will be here soon

The frigid cold seeped through the linings of his pea-green coat, sending shivers wracking down his spine, which was in no way helped by the empty, military design of the underground floors.

Unnecessarily bright lights hung from the ceilings, providing illuminating moments of brightness before plunging you into the shadows for several steps- it was hardly a design fit for interior aesthetic, but the purpose of the building was hardly to be pleasing to look at, and instead fit its real purpose much more suitably.

The weight in his coat’s breast pocket felt heavier with every step Akechi took, past each empty corridor, as he neared his destination. The echo from his steps reflected across the empty pathway, nobody in sight but the man standing guard outside of the room. His room.

Black leather gloves clenched into fists, his resolve hardened, as he strode more confidently forward. His personas, for once, silent- all in anticipation.

As he neared, the guard stiffened, noticing the famous teen detective, expecting his arrival, but said nothing.

So far, everything had gone exactly as planned. Except from the arrival of Sae Nijima, but as it happened Akechi hadn’t seen her on his way through the chambers, so she must have left already. Probably for the best, he didn’t want distractions- his task today would already prove complicated enough.

“May I ask that you accompany me? I feel rather uncomfortable going in alone and unarmed to interrogate a murderer.” With every passing word, the weight in his breast pocket felt more and more heavy, but there would be no turning back now. Especially when the man was already opening the door, a slight hesitancy in his movement. Fear.

They had certainly done well to make the leader of the Phantom Thieves appear ruthless and dangerous, if the guard was hesitant simply being in the same room as him.

At least, that’s what Akechi had thought, until he was met with the horrific sight inside.

Light specs of blood decorated the table used for the interrogation with Sae, numerous empty syringes lay forgotten on the floor, patches of water not yet evaporated in the chillingly-cold room reflected from dim lighting. But worst of all, was the shaking figure sat crumpled in the corner of the room, head buried in his arms, only recognisable to Akechi by the messy black hair atop his head.

And in that moment, Akira Kurusu was all Akechi could see.

Within seconds, Akechi had crossed the floor of the interrogation room, kneeling by the broken body on the floor. Up close, he already saw signs that made his blood boil.

Needle picks jutted out from the standard-issue Shujin turtleneck, which was decorated with dirty marks and who knows what other stains, hidden beneath the blazer. Bruises decorated pale, slim hands, and as Akechi allowed his gaze to trail past, he saw the crusting of blood around his wrists, deep cuts from handcuffs pulled too tight. Akira’s breath was short, shallow- there was ribcage damage, at the very least.

Mentally, Akechi kicked himself for not seeing this coming. For not expecting such brutality and cruelty from Shido’s men, from the most corrupt of the police force.

But still, he had a mission- and this wouldn’t stop him from accomplishing it.

Gently, he placed one hand on Akira’s shoulder.

His stomach lurched as the boy desperately flinched away from his touch, finally looking up from where his face had been hidden within his arms.

And the sight he was met with made him want to yell.

Bruises. Blood. A split lip. Perfect, porcelain skin covered by mottled purples and browns, stained with cursting reds. Unfocused, slate-grey eyes stared up at him, wide and full of terror. Akechi felt sick.

Before he could say anything, he was beaten to it, by a horrified whisper, rough from what was undoubtedly hours of yelling and screaming, from torturous dehydration.

“S-so, I failed.” Akechi furrowed his brows in confusion, which sharpened to attention as hazy eyes met his own faze. Nothing but grim acceptance and sorrow shone in them, before he closed his eyes, his shoulders slumped, “Do it.”

Was this the effect of the drugs? Messing with Akira’s psyche, confusing him beyond all comprehension.

Akechi leaned slightly closer, not far enough to startle the fragile teen, “Do what ?”

“Kill me, that’s what you’re here for right?” Akechi’s stomach dropped, he felt the blood drain from his face, Akira opened his eyes and met Akechi’s own, a broken plea escaped his throat, “ Please .”

He felt the weight of the gun press against his chest. Questions raced through his mind, too frequent to allow him any moment to possibly contemplate them, let alone begin to answer them. How had he known about the plot? How much did he know? Had he known the entire time? Bile clogged his throat.

None of those questions mattered, not now. He could get his answers later, when Akira was more coherent, when Akira was safe , when Akechi had fulfilled his own agenda tonight.

“Akira...Akira no ,” It was a risky move, and he knew it, but Akechi reached forward, slowly, so Akira could watch, and let one hand near his shoulder, “I’ll explain everything later, but I’m not going to do that, okay?” He spoke every word so clearly, uncaring of the guard that could hear him, only caring that Akira really understood what was going on, “I know everything’s confusing right now, but please, trust me .”

His words hung in the air, echoed in the heavy silenced that followed them. Akira said nothing, only staring at Akechi’s face, then his outstretched hand, then the other hand, searching, searching , and then his gaze settled back to meet Akechi’s own. Slowly, Akira nodded.

Relief flooded him, as he allowed his hand to continue forward, wrapping around Akira’s shoulders delicately. For a moment, he felt the sharp tension grow under his touch, before it melted away, hesitantly leaning into his hold. In return, Akechi’s grip tightened ever so slightly, pulling him closer.

When he had Akira securely in his arms, Akechi finally tore his attention away- focusing on the other guard. At the sight of the uniform, he felt his anger once again resurface.

Strong hands, ones that could hurl cruel punches at innocent teenagers, a sturdy frame that could hold down any struggling body, push and shove drug-weakened people to the ground and kick them down relentlessly. The power to break bones and split skin. He felt the weight of the gun in his pocket, Loki’s claws curling around it in offering, in reminder of how much the guard would deserve it, how they all would.

But there was no cruelty in those eyes. No hatred to the teen lying fragile in Akechi’s arms, only confusion. Hesitance. Robin’s astuteness locked onto the lack of badges he adorned, the weaknesses in his frame, it was clear to them both. A trainee, an innocent, placed in prime position to die as an unknowing sacrifice, his dreams of righteous law-enforcement to be cut short. He ignored the strong temptation to reach inside his jacket for his gun.

“Go.” His own voice was cold, uncaring. The guard’s gaze switched to him, eye wide, “Leave now, go into hiding, tell nobody of what transpired here tonight unless you want to die as you should have.” His words were cruelly true, but enough to get through to the man, as he shakily nodded, turning on his heels and slowly walking to the door, head bowed. But that wasn’t enough, his justice screamed in his ear, calling for a reckoning.

“Wait.”

The guard instantly turned around, head bowed ever so slightly, listening intently.

“If I let you go tonight, I want one thing in return.”

The amount of nods he got in response was almost amusing, “A-anything.”

His grip on Akira tightened, he felt a shuddering breath escape the other boy’s undoubtedly broken ribs, “Names .” The guard didn’t refuse, a good sign, “I want the names of the men in here before Sae Nijima. All of them. Within 24 hours.”

A tall ask, since their identities had been kept a secret, but he was assured it would be possible- especially with the frantic agreement from the guard.

“Excellent, now leave.”

Not another moment was wasted, the door swinging shut beyond the man. The bang made Kurusu jump slightly, and Akechi refrained from running a hand through his hair in reassurance, like he’d seen the other thieves do so many times.

His voice melted into a soft whisper, turning to look at Akira’s shaking form.

He was running on borrowed time, the underground interrogation chambers wouldn’t be so peaceful forever, already he had wasted time getting ‘rid’ of the guard.

He’d have to be a lot more careful than he’d expected, and of course the task would be harder, but Akechi was determined to succeed, just as he had been before arriving in the room.

“It’s okay Akira,” Akechi reassured, repositioning his body carefully so he could carry the other boy, his words a promise shared only between them, in the silence of the empty room, “I’m getting you out of here.”

[tentoriwrites]

Choose Your Own Adventure Prologue: Azai, Oda, Tokugawa

It was a very clear day as I looked up at the sky. A few wispy clouds flitted by on the spring breeze, painted orange, crimson, and purple by the freshly setting sun. It was busy tonight; all the rooms had been booked and I was told several important lords were going to be here. That wasn’t unusual for this time of year. Although winter still hung in the air, it was clear the last visages would slough off soon. As if on cue with my distant thoughts, a blob of snow slid off the awning with a splat. I looked up at the awning with a lazy gaze and sighed. One of these days I would like nothing more than to enjoy the blankness of a winter’s day. But today was not that day…

I stood inconspicuously outside in plain clothes watching people filing into the expansive restaurant and teahouse where I worked. The only telltale sign I was anything more than a passerby was my hair still up from the night before. Though, it lacked ornamentation. Rumors passed the lips of the people all around me about how the Oda were in town. I suspect that was the rather large group I saw roaming around earlier.

“You aren’t thinking of running again on a night like tonight, are you?” A gruff man’s voice called to me from the door way. “You know Milord is counting on you to entertain our top clients tonight.” I turned my attention from the twilight sky to him. It was the samurai assigned to guard me. Well more like he was my warden.

“I know… Lord Azai Nagamasa and some of his retainers are here tonight.” I replied feeling the energy already leaving my body as I trudged towards the door. “Rumor has it the Oda reserved a large room as well but did not request me.”

“Neither did Lord Nagamasa.” He explained following me through the bustling corridors. “However, the Asakura are trying to romance them so we need to present our best.” I nodded as we headed upstairs to my room. He left me to change into my very formal attire and all the trappings. If any of the lords had seen me on the street, they wouldn’t recognize me now with all this makeup on and my hair full of pins. I hefted my koto into my arms and headed downstairs to the room I knew the Azai were in. As soon as the door slid open I saw Lord Nagamasa and his gorgeous wife Lady Oichi. The rumors of her unparalleled beauty were so true I found myself a bit speechless. He quickly noticed me at the door and motioned for me to come in.

“Forgive me my rudeness.” I said quietly as I pressed my head to the floor. “I thought I had somehow died and a heavenly creature had come for me…”

“Mejiro?” Lord Nagamasa’s head quirked to one side as he regarded me. “It is you! You’ve grown so much since I saw you last!” He beamed excitedly. “What were you talking about?”

“Your wife, Milord. Truly the rumors of your beauty pale in comparison to the reality of your radiance, Lady Oichi.” I replied bowing to her. She hid her face with her fan as she giggled.

“Who is this charming young lady?” She asked regarding me carefully.

“This is Asakura Mejiro. Well Mejiro is her childhood name. I have known her for years but I haven’t seen her in quite some time. This is a great treat!” Lord Nagamasa mused delighted as I moved my koto and settled myself in a far corner.

“Wait… Mejiro?” Lady Oichi quirked her head to the side as she regarded me even more intensely. “The Songbird of Kyoto?” I looked up at her, careful not to meet her eyes. Her face was glossed over in anticipation.

“That is what some people call me…” I replied a bit apprehensively. She suddenly burst into absolute glee.

“Oh Nagamasa!” She sighed romantically. “You set this all up, didn’t you? You knew I wanted to hear the rumored Songbird of Kyoto and you feigned ignorance to keep it secret!” Since she was looking right at a bewildered Lord Nagamasa I snuck him a wink and a nod.

“Well what kind of husband would I be if I could not indulge you from time to time.” He answered quickly as he turned to her with a smile. She was absolutely glowing, her love for him clear on her face.

“I am truly honored that the magnificent Lady Oichi wished to hear me perform. I shall give you nothing less than my best performance!” I beamed before putting fingers to the strings. “Do you have a request?” She shook her head no so I just started playing. She seemed to hang on each chord, every word making her eyes shine brighter. When I finished the first song, she seemed fit to burst.

“Do you find my performing to your liking, Milady?” I asked hopefully.

“Nagamasa.” She turned to her husband looking rather stern. “When the Asakura come to Odani next I demand she come with them. I would like for her to play for us at the feast.” I stiffened slightly and looked toward Lord Nagamasa.

“Well I will certainly speak to the proprietor, he’s a friend of mine in the Asakura clan. And her Father as well. Her Father will certainly be coming as an advisor and bodyguard. I don’t see why she couldn’t come with him…” Lord Nagamasa looked to me then back to Lady Oichi. She liked his response.

“Please sing more for us!” She beamed turning back to me. Her radiant smile putting me at ease.

“As you wish, Milady!” After only an hour or so, I heard a commotion in the hall. I paid it no mind as it died down quickly enough. That is until the doors opened and the lord and proprietor bid enter.

“Please forgive the intrusion, my friend.” He went on in a congenial tone as he sat down before Lord Nagamasa and Lady Oichi. “You may be well aware Mejiro has a bit of a reputation. It seems another customer is requesting her.”

“Ah. I see. That is well enough, I doubt I could get Oichi to leave so long as she can keep listening to Mejiro play. Milady is quite taken with her.” Lord Nagamasa replied with a bracing grin.

“I am glad to hear you enjoy her performance so.” The Lord Proprietor grinned in fake relief. “We do aim to please!”

“Then you’ll permit her come to perform at Odani for us when the clans meet next. I will not take no for answer.” Lady Oichi announced rather than asked, her features firm yet dignified.

“But… but of course, Milady!” The Lord Proprietor stammered as he bowed deeply. He had no choice now but to let me go, whenever the meeting might be. “If you will excuse us...” We both bowed deeply once more. I followed my Lord but stopped just inside the door.

“It was nice to see you again, Lord Nagamasa.” He smiled and nodded.

“Take care, Mejiro.” I smiled and nodded back before leaving the room and closing the door.

 “Lord Oda Nobunaga heard you singing and demanded you entertain him.” The Lord Proprietor hissed in my ear as he grabbed me by the neck. “You had better impress him or he might just kill you…” He squeezed my neck loosely as a warning. “If he doesn’t… I will…”

“And lose one of your most lucrative meal tickets? I doubt that…” I scoffed yanking his hand from my throat before dropping to my knees at the door opposite the Azai. He got down on his knees and announced us before sliding the door open. I shuffled into the room behind him with my koto and sat down, smiling brightly in the corner.

“This was the singer?” A man with piercing grey eyes scoffed as he regarded me with nothing short of disinterest. “She looks like nothing more than another one of the painted dolls you keep around here. Bring me the real singer or I’ll have your head.” He gestured vaguely to the Lord Proprietor with his closed fan. As much as I wanted to laugh at how my Lord was squirming, I knew I would pay for it later. Before he could make any explanation, I took a kerchief from my sleeve to wipe the makeup from my face. Before actually taking the makeup off, I sang and sang.

“If painted dolls are not to your liking, I could take it off to suit your tastes, Milord Oda.” I went on as he settled himself in a sitting position. The Lord Proprietor quickly turned his gaze back to Lord Oda Nobunaga.

“Unless you plan on bringing me something acceptable to eat, get out of my sight.” He snapped eying the proprietor in a rather disinterested manner. My Lord excused himself quickly, leaving me to the wolves of the Oda clan. Or at least that’s what I thought… Lord Nobunaga settled himself comfortably and looked me over discerningly. “You’re the nicest dressed painted doll here. You must truly be the best… But then again if you were the best, why didn’t they bring you before me first instead of that shrill harpy?” He asked as I folded the kerchief up and returned it to my sleeve.

“It is often said that my singing is a novelty, Milord. People are only interested in hearing it because I cannot sing in the popular style. That I have no real or true talent.” I explained as I strummed a song on the koto. “Perhaps, the Lord Proprietor thought it offensive to someone has great and powerful as Lord Oda to present someone such as myself to you right off.” I added trying to hold firm in the face of the man known as the Lord of Hell.

“No real or true talent?!” An older samurai exclaimed boisterously, startling me just enough that I almost played the wrong chord. “Those people cannot appreciate real talent and art then!”

“Well said, Lord Katsuie!” The man sitting next to Lord Nobunaga quietly agreed.

“That last one really was shrill. I thought my ears were going to explode.” A samurai in a pink kimono muttered before knocking his drink back.

“If you keep saying things like that, the only marriage you’ll have is to a flask of sake, Puppy.”  The samurai next to him teased.

“The Hell you say?”

“Enough you two…” The man beside Lord Nobunaga chided them gently before looking to me once more. “Forgive me, but have we met before?”

“I believe so, although we were both much younger. You were being aided by my family. Well a more powerful branch of it, that is, Lord Akechi.” I replied with a sanguine smile. He looked at me thoughtfully for just a moment longer before the distinct look of dawning realization struck his features.

“You were one of the young girls that visited Ichijoudani from time to time… We used to play shiritori and read poetry.” His lips formed a pressed smile. “I’m afraid I have forgotten your name though.”

“You probably knew me by my childhood name. Asakura Mejiro.” I replied continuing to strum a new song.

“Yes, of course…” He shook his head slowly. “You’re the Songbird of Kyoto then, aren’t you?”

“I am honored my reputation has traveled so far as the lands of Owari.” I replied with a bow.

“Enough talking. If you’re a song bird then sing.” Lord Nobunaga huffed.

“As you wish, Milord.” Despite his rather rough demeanor with my Lord, Lord Nobunaga contented himself to eat desserts, drink tea, and listen to me sing. The Oda were not at all what I expected. They praised me after every song and were constantly asking after me to pour their drink or to let them pour a drink for me. They were a very lively group, especially Lord Shibata Katsuie and Lord Maeda Toshiie.

“Lady Mejiro.” Lord Katsuie addressed me very seriously. “If I were ever graced with a daughter I should hope she be half as talented as you!”

“Perhaps you shall have your wish if I buy her and take her back to Owari.” Lord Nobunaga mused with a mischievous grin. “I might permit you to adopt her.” I hid my face behind my sleeve and feigned a giggle. He was not the first to suggest negotiating I leave with them, he would not be the last.

“You honor me with such praise.” I bowed to him but when I raised back up the look on his face was completely serious. “Oh…” I gasped quietly before I could stop myself, his piercing eyes seeming to see right through me.

“Do you not think I could make it so?” He was testing me.

“I know not what monetary value Milord would place upon me. Nor do I claim to know what you would be willing to pay for a novelty such as I, Lord Oda.” I answered honestly as I saw no better recourse. I dared not shrink away from him though, something told me weakness was not something he accepted.

“If I am to buy something, I only buy the best quality. People are no exception.” The look on his face, the tone of his voice, the way he said it as if it were nothing… I knew he was serious.

“I…” I tried to speak but words failed me to start with. “I am so flattered I cannot even speak…” I stammered out feeling my cheeks growing very flushed. “Thank you for such high praise, Milord.” I bowed to him deeply, pressing my forehead to the floor. For my efforts, I earned a satisfied smirk from Lord Nobunaga.

“All this talk of buying people is rather off putting, don’t you think?” Lord Toyotomi Hideyoshi cut in with a lighthearted tone. “Let’s get back to singing and drinking!” Although I would never dare hope for it, I secretly wished Lord Nobunaga could have bought me and taken me away that day… Alas, the Fate of Tragedy was not done with me…

“Mejiro! Please hide me!” One of the other entertainers sobbed as she came running into my room.

“What on earth is going on? What happened?” I asked soothingly. Based on her dress she had been with a customer and things must have gone poorly.

“Tokugawa Ieyasu!” Was all she gasped out before sobbing again. I just nodded. He had a terrible reputation among all restaurants and teahouses in the town. He got his kicks on degrading anyone and everyone. If he couldn’t degrade you he would try to break your decorum only to degrade you.

“Oh? Is that right?” I smirked a little. “You leave the bratty little lord to me…” I mused getting to my feet and starting to change.

“What are you going to do?” She sniffled looking up at me with puffy eyes.

“Why, what does a petulant little brat want more than anything else?” I beamed with a mischievous smirk.

“Something he can’t have?” She replied finally starting to smile. “You think you can honestly do it?” She got to her feet and started to help me.

“I’m certainly going to try.” I replied before taking a deep breath to mentally prepare myself for what was to come. Once I was ready enough to finish on my own, I sent her down for a spring treat, strawberry daifuku. I met her in the hall near where the Tokugawa were. With the plate in hand, I wandered slowly down the hall singing quietly. I paused by the door and took a bite of one of the daifuku.

“Where on earth is that enchanting singing coming from?” An older sounding voice said from in the room.

“I think it’s coming from the hall.” A much younger voice answered.

“Nothing better than daifuku on your day off…” I mused loud enough to be heard through the door but still more quietly than a normal speaking voice. I started singing and walking off slowly when the door slid open behind me.

“You.” A rough voice called from behind me. I casually looked over my shoulder at the face staring back at me. A man in purple and gray with a wild head of brown hair was eying me disinterestedly. “Get in here.”

“Oh! Forgive me, Milord! I didn’t know that room was in use right now!” I faked the sincerest apology as I bowed deeply. “There seems to be a mistake. I’m not working today.”

“But you do work here.” He pressed with growing irritation.

“Oh… well... yes but today is…” I pretended to be flustered when another man came completely out into the hall.

“I would be very grateful if you would oblige us today, Milady.” An older, balding samurai interrupted as he gently pushed the first samurai back into the room.

“Oh…” He was genuinely earnest in his request which through me off my game a bit. “Well when you ask so nicely, I suppose I have no choice.” I beamed happily. “Excuse me if this is rude but let me finish this one daifuku since I already started it.” I added quietly with an apologetic bow. He just smiled and offered me a handkerchief to wipe the dust from my fingers. I bowed to him again as I chewed and followed him into the room. I was still chewing discreetly as the samurai took his seat and I briefly surveyed the room, plate of daifuku in hand.

“If you’re looking for someone to give those to, give them here.” A blonde lord with a completely uninterested gaze barked and I looked at him. I got on my knees before him and offered him the plate.  “I demand amusement… You’re the only who hasn’t been in to try to provide it. If you value your life, you’ll do better than the other pitiful excuses for entertainers sent before me.” The blonde, who I could only assume was Tokugawa Ieyasu said as he took the plate from me.

“When Lord Ieyasu speaks, you had better listen.” The first samurai I spoke to sneered with a grin. I just smiled happily as I swallowed to bite I had been chewing.

“Forgive my ignorance.” I bowed my head to the floor. “I did not know the great lord Tokugawa Ieyasu was in need of amusement.” I added as he plucked one of the daifuku off the plate and casually stuck it in his mouth. “Those are one of my favorites.” I added as I looked off to the corner.

“Kaneko.” I addressed the utterly mortified girl sitting there. “Would you please see my koto brought down? It seems I will be tonight’s entertainment.” I went on with a congenial smile. She practically leapt to her feet and alighted from the room.

“Of course! Right away, Mejiro!” She called as she left.

“Mejiro?” The older man lacking in hair asked with a delighted current to his tone. “The Songbird of Koto, Mejiro?” My face lit up in delight as I regarded him happily.

“I am truly honored to know my reputation precedes me so.” I answered bowing to him deeply.

“I suspect the honor will be ours!” He beamed happily as he clapped his hands together.

“What are you going on about, Old Man?” Lord Ieyasu asked rather bored sounding.

“She’s the best entertainer this teahouse has to offer. There is a wait list over a month to have her entertain for you.” He beamed happily.

“Surely I am a novelty at best.” I hid my blush from his unabashed compliments with my sleeve. He was so genuinely enthusiastic that I knew this would be at least a bit easier.

“Well she’s certainly more pleasant to listen to talk.” A fourth, younger man commented from an opposite corner. “Hopefully her singing voice is just as pleasant.”

“If her reputation is to be believed she sounds like a heavenly being come to earth.” The Old Man gushed.

“Milord! Surely I am no such thing!” I was blushing in earnest now. There was a voice from outside the door and two people came in with my koto. They sat it before me then beat a hasty retreat. “Ah! Now I can begin!” I sighed as I strummed my fingers over the strings to check the tune. “Do any of you have a request?” When no requests were immediately made I started to play the most popular tunes of the day.

“Is this all you know how to do?” Lord Ieyasu wondered looking at me rather bored.

“This is merely my specialty. I would be more than happy to entertain you with a game or some other amusement, Milord.” I replied smiling like a fool. No matter what game we started, he quickly put an end to it. It dawned on me that this was a game for him. A game I had no intention of letting him win. He let out a soft sigh dripping with annoyance as I slid the koto aside.

“You do realize your life is on the line here, yes? So, if you are the best this teahouse has, it’s not looking good for you…” There was a flash of amusement behind his disinterested gaze. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“The land You ruled; An emperor, A very god, Your great palace Stood here, I heard; Your great hall Stood here, they say, but Spring’s grasses Now grow thickly; The mist rises, Hazing spring sunshine: Your many stoned Palace’s place: A sad sight, indeed.”

“Have we taken to speaking in riddles?” He asked me sitting up a bit straighter.

“It’s a poem I believe.” The older man, Lord Tadatsugu replied thoughtfully and I nodded with a smile. “Don’t tell me… it will come to me.” He grinned happily as he rested his chin on his hand, deep in thought. Let’s see how long I can insult Lord Ieyasu before anyone realizes that’s what I’m doing…

“If this is your idea of a game it had better get more interesting quickly. For the sake of your life…” His words were menacing in tone, but I was undaunted.

“For my Lord’s life and for mine, too-we govern Iwashiro’s Hills: the grasses’ roots Let us weave together.” I replied with a smile as everyone’s brows furrowed from my unusual response.

“What in all the hells…” The first man I encountered, one Lord Yasumasa, griped. The younger man in the corner, Lord Toramatsu, tried to stifle a chuckle.

“Seems Toramatsu wants to play…” Lord Ieyasu commented idly.

“From Nigitatsu Would we set sail, and Did await the moon, but With the tides against us Now must we go a’rowing!”

“Yes, it is…” Was all he said and the other men glanced at him suspiciously.

“The conscripts Say not, “Morn and night,” As they pass along the road, But every one of us Follows the path of service.” I replied with a smile.

“It is as you say…” Lord Tadatsugu chimed in having realized where my poems were coming from.  “Though it seems Lord Ieyasu does not quite follow your meanings…”

“Then perhaps one with an obvious meaning…” I pressed my finger to my lips as I thought of the worst poem I could possibly say. A smile alighting my face once it came to me.

“To your mighty body, You strapped your sword; In your hand, You held your bow; Your warriors, You summoned: The call to arms Drums’ roar The thunder Spoke; The sounding of The battle horns were as At the foe A tiger roaring. Many folk Were thus struck with fear. High flying Banners snapping? Buried in winter, With the spring The fields Are set ablaze; Fire with the wind Blows back and forth? Held, The snap of bowstrings: As a snow-covered Winter woodland Rent by a whirlwind, Twisting round and over, It sounded, Terrifying: Loosing, shooting A multitude of arrows, A blizzard, Confused and falling; The unruly Foe stood fast As dew and frost, “If we die then so be it!””

It was clear the meaning was not lost on him this time, on any of them. There was a deafening silence as not one of them dared to breathe. Still I smiled serenely. The disinterest on his face melted with each word until now he was outright glaring at me. I had won, his mask had utterly cracked and mine was still quite perfect. He got to his feet and traversed the room. Grabbed me by the throat he pulled me to my feet. “And just what are we implying?” He seethed as he stared me in the eyes, venom dripping from every word.

“It is only natural to be afraid of tigers… It takes a great many arrows to kill them. But I’m sure for an archer of your renown though you could pierce one in the heart on the first shot.” I coughed out with a smile.

“Lord Ieyasu! If anyone should have the privilege of having your divine cruelty upon them let it be me!” Lord Tadakatsu sounded entirely to enthusiastic over the prospect of being choked by Lord Ieyasu. But Lord Ieyasu’s grip on my throat loosened as he glared over his shoulder.

“That was a very foolish thing to do. You do realize I’m going to have to kill you now…” He hissed in my ear so only I would hear when he looked back at me.

“One must do what one must do. At least if I am dead I’ll no longer be trapped here.” I whispered back into his ear. Alas, the Fate of Tragedy was not done with me just yet…

“It’s not amusing if you ask for death…” He sighed as he released my throat, donning his disinterested face once more. “Get out of my face…” He added returning to his seat.

“As you wish, Milord. It has been a pleasure.” I bowed and took my leave, a wake of stunned faces behind me as I slid the door closed. I stood there a moment rubbing at the bruises on my neck with a grimace.

“What… just… happened?” I heard one of them ask as I started to walk away but I didn’t recognize who had spoken.

“It seems even Lord Ieyasu has a match…”

“If you value what’s left of your hair, Old Man, you’ll shut up.”

“All I’m saying is that you should seriously consider settling down soon. As the leader of your clan producing an heir is… AH NOT MY HAIR!”

“What a ridiculous thought, me marry Tokugawa Ieyasu… The thought of me marrying anyone seems unfathomable… Who would want to marry someone like me?” I thought to myself as I rubbed my arm and wandered back to my room.

Continue?

Yes

No

[unfunny-quips]

Snippets from The Disappearance of Amamiya Ren: Part II

Part I is here.

Part Two:

It’s an exhausting three months that follow.

Akechi Goro wakes a free man years after the rest of the world had forgotten he even existed. The former detective is shaky and confused when he wakes. The nurse, when Sojiro speaks to her, reveals how strange the boy’s return to the world was. Dead to the world one second, blinking awake and rasping a reply in a conversation only he knew the next.

“He was saying something about someone being sentimental.” The nurse tells him, face pinched as she peers into the hospital room where the gaunt man is being coached through small exercises by his physical therapist. He has a long road ahead of him getting back muscle mass and balance he lost while laying stationary for so long. Sojiro doesn’t envy him the coming months.

The nurse meet’s Sojiro’s glance with a soft, uncertain expression and he knows she’s going to tell him something that’s going to break his heart even more than it already is. 

“He asked where Amamiya-San was, kept saying they had just been talking.” The nurse looks equal parts apologetic and sad, her gaze a little misty as she speaks.

Ren had been beloved by the staff at the long term care facility. A fixture as present as any doctor, nurse or orderly. He visited Akechi every single day he physically could since highschool. Spending hours speaking to the comatose boy or reading aloud to him - sci fi and fantasy, mythology and folklore, occasionally even the Arsene Lupin series, though Sojiro’s a little unclear on why that series specifically. Ren would comb out Akechi’s hair and trimming the slowly growing scruff on the unconscious man’s chin, make sure his nails were kept trim and neat. Akechi was the most well cared for patient in possible all of Japan, from the way the nurses tell it. 

Ren never told Sojiro that he was in love with Akechi, but then he never had to either.

Actions, Sojiro felt, said far more than words ever could.

The nurse clears her throat a little, her voice still heavy as she says, “I think he remembered hearing him, while he was in the coma.”

Sojiro pretends his own eyes aren’t watery and gives a soft, sad sigh. His grey gaze turns to Akechi - looking pale and weary after only a few minutes of small, carefully movements with his arms and legs - and feels a heaviness in his chest. A pressing weight that has been there since he got that first call, since the moment Ren disappeared.

When they’d come to the hospital to see him - Sojiro, Futaba, Sae and, surprisingly, Ann - the first thing the former detective had done was furrow his brow in confusion, eyes tracing over each apprehensive face carefully. Sojiro remembers the silence that choked the room, the heavy uncertainty from both sides as to just how they were meant to handle this situation. Remembers the way Akechi’s eyes narrowed as he weakly turned his head as if to look behind them.

Then there had been that rasping sound. A voice unused for nearly a decade, worn thin by the exhaustion of being part of the waking world so long.

“Where is he?”

Like it was impossible that Ren would be anywhere else when Akechi Goro had clawed his way back to the conscious world after nearly a decade. 

Sojiro understood that disbelief. It was just as impossible a concept to him and the rest as it was to Akechi that the dark haired thief would not be there. Would not have already made camp in the hospital room and started making plans of living arrangements and therapy schedules and a future that had once seemed impossible. How could Akechi come back and Ren not be there?

Ren who hunted down specialists and research that might possibly be able to pull Akechi back. Ren who had never given up on Akechi, no matter how many people told him he should. Ren who never loved anyone half as much as he did the boy he met so many years ago.

That Ren wasn’t there when Akechi had finally come back...that more than anything made Sojiro afraid.

---

“There’s something going on with the Amamiya case.”

The news is...disturbing. On more levels than one. Sojiro frowns as he stares down at his coffee, rolling his unlit cigarette in between his fingers as he considers what he’s being told.

It’s been a little over half a year since Ren’s disappearance, and they’re no closer to finding him than they were the day the news broke. Just a gaping hole of an organization that by all accounts didn’t exist and the distinct lack of any sign of Ren. When one of his old friends who still worked in CIRO called, Sojiro had been hopeful that there was news. A lead, a clue, hell he’d take a ransom letter from a foreign agency at this point so long as it meant some clue as to just where he’s son is. It’s the uncertainty that’s killing him, the not knowing just what he’s fighting against to get Ren back.

It’s not a lead though. Instead the news his friend gives him is...unsettling. Ominous really. The kind of news that speaks of something big at the horizon, a threat of a storm nastier than what they can really weather.

“They’re forgetting.” His friend says, her voice hushed and strained. She sounds like she’s locked herself in a broom closet, hunkered down in a corner like a child afraid her parents might find her up after bedtime. “I was checking in with Shibata to see if he had any luck looking into that lead I told you about -” 

Another wild fox chase they’d uncovered. A collection of documents that supposedly held Ren’s itinerary for his time being loaned out. Sojiro had discounted the idea as soon as he heard it - shady organizations, in his experience, didn’t do itineraries - but had asked that the likely dead end be followed up anyway on the off chance that it gave them something tangible to chase. Shibata was one of the newer faces running around, fresh on the job as Sojiro was leaving but a good nose for investigation from what Sojiro had heard since. 

“And when I asked him,” his friend continues with her strained whispering, “He had no idea what I was talking about. Thought I was asking about a new case at first and then that I had lost my mind. And he’s not the only one.” There’s a noise on the other end of the line and Sojiro listens as his friend goes quiet. 

For long seconds she doesn’t even breathe It sets Sojiro’s teeth on edge, being forced to wait and listen to the stillness on the other end of the line. After a moment he hears the soft shush of a tense breath being slowly released after being held for too long. He’s thankful for the sounds, it helps remind him that he can stop holding his breath too.

“They’re all forgetting Amamiya.” She whispers, voice shaky. She was always one of the good ones, steady in the face of every disaster Sojiro had ever seen her face. Whatever is happening, it’s bad. Bad in a way that he has no idea how to face on. “It’s like the kid never existed at all. I even checked records and nothing. There’s nothing showing he ever worked for us. That even existed.”

He sits on that information. Worries at it like a loose tooth. He tells the kids and watches them sink their teeth into the information. It’s a little like watching piranhas devour their meal.

Akechi is still hospital bound. One day in a coma equal to one week in recovery, one doctor tells him and he knows from the determined look in Akechi’s eye that the young man has taken that as a challenge. He spends his days unable to join in the more physical aspects of the chase, but uses all the strength he has to offer up his ideas. His mind is still as sharp as ever, though he does look helplessly young and disoriented at times when he thinks no one is looking.

He still insists he was speaking to Ren before he woke up.

None of them have the heart to tell him outright that they think it’s just wishful thinking. 

A few days after his call with his old coworker, Sojiro calls her back looking for an update on some of the leads she’d found. She’s less tense than before, voice warmer and louder, and he can hear the buzz of the offices around her.

She doesn’t recognize the name Amamiya Ren. 

She only just remembers that she was helping him with something, but her voice drifts and she wanders to other topics of conversation whenever he tries to ask her about it. When he presses her about his son they slip into a loop in which she never quite grasps what he’s talking about. They speak in circles for ten minutes before there’s a pause and she asks him, pleasant and vague, why he’s calling.

He thanks her for her help and hangs up.

[sweetbunpura]

I’m Your Sword and I’m Your Shield Ch. 19

11/1

J: After school, I'd like you to deliver the calling card.

Are you sure about that?

I'll be easily spotted in the lobby

J: I'm aware of that, but this is your fight.

J: For your best friend and teammate.

P: Don't worry, Ace.

P: Morgana and I will come with you as back up.

Q: Do you have a jacket or something with a hood?

I think so

But, it's one of Ryuji's

So, it's gonna be loud

J: That'll be fine, as long as it hides your face.

O: You can do this, Ace.

F: We'll be counting on you.

N: One last step and we'll have him.

Currenly you, Ann, and Morgana were sitting in the lobby of your father's workplace. You're rereading the messages while keeping an eye out for Takeshi coming back from his break. You subconsciously pull your hoodie down further as Ann settles down next to you.

"You know," You look up a her, "Ryuji once said that he normally leaves closes at your house. Is that true?"

You wave the sleeve of the jacket at her, "Where do you think this sucker came from?"

"Won't that get annoying after a while?" Morgana pokes his head out of your bag.

"Not really." You lean back against the chair cushions. "I got use to it. Hell, he stays over so often that the guest room is like his second bedroom."

"...You must really love him, huh?" Ann asks.

You sigh, "Yeah... I really do... It just took a few months."

A small silence falls after that as the cool air of the lobby circulates throughout the space.

"He loves you too..." You look at Morgana in surprise, "He might not say it, but it's in his actions."

"He does talk a lot about you." Ann offers up a small smile.

You smile back just as the front door opens and Takeshi's voice filters in.

"Did you miss me while I was gone, Kaya?" You scowl at the man as he leans against the receptionist desk.

"No. Here." The woman handed an enclosed envelope to him.

"What this?" Takeshi opens the sleeve of paper and pulls out the calling card. "The hell?"

"You got a calling card?!" Kaya's yell gains the attention of everyone in the lobby.

"Here we go." Morgana says.

"Manager Iori Takeshi,

slithering snake trader of forbidden fruits,

We know the deals you've made and the lives you've ruined,

and that you've taken an innocent soul to make sure your twisted desires go unopposed.

That's why we have decided to steal those desires and make sure your forbidden fruits expires before your eyes.

For all those lost souls you've taken, this shall be done today.

From the Phantom Thieves of Hearts"

Takeshi is practically steaming by the time he finishing reading the card and everyone around him starts gossiping. The air shifts around you and the others as the room turns dark and only the shadow version of Takeshi is seen.

He scowls at you and the other. "If you think you can stop me, then bring it."

You hear alarms as the shadow disappears. The room turns back to normal and you can see that more people have gathered around Takeshi.

"We need to leave before he sees us." Morgana says and Ann gets up to leave.

You pick up the bag and give one more glance at the man before leaving the building. The others are waiting outside as you and Ann walk over to them.

"Did he read it?" Akira asks and you nod in reply. "Let's go."

The world becomes a vast amount of swirled red and black before your eyes until Takeshi's Palace stands ahead of you.

"Ace." You turn your gaze to look at Joker. "You ready?"

You look towards the Palace before casting a determined gaze at your leader. He pats you on the shoulder and leads the way into the workplace with everyone following after. It doesn't take you long to reach the treasure, having already cleared out an infiltration route yesterday. Joker opens the door to the office, only to be greeted by Takeshi leaning against the desk behind him and holding the treasure. The shadow takes off his glasses, glowing, narrowed yellow eyes take in the thieves as he straights up.

"You think I was just going to let a couple of teenagers waltz in here and take my treasure?" He closes his eyes. "Think again!" Reptile like eyes greet you and the others as Takeshi's body grows large as darkness covers him.

You and the others back up as the shadow's new body circumferences the room. The darkness bursts away from the shadow to reveal a large snake with gray shifting scales, lighter gray underbelly and a hood similar to that of a cobra.

"I'll show you just how snake like I can be!" He roars and dives towards you and the other.

"Move!" You hear Joker order out in haste.

You leap to side, barely dodging the shadow turned snake, and landed on the other side with Crow, Fox, and Oracle. Takeshi turns his body around before crashing into the wall, his eyes turn their attention towards you and you ready yourself in response.

"Oracle, status!"

The red-head summons her persona just as the reptile darts towards you. You quickly bring up your broadsword to block, sliding back slightly in the process from the hit.

"Ace!" You hear Fox yell out.

"I'm good!" You reply and try to figure out how to get Takeshi's attention off of you.

You feel the cold air of a Bufudyne and you leap back quickly just as a chunk of ice hits the snake.

"Thanks." You land besides the masked ice-user.

Fox nods in acknowledgement.

"It doesn't have any weakness!" Orcale's amplified voice echoes out.

"Hit it everything we have!"

You and Fox summon your personas, he casts another Bufudyne while you hit it with a Rising Slash. Takeshi nimbly dodges the ice move only to be hit dead on with the physical move. Crow summons Robin Hood and casts a Kougaon at the reptile, pushing it back to where Joker and the others were. The other summon their personas and hit the snake with a myriad of spells. Takeshi collapses with a pain filled hiss, a heavy silence falls across the battlefield as the snake makes no move to get up. You watch as his scales raise up and change to yellow before the shadow sends out a Mazionga. You, Crow, and Fox barely manage to dodge the electric based attack.

"Mona!" You hear Panther cry out.

The snake's scales change to blue as it casts a Mabufula, hitting both you and Panther. You fall backwards, world spinning around you.

"Ace! Panther!" There's someone helping you to your feet just as Takeshi changes his scale color back to gray and sets up a Tarukaja.

"The hell was that?" You mutter out.

"He can change his scale color, it seems." Crow answers.

"That's just like a snake!" Ann yells, "If we do enough damage to him, he'll just do it again!"

"Is there any way to tell when he does it?" Joker asks, while avoiding a basic attack from the shadow.

"When he falls, but until then, let loose." Oracle answers.

You and the others repeat the process until Takeshi falls once and Joker orders a guard. The scales change color once more and there's a Maragion coming at you and the others. You all successfully guard against it, although you catch Fox muttering something about fire on his costume. Eventually the beast falls after another round of spells and makes no move to get back. Joker signals for a hold up and you all train your guns the the snake.

"To think I'd fall to the likes of you." Takeshi hisses and struggles to lift his head. "A couple of brats and a cat." He looks at you. "To think the kid that was so wimpy grows up to gain a backbone..."

Joker turns his gaze towards you, "Would you like the finishing blow?"

"Yes."

Joker calls for an all-out-attack and you finish off the snake. The beast dissipates into the fallen human form of Takeshi and the glowing form of the treasure materializes over. You hold out your hand and the treasure land in your palm.

"A pen?" Panther looks at the item.

You turn the black and golden etched pen around in your hand.

"Sakamoto."

Your head whips up at Ryuji's surname and you glare at Takeshi. "What about him?"

"He's alive."

You can hear some of the Thieves gasp in surprise as your heart stills for second.

'He's alive!'

"But that gun shot..." Panther trails off.

"It was meant to shut him up." Takeshi groans as he sits up. "Figured you won't do anything if I 'killed' him. Guess it back fired on me..."

"Where is he?" You ask, hand curling into a fist around the pen.

"Completely fine in one of the room of the warehouses." The shadow starts to disappear and the ground begins to shake. "To think I'd be the one to mess up this bad. He's going to have my head."

"Who's he?" Joker asks.

Takeshi let out a quiet chuckle and the shaking increases. "You'll find out soon enough." He disappears after that.

'What does he mean by that?' "We need to go!" Mona calls out, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You follow the rest of the Thieves out of the collapsing palace, barely managing to avoid some of the debris. The real world rushes to greet you and you nearly stumble into the fountain outside the office, if not for Akechi grabbing you by your arm.

"Thanks."

Morgana jumps up onto your shoulder. "So what was the treasure?"

You reaching into your hoodie pocket and pull out a old photo. On the old photo, a smiling kid stands between a man and an elder. The two older men are smiling and have their hands draped across each other's shoulders. In the background stand a fairly large house with a set of cars in the driveway. The kid is holding up something that appears to be a signed piece of paper.

"That's it?" Morgana huffs out.

You turn the photo around and read what's on the back. "To my grandson, I hope your business become successful. Love Grandfather."

"It appears to be the first deal he ever made." Akechi voices.

"All this for a photo..." You mutter and look up at the building ahead. "I want to go get him..."

"Not until Takeshi change of heart happens." Makoto says, "We can't risk confronting him now."

You sigh and nod, Ann gives you a reassuring pat on the back and starts to leave the area. The others follow and you slowly tag along, but not before throwing another look at the workplace.

'Tomorrow. Wait for me tomorrow, Ryuji.'