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hymnofmistral · 10 months ago

Text

Fragmented (working title)

Chapter I "Justice Shmustice, Can we Leave, the lights are giving me a headache"

For more, go here

Gritting his teeth, Akechi Goro thinks absentmindedly that his enamel must be non-existent at this point. The world wobbles slightly, gravity teasing him as he feels lighter. As expected.

For a moment, he’s actually impressed by the Phantom Thieves. Of course, that’s soon drowned out by embarrassment seething anger. Fabric crackles as his gloved hands tense. How could I be so fucking stupid, I–

He waits a moment, listening to the muffled clicking of Sae’s discount heels, of the off key hums of fluorescent lights, echoing into nothing.

Inhale… Hold… Exhale…

A cold door clicks shut behind him, and muscle memory takes over. The guard mimicking cognition collapses, but doesn’t disappear. Akechi hums a brief note, and he is most certainly not impressed in the slightest. He feels plastic and empty eyes on him, and Akechi’s frown twitches as he ignores the ‘presence’ in the room.

Inhale… Hold… Exhale…

Gliding a finger over the screen of his phone, the world shifts once more. Akechi feels heavy again, feels the soreness of his overworked muscles and dim aches of bruises he isn’t sure how or when they stained his skin. Not that he ever cared much in the first place.

A quick scan of the room, and he notes there is no guard, but there is one person. The person who is currently in police custody, for crimes decorated in Akechi’s own fingerprints.

Meeting grey irises, Akechi finds– He freezes, staring ahead at the person he expected to find, but is not at all who he expected to find. It’s a Ren unlike he’s ever seen.

Goro sees him, a broken husk of the once flashy and fearless leader of the famous phantom thieves, Joker. Amamiya Ren. One by one, fond and confusing memories shared with Ren flood over him. It's nauseatingly dizzy, and he desperately grasps for his buffer, his detective prince mask.

Slumped against a metal table, his bruised cheek pressed against what must feel cool, Ren sees him. Through damp swirls of hair, sticking to his face, grey eyes hold him. He watches Akechi with a half surprised, half fearful, and fully distant expression.

Normally, the surprise is something amusing to Goro, something he can take sour pride in. But the trails of dry tears and smeared eye-liner, of deeply saturated bruises on pallid skin, of inflamed injection sites and wrists scraped raw by metal cuffs, is far louder.

Goro's mother crosses his mind. This happens now and then, especially when Shido manages to piss him off on a new level. But, for the first time in years, her memory is vivid.

He can see her carefully practiced smile, makeup smoothed under her auburn eyes to hide the dark circles.

Memories snap at him with sharp teeth, ruthless and poisonous. As a child, he desperately shoved them beneath the dirt and paved over them. He learned to survive the bitter cold and loneliness that clung to him in orphanages and foster homes. He would just simply…not feel.

Memories continue to flood in. His mother arrived home late into the night, clothes askew, golden hair tangled and frizzy. Collapsing into couch cushions, she’s asleep before her head meets the pillow. A young Goro quietly removes her shoes, and tilts her head. She hates to get ‘pillow face’, whatever that means.

Goro thought he had long since buried this. It was over. He already dealt with this. So, why is the numb outer shell he's meticulously crafted, his detective prince mask, shattering?

He remembers her muffled crying behind the bathroom door, something he only accidentally catches, when he leaves school early one day.

It always felt fragile to Goro. That brief moment of his life where he felt even a drop of what others call "love" or "safety" or "connection." How she smelled of flowers and rain on days they spent together. How tightly she held him when he bruised his collar bone.

All pieces of her return through one trembling breath.

Her soft voice recounts tales of heroes at bedtime, gifting each character with their own voice.

Why can't he stop shaking…

His mother dozes off during storytime, and young Goro clings to the warmth she brings to his bed, to the sound of her steady snores.

Why can't he breathe...

These were memories he only ever took out as a child, during quiet moments under blankets or under the stars on an old and rickety roof. It was a failed attempt to protect himself in particularly unwelcoming foster homes, or against playground bullies.

Anger. Hate. These, he’ll feel. He’ll wield them as weapons, as tools, to avenge her, and to protect himself. Goro distances himself from memories of a world once brighter with his mother breathing. He would only ever acknowledge them from a safe distance, to stoke the flames of revenge.

But, now? Now, they’re too loud to ignore. Vicious and traumatic memories carve into him, pulling stitches, ripping apart old scar tissues.

Goro is terrified. He's terrified he's made a tumbling collection of mistakes. He's stained his mother's once kind memory. She could never be proud of who he has become. He's let the monster he despises, the reason that all of these destructive decisions and plastic conversations exist, derail his life further. He's destroyed his own mind.

Goro is terrified, and it hurts.

Make it stop!

Akechi prides himself on being "fearless". Shut. Up. Makeitstop!

But it's a lie. A distorted reflection, staring back at him from his crimson mistakes. Akechi fears being unloved, hated, and worthless. He fears failure, and being anything less than perfection. He fears who he truly is under all of the bullshit. To feel alone, abandoned, empty.

But what he fears most, is the idea of not being alone anymore.

Thunder crashes distantly, as childhood Goro squints into the darkness of his home. It takes him a moment to recognize her silhouette, and another to realize something is very wrong.

Makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop!

He has wrestled with and snuffed out every piece of real affection or fondness he has ever felt since. If Goro cares, if he belongs somewhere, if he matters, it could all be ripped away. It would be ripped away, shattered by his own gloved hands.

Goro remembers the quiet clatter of his toy falling to the ground paling in comparison to rain desperately tapping at the window. Silent, in comparison to his panicked heartbeat, his unanswered cries for his mother to wake up.

Fuck.

His mother seemed so frail, despite her age. In one of her hands, is an empty bottle once home to medication. In the other, she loosely clutches what appears to be…

It hurts so much…

It's the bird figurine he gifted her for mother’s day. It’s sloppy, and the scarlet stomach puffs a bit too much to one side. There was only so much his childhood hands were capable of.

Red and blue lights swallow her, casting shivering shadows into her still features. She doesn’t smile anymore. There was so much he could never be capable of.

Goro looks at Ren, and feels furious. Oddly, not at Ren, but for Ren. For his mother. For himself.

That poisonous politician will never infect another life. It's too late to save his mother…but, myself and Ren… We will not accept defeat so easily.

-----------------------------------

***Stay tuned for more ~

Ch 2 and 3 here

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hymnofmistral · 10 months ago

Text

Fragmented

Chapter Two & Three

( Chapter one here )

Posting here now...

-------

Chapter Two, I'm walkin' 'ere, aka forget the couch, you're sleeping on the stairs

----‐—------------

Cool winds and rushed sounds of Shibuya craft an unsettling white noise. There's overlapping chatter, store entrance dings, and low humming of signs.

* * *

After some difficulty, cuffs were removed, and clothes were changed to travel incognito.

It was lucky Ren carried extra layers in his bag. Taking a quick detour to a public restroom, they each pull on a hoodie or scarf, obscuring their faces and usual attire. Goro even agrees, begrudgingly, to let Ren recreate a moment they shared outside of a pastry shop months prior.

It's ridiculous. Ren struggles to pull a hoodie on, stumbling or wincing in pain. Yet, he manages to flash that teasing smile, after ruffling Goro's hair. As if everything was completely normal.

Ren clumsily reaches out, wielding his prescription-less glasses, only to hit air, missing Goro's face completely.

A snort escapes Goro, quickly shifting into a throat clearing. Ren is smiling again.

Goro mutters, "Stop looking at me like some stray puppy."

There's something mischievous and foreboding in grey eyes. Before Goro can question it, the infamous leader of the phantom thieves is mimicking the sad whine of a stray puppy.

Ren barely starts the noise, and Goro immediately shuts it down. "No no no. Shut the hell up."

Ren continues to hold him with that ridiculous smirk. Rolling his eyes, Akechi releases a curt sigh. Lightly pushing past Ren, Akechi picks up the pace just enough to inconvenience his drugged follower.

He'd never admit it, but only a moment later, and Goro slows his pace to match Ren's unsure and hesitant pace.

…

Sounds of downtown fade into distant waves, as rustling of leaves and the occasional stray cat meow welcomes them to Yongen-Jaya.

It smells like snow...

Ren's playful energy drains rather quickly as they continue their walk. It's clear he's losing the battle against whatever drugs were forced into his body. His movements are slow and wobbly, as he stumbles his way through back alleys Akechi leads him through.

Ren shifts between stumbling into Akechi, and tripping over his own feet. He’s mumbling apologies, when Akechi offers him an arm to help keep him steady, murmuring, “You need to eat.” Ren assumes it’s just part of the thick haze suffocating his mind.

His consciousness is slipping. The city falls silent, and Akechi disappears. Static swallows him, all coherent thoughts dissolving into panicked oblivion.

***

“Case closed…”

Something warm sticks to Ren's forehead and cheek. It's a stark contrast, compared to the cold table his head lays on. His neck feels stiff and awkward, but it's too heavy to move. The sticky substance spreads, slowly seeping into his line of sight. Crimson…a puddle of his own blood.

***

"Oh, HELL NO!" Shakes him from dreamland.

Grey eyes blearily crack open, seeking the source of the frustrated voice. Fabric greets him instead, in the form of a sharp collar peeking through an old jacket of his. The fabric smells of warm nights and soothing jazz, of sugary sweet drinks and chit chat growing into debate.

The world stumbles suddenly, and his heart lurches. Oddly, he doesn't hit the ground, or even need to catch himself.

A panicked voice approaches, scolding, "Wait, Ryuji–! You'll knock Renren over, too!" Sounds like… Ann? And Ryuji?

There's an unintelligible grumble, followed by a harsh whisper that tickles his scalp. He notices how warm he feels then, as arms adjust around him.

Oh. Someone must be holding him. … I'm dreaming, still. Or…a memory? Thinking only thickens the dizzy nausea, so he latches onto something else to keep him distracted. Ren stretches his hand, latching onto the soft fabric his face is pressed into.

***

The familiar scent of carefully brewed coffee and curry wafts in the wind. It's a formless landmark, letting Goro know Leblanc is near.

Turning into the alley, he's immediately greeted by concerned phantom thieves. He expected this, of course. But, he didn't expect Sakamoto to be as dumb as to shove and threaten him so loudly. Foolish of me not to. After all, he’s the person who practically yells in public about being a phantom thief.

Ryuji’s shove is fortunately only enough to cause Akechi to stumble, thanks to Ann’s quick intervention.

"Don't touch me." Akechi snaps, and realizes he doesn't need to be plastically cordial with the thieves anymore. They know. "Look, your precious leader is alive. No need to shove me. Or touch me. Don't. "

After reprimanding her blonde friend, Ann approaches the pair. She inches in close to peek at Ren. Her shoulder brushes Akechi's (borrowed) jacket, and he tenses. She doesn’t seem to notice, leaning closer to brush strands of curly hair from Ren's pinched face. It's such a gentle and loving gesture.

Discomfort stretches over Akechi, which he recognizes as jealousy. A twisted and contradictory jealousy.

Part of him, buried deep down, desperately desires to be loved and cared for in that way. In the way Ren's army of thieves cares for him. In the way Sumi beams at him, or the fondness Sojiro watches Ren with, something protective and proud.

Another part, a strange possessive crinkly sort of thing. This part believes that Ren is his. In the way only he is permitted to touch Ren so affectionately. Or the way those grey eyes hold him sometimes… warm, dreamy, and anxious. Or when that competitive flame consumes Ren. Akechi doesn't want to share these pieces of Ren. They’re his.

Logically, Goro knows it's bullshit and unfair to feel that way. It's ridiculous. Ren is Ren, and he gets to choose how to live his life. Who to trust or cherish or hate.

So, Akechi desperately burries these thoughts. Ignores and avoids those thoughts. Afterall, there is no future in which they both win. And Goro feels knows the best outcome, the right outcome, will be in Ren's favor. Ren is kind, strong, a beloved hero. All Goro is… All I am is abandoned and worthless trash.

“He looks…bad,” Ryuji clears his throat nervously.

“He’ll live,” Akechi replies apathetically.

"Says the murderer," Ryuji scoffs, his voice growing in volume at each word.

“You ought to lower your voice,” Akechi warns.

Ren groans, and Akechi considers dropping him. If you're up, may as well stand. I'm not the Mona-mobile, and I'm already tired of your friends.

“What the hell did you do to him?!” Ryuji panics. “You weren’t–he shouldn’t–”

"Can you stop yelling for one second?" Akechi whisper-screams.

“Guys!” Morgana attempts to cut in, hopping onto Ann’s shoulder.

"When I know my best friend is safe, sure!" Ryuji steps forward, glaring threateningly. Akechi glares back, daring Ryuji to hit him.

"Guys! Ryuji! Shhh!" Ann scolds in a whisper.

"But he–!" Ryuji stammers.

“Listen to lady Ann!” Morgana cuts him off.

Akechi, just barely, manages to bite back a smirk. Adjusting his footing, he's about to place down their leader. But, he feels Ren snuggle into his chest, and Ren's fingers tighten around the fabric of his tie.

Akechi tenses at the gentle touch, and most certainly does not blush. It's a natural response to the cold, is all. “Don’t… you’re gonna choke me like that,” Akechi huffs nervously. “Unless that’s your intention…”

“I’d be for it.” Ryuji smirks.

“I’m floored,” Akechi says dryly.

Ren’s only response is the sound of soft snores, and Akechi sighs. Out again, hm? He’s about to mention Ren ought to eat, but Ann speaks up.

"How could we leave him behind to go through this," Ann whispers to no one in particular, barely loud enough for the three near her to catch. "I didn't think…" She trails off quietly.

“It’s not your fault, lady Ann,” Morgana reassures.

“Yes,” Makoto says, drawing attention to the remainder of the thieves. “We all agreed.”

“But he wasn’t–” Futaba mutters simultaneously as Ryuji says, “We didn’t agree to–”

“Akechi? Why did–,” Ann starts, but hesitates.

“He’s fine. Just needs to eat and rehydrate,” Akechi replies. “Now, can we…?” He nods towards Leblanc’s entrance.

"Yeah, let’s go inside, everyone," Morgana meows. "Someone could be looking for him. We should wait to talk inside. And check in with Sae."

That confirms Sae's involvement, Goro thinks. What was Takamaki about to ask, though?

"Forreal?" Ryuji's shoulders sag, and Haru places a hand on his shoulder with a reassuring smile.

“I understand how you feel,” she whispers softly, “But Mona-chan is right. We don’t want to put Ren-kun in any more danger.” With a huff, Ryuji nods, patting the top of Haru’s fluffy hair.

Curling his head further against Akechi's shirt, Ren releases a painful hum.

Futaba whispers, "Ren?"

"Ren-kun," Haru speaks softly, her voice shaking as she peeks from behind Makoto. "Can you hear us?"

“Welcome back,” Akechi mutters as he attempts to let Ren down again.

Ren’s grip on him tightens, and Akechi stumbles forward, almost losing his balance. “You’re going to knock us both over, idiot,” he hisses. Ann helps to steady him again, and she looks between the two with an amused smile.

“What?” Akechi’s tone is soured by her smile.

“Dizzy,” Ren murmurs, comfortably leaning back into his detective friend’s chest, “goodnight.” Akechi freezes, regretting coming here with every fiber of his being. Ann’s following giggle only embarasses him further. For the first time, he’s thankful for Ryuji’s distracting voice.

"What if he's trying to trick us?" Ryuji mumbles.

Akechi scoffs, "Why would I bring him back here, where you all could ambush me, you daft–"

"We should," Makoto's voice starts sharp, softening once she knows she's gathered the group's attention, "continue this inside. Come on, everyone."

"Ah, one moment," Yusuke hums, flipping his indigo hair from his intense eyes. Creating a view finder with his hands, Yusuke crafts a frame around Akechi, Ren, and Ann. "Hold that pose! Such strong emotions. The worry of a beloved."

"Wh–what?!" Ann squeaks. Akechi’s brow furrows over auburn eyes.

Unfazed, Yusuke continues on, "The one thought to betray him, his savior at the last moment!"

"Forreal, dude?" Ryuji mumbles uncomfortably.

Akechi and Ann both look at Yusuke with a deadpan expression.

Makoto is already entering Leblanc after holding the door for Haru. It softly jingles, redirecting the group's attention again.

"Someone take him," Akechi mutters, actively avoiding eye contact with everyone.

"Would you mind if I took a picture?" Yusuke inquires. "The lighting out here will be impossible to recreate insi–Ooph!"

"Come on, Inari!" Futaba yanks on his sleeve, ignoring the way Yusuke stumbles through the doorway.

Yusuke certainly is… unique, Akechi muses to himself.

"Could you put him down inside?" Ann asks. She and Morgana are the last two remaining in the cold alley with him. She adds with a smile, "please?"

The sooner this is over, the sooner I can–... Akechi answers with a grunt, entering Leblanc, Ren in his arms.

***

Warm light spills over Leblanc's interior, as welcoming as ever, a stark contrast to the late hour and recent events.

"Yeah, but," crouched on one of the barstools, Futaba whines into her cellphone. "Sojirooo!"

Akechi's back hurts just looking at her hunched over form.

"We should put him in his bed," Morgana nods towards the stairs with his bright blue totally-not-cat eyes.

The thieves share chatter as Akechi latches on this opportunity to leave the crowded café for a much quieter attic. What are they up to? Inviting me in, and… Strange.

"We should probably let him rest before bombarding him with questions," Morgana suggests after hopping on the bar top. Then, redirecting his attention, Morgana asks quieter, “What happened back there, anyway?”

"I would like to know as well," Makoto chimes in.

Right. Of course they have questions.

"It would be best to follow your original plan, keeping him hidden for now. As far as Shido knows, Amamiya is dead, and it's best for all of you, if he continues to believe that," Akechi's tone is low and robotic, as he realizes he hasn’t thought much of his own next steps.

Fuck. Do I have to hide? No. I need to find out what he knows first. Any footage should support if I say I killed him in the metaverse… I should find a way to download the file and delete any other trace of it just in case.

“So, it truly is the politician pulling all the strings,” Yusuke hums.

“Do you think it’s his fault that my mom…” Futaba mutters, “I gotta check some stuff when I get home.” Ann rests a comforting hand on her shoulder, and the two share a smile.

Squished into a booth, Ryuji and Makoto sit on either side of Haru protectively. Ryuji speaks to her with an animated expression, coaxing a small smile from Haru. Makoto’s attention is on her cell phone.

Leaning against the table, Yusuke seems to be staring off into space. “What changed your mind?” Yusuke tilts his head towards Akechi.

Pulled out of his thoughts, he regards the artist. He expects to see anger or hate watching him, but Yusuke’s expression seems genuinely curious. Certainly unique… “It doesn’t matter,” Akechi mutters. Yusuke watches him, seeming to consider a response. He decides against it, directing his attention to Futaba.

"Oh! Um,” Futaba catches Yusuke’s gaze, and it reminds her of the phone conversation she had only a moment ago. “Sojiro said it was fine for us to be here to wait for Ren-bro," Futaba explains, as she returns her phone to her pocket, "But… Mona's right. That we shouldn't crowd him. Or the café."

"I suppose rest would do us all some good," Makoto says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s been a long day, and we know he’s safe, so…” Her voice is distracted, as she gathers her bag, and adjusts her coat. “Are you all settled here?”

“Safe?” Ryuji says to no one in particular. Haru seems to mirror his words through her expression.

“Good to go, my queen!” Futaba salutes as she hops to the floor. Then she points at Akechi, “You better not harm one hair on my big bro’s head! Or else.” She finishes her warning with a punctuating 'kssshh' as she drags her finger across her neck.

Akechi’s mouth twitches, and then replies, "You have my phone bugged. So, it's not as if you’ll miss anything."

"Good point," Futaba smirks with one of her patented cartoon villain laughs.

Akechi stares back with a perplexed frown. What the actual fuck? Are they planning to leave me here after…

"Mako-chan?" Haru pokes her friend’s shoulder, who has stopped right in front of Leblanc’s entrance. Makoto waves off with a reassuring smile, pulling out her phone. "Oh!" Makoto visibly relaxes, "It's sis. She wants to talk at home. I should hurry, then.” A bit more banter is tossed between the group as they all squish through the door.

"We're not seriously just leaving him alone with Renren?" Ryuji says from the doorway, crossing his arms. It’s the fifth time Akechi has heard Ryuji mumble something similar, since they entered the cafe. It’s a bit annoying, but Akechi agrees with him.

“Ryuji, you’re letting all the cold air in!” Ann pushes him.

“Ow!” Ryuji whines.

"I'll protect him, don't worry!" Morgana chirps.

“One of us did remember to contact the doctor, yes?” Yusuke asks, making no move to leave.

Sighing, Akechi begins the task of carrying another man up a very narrow staircase. Carrying Ren through alleyways was fine. But, carrying Ren up steps? Not so much. But, he’s not about to admit that in front of the bumbling idiot thieves.

“Sojiro did,” Futaba confirms, and immediately after yelps as her phone sings to her. “Okay, gotta retreat to home base for real!”

"Not to be rude, " Ryuji says, "But it's not exactly reassuring that a cat–"

Akechi knows exactly what comes next.

"I'M NOT A CAT!!!" Morgana practically yowls as the entrance jingles and clicks shut.

There it is.

“Ann and I will be here,” Yusuke speaks quietly, “I hope that eases your worries, Ryuji.”

“Oh,” all anger drains from Ryuji’s tone as he asks, “forreal?” Yusuke proceeds to explain his next train isn’t for another hour, and Ann announces she’ll be staying with Futaba.

Distracted with his own dizzying thoughts, Akechi misses the way one of the steps juts out unevenly. “Shit.” He stumbles, barely catching himself and Ren as the step squeaks in protest.

The three remaining thieves all react simultaneously to the noise.

“Oh my gosh!” Ann gasps, “Are you okay?”

“Would you like some help?” Yusuke offers.

“Hey! Careful with our goods!” Morgana yowls from the bottom of the stairs.

“Executive decision, your leader will be sleeping on the stairs,” Akechi mutters in an annoyed tone.

Then he hears it. A snicker escapes Ren.

Oh my gods, this stupid asshole…

“Oh, fuck you,” Goro groans dramatically, releasing his hold on Ren without warning. Ren hits the stairs with a thud, groan, and a surprised laugh. He grasps the banister, leaning against Goro’s legs to stop himself from rolling further down the steps.

“Ow,” Ren winces through a breathy chuckle, “It hurts to laugh.”

“Good,” Goro huffs.

A surprised meow leaves Morgana, “What is going on?!”

“I didn’t wanna walk,” Ren half laughs- half mumbles, slightly slurred. Ann is giggling now, while Morgana sighs.

Goro pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering to Ren, “I hate you so much.”

-------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter Three, Everyday's great at your Leblanc, even greater when you're getting me coffee

------------

Goro’s not sure what he expected from a sketchy back alley doctor, but it certainly wasn’t Dr. Takemi, dressed like she has a solo in ‘Repo! The Genetic Opera’ the musical. Ren sure keeps strange company. Helpful, but strange.

While Dr. Takemi examines and treats Ren upstairs, with Morgana’s supervision, the few still there occupy the cafe with Ann’s suggestion of coffee.

“Either of you know how to make the coffee?” Ann has her palms pressed against the bar, while a green apron that says ‘Hi, Call me Akira’ hangs over her frame.

Goro smoothly bites back a laugh. Ann was the one who suggested coffee, but of course, she didn’t think much past that. To be fair, she was most likely used to always having Ren there to provide the drinks, as Goro was. Or, should he say Akira?

Ren had really tried to convince Goro that was his actual name. Too bad for him, they first met without a nametag and green apron. When Goro asked him, “why ‘Akira’?” Ren had ducked his head, the light catching his glasses in a way that hid his eyes. “It sounds mysterious.” Ren had replied with an embarrassed smile, his face flushed a warm tone of pink. It was one of the first times Ren caught Goro off guard enough that his detective prince mask slipped into a genuine smile. He’d never admit that to Ren, though.

“Unfortunately, I am not well versed in the brewing process,” Yusuke, seated at the bar to Akechi’s right, laments.

“I didn’t really think that one through, huh?” Ann giggles with a sheepish smile. “How about I get you two gentlemen a couple glasses of water?” Ann’s voice slightly shifts octaves, as she tests out what must be her customer-service voice. She turns towards a fridge deeper in the kitchen, and Goro fights a smile.

He remembers a couple of stories Ren shared with him through giggles, about Ann’s terrible acting skills, of a photo he snuck of her wearing what seemed to be an entire clothing store’s inventory. Goro supposes Ann could be tolerable company.

Hm. Goro remains on guard, trying to keep a neutral expression and tone of voice. He’s never been alone with Ann and Yusuke before, or any of the thieves without Ren. Occasionally Makoto, but always with Sae present as well.

A low hum pulls his attention to his phone buzzing, sparking anxiety. Hesitantly, his auburn eyes glance at the caller ID, and pin needles crawl up his spine, draping him in quiet panic. Silencing his phone, but not ignoring the call, he returns his attention to the two thieves sharing casual chatter. Breathe… Breathe.

“I believe a brown apron would suit you much better, Ann,” Yusuke hums, “with light blue buttons.”

“Excuse me?” Ann returns with three water bottles, hand on her hip as she challenges Yusuke.

“The green is so…” Yusuke trails off, “the word escapes me. It’s…?”

“Every day’s great at your Junes,” Akechi half murmurs, half sings, "-esque."

It’s not until he meets Ann’s and Yusuke’s very amused expressions, that he realizes he’s done that out loud. Oh. Oh gods, no.

Akechi clears his throat, “The, um, Junes apron color. They recently scrambled to change the color design after that oil fire scandal.” He can feel the stares on him intensify with each word that tumbles from his mouth. He decides to take a drink of his water to shut himself up.

Ann bursts into a fit of giggles, while Yusuke smiles at him with starry eyes.

“Please excuse my sleep deprived mouth,” Akechi mutters as the detective prince mask slips back into place. “Oh, is that the time already, I really should get out of your hair–” Why am I still here, anyway? …Where else would I even–

“No! Wait!” Ann snatches Goro’s forearm, and he realizes he’s still wearing Ren’s frayed edge jacket. “I wasn’t making fun, promise! It was just, well…” Ann presses a finger to her lips as she hums in contemplation.

“Authentic,” Yusuke answers.

“Yeah, that!” Ann chirps, releasing her hold on him.

“What do you mean by authentic?” Akechi frowns.

“Oh, please! You really thought we were buying that perfect-basic barbie-loves sweets-prince act?” Ann smirks.

Yusuke snorts this time, and Akechi is speechless for a breath. “Poetically said as usual, Ann,” Yusuke teases. Ann sticks her tongue out at her friend in reply.

“I,” Akechi struggles for coherent words, “basic barbie?!” Ann shrugs nonchalantly, twirling one of her ponytails as she takes a sip from her water.

Goro wants to bring up that she’s a model and should understand the importance of keeping a certain image in public, but he decides to steer the conversation into hopefully-less fruitless commentary. “Anyway... How long have you known?” Goro asks calmly. “I found out about the bug, obviously. But, what made you decide to do it in the first place?” I thought I was so careful. He tries to ignore the shame taunting him distantly.

Ann hums in thought for a long moment. Goro’s gaze wanders the cafe aimlessly while he waits. He notices Yusuke sketching on a napkin, with charcoal of all things, and wonders how many art supplies he has on his person at all times.

“PANCAKES!” Ann suddenly shouts, and Yusuke’s smooth line of charcoal becomes jagged, and Akechi nearly chokes on the sip of water he had just swallowed.

“Oops, sorry!” Ann says in that bright tone of hers, a tone that would sound plastic coming from anyone else.

Yusuke doesn’t seem too bothered, adapting to the shift in his art piece, while Akechi coughs roughly. One way or another, they’ll be the death of me.

“Elaborate, please?” Akechi grumbles once he catches his breath.

“That’s how we knew you had been to the metaverse,” Ann explains. “We were talking about breakfast foods or something. Mona brings up pancakes when we bump into you, and you asked about it, probably thinking it was one of us.”

Akechi blinks.

“Soooo,” Ann drawls, “pancakes!”

Akechi opens his mouth, hesitates, and closes it. He repeats this three times, and sighs. Resting his forehead against the bar, he focuses on the cold spot of condensation his water bottle made.

“Um…” Ann pokes his shoulder, checking on him, “Akechi-kun?”

“Perhaps he doesn’t remember such a simple discussion,” Yusuke suggests. “Also, Morgana isn’t exactly a traditional metaverse phenomenon, like our personas. As far as we know.”

Ann replies casually, “I guess I wouldn’t expect a talking cat. Well, now, I’m not sure if anything could surprise m–”

“Pancakes?!” Akechi manages in an exasperated tone.

“Um, yeah…” Ann replies, and he can hear the nervous smile in her voice.

“Fucking PANCAKES?!” Akechi groans. Ann confirms nervously again.

Breathe in… Hold… Exhale…

“You okay?” Ann asks in an unsure tone.

Sitting up straight, Akechi quickly fixes his hair. Then, avoiding eye contact, he mutters, “I will never eat or even look at another pancake for the rest of my life.” Ann bursts into another fit of giggles as Yusuke smiles fondly, and Akechi definitely doesn’t hide a smile behind his fist.

“Oh, we should play a game or something! While we wait.” Ann suggests. Catching Goro’s stiff posture, she adds, “You, too, Akechi-kun!”

“Why wou–”

“I won’t take no for an answer,” Ann steam rolls, “And I’ll just keep talking until you say yes anyway. Talk about everything, talk about sweets! Personally, my winter favorite is anything with powdered sugar or soy bean paste. But I–”

“Will you shut-!” Goro pauses, then releases a curt sigh. “Just… Stop. Please.” He rubs at his temples tiredly. “I concede.” He glares at Ann then, who is twirling her hair with a triumphant smile, on her way towards one of Leblanc’s shelves.

Yusuke continues the chatter, idly looking at his phone, “Perhaps we could…”

You two are irritatingly sunny.

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