"The awful thing was that beauty was mysterious as well as terrible. God and the devil are fighting there and the battlefield was the heart of man."

― Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

October 7th

The circumstances this time around were much, much more different than their previous encounter, but still just as puzzling.

An explosion went off near Akira — too close too close — shaking the walls of the tunnel. Dust bloomed in the air from the force of it and it feels as if the place would come crashing down, but logically, Akira knew that it wouldn't. He didn't think that anything made out of humanity's unconsciousness would crumble with any sort of ease.

… He might be wrong though. The insistent ringing in his ears made it hard to be a clear judge.

No matter. Akira cartwheeled around the Dakini that was Oda Hanae's shadow, his gun flashing brightly in his hand. Mid-turn, a One-Shot Kill bullet whistles by his ear, missing him by a narrow margin. He gritted his teeth in annoyance as he swung his arm forward, ferociously returning fire.

His shots found their mark successfully. Akira landed with a grin as he watched the shadow flinch backwards. It's not deterred however, as it recovers quickly. A tell-tale glow surrounds it as the Shadow roars its fury — it's gathering its strength.

It's with opportunate timing that Oracle finished her scan. Over the intercom, Akira could hear her shout, "Everyone! It's weak to fire!" Sweat gathered on her forehead as she cast a Matarukaja spell. Near instantaneously, the burn of exhausted muscles was lifted, albeit temporarily, as the spell rejuvenates them. Underneath his skin, Akira felt his power purr in exhilaration.

Their reinvigoration saved them. Before the shadow could strike, Joker and Ann took advantage of its vulnerable position. With a coordination born only from endless hours fighting side-by-side on the battlefield, they took it down fashionably. An electric stun, a backflip over the agidyne spell he had bought time for Ann to charge up, and the shadow collapses in a heap. Screeching in pain, the Dakini clawed wildly at it's face, desperate to quell Ann's scorching white flames.

Without even a second spared, the Phantom Thieves collectively tear into their opponent. With a despairing cry, it reverted back into the form of Oda Hanae. She collapsed to her knees, head hanging low in shame and defeat.

"I— I lost?!" She looked at her hands. "That can't be… Everything will be taken away from me again!"

Tears drip down her face. "What the hell am I supposed to do…?" Akira looked down at her. For some reason, he can't help but find her pitiful. This woman who had been constricting his friend for so long all because of her own insecurities. He crouches down so that they are face to face. "You have your son, don't you?"

"Even so, even so I—" She wiped at the corner of her eye. "I was terrible."

"That may be so." He dipped his head sideways. "But that doesn't mean that that can't change."

"Here." In his hand, a picture of a radiant child. "Look."

She did, and the sobbing quieted. "You're right," she finally said, fist unfastening. "This entire time, I've already had the greatest happiness. How was I so blind?"

"Oda-san."

She lifted her head.

"You care for your son, don't you?" She nodded. "Learn from your mistakes. Change so that you could make up for everything." He held out his hand.

"Yes…" she took it and they stood together. Oda composed herself and gave him a strange look, "You're so young, yet you know exactly what to say."

"Kurusu-san… could it be that you could understand because you were in Shinya's position?"

"…"

"I'm sorry, that was rude of me. One last thing. Tell him that I'm sorry for me," she whispered. "Please."

"You could tell him yourself." She gave a minute nod before she fades away. A single soma dropped into his hands.

Akira took a moment to cradle it in his hands before pocketing it. With a sigh, he stood and turned to look at the team. He said, "That's the last of the requests."

"Are we going back now?" Morgana asked.

"Sure," Joker smiled. "We're a little short on money and items, though, so we'll take the long way around."

"You got it."

Joker stepped back in line with his teammates as they watched the Monabus appear.

"You okay?" Ann asked him. Holding her hands behind her, she leaned forward to look at him.

"Mhm. Why?"

"You looked a little uncomfortable back there," Akechi said.

One by one, his friends file into the Bus. Akira himself climbs into the driver's seat. "Was I?"

"Yeah," Ryuji poked his head into the space between the two front seats. "What were you talking about?"

"Nothing much."

Makoto's eyes flicker over to him, "Really?" Darkness covered them briefly as they left the area.

Akira sighed, "Yes. It's really not a big deal. Nothing like a few days back." He turns his head for a moment to look her in the eye. "Besides, I told you guys about it in the end, didn't I?" He gave a smile. "If it really was anything you'd know about it in time."

She huffed a bit. "Alright. Now put your eyes back on the road."

"Yes, ma'am," he breathed through the mirth bubbling in his gut. When he turned his head forward, though, he saw Haru looking dumbfoundedly out the window from the rearview mirror.

"Haru?"

She doesn't reply.

This time Joker doesn't settle for just a glance at the mirror. There's no mistake. One hand pressed against the window pane, Haru was looking out at something with what was almost an expression of awe. He called again, "Haru?"

At this point the other Thieves have taken notice. Yusuke placed a hand on her shoulder and gently shook her.

"Akira-kun, could you please stop the Bus?"

"Yeah—" he pulled them to a stop. "Is something wrong?"

"Maybe I was imagining it, but that intersection back there wasn't there before, was it?" she said. "I thought it could have been something that opened up after the last Palace that we overlooked, but we pass through here so often that that can't be."

He wasn't really paying attention when they were passing by earlier, but she's right. They did pass an intersection earlier when it should have just been a straight path. Then almost on a whim - the gear was shifted into reverse. "Let's go take a look."

The Thieves all followed Haru's line of sight as the Bus retraces its steps. Sure enough, the tunnel branches off. And at the end of the branch, a half open broken metal gate stands ominously.

One by one, the Thieves exited the Bus.

Joker carefully observed the crisscross of chains still attempting to hold the double doors closed. Based on the damage patterns, it didn't really seem like anything had hit it per se. More like the chains had loosened and the doors rusted with time.

"Oracle," he started. "About how long do you think we have?"

She fiddled with her holographic monitors a bit. "We haven't been in the section long, so 10 minutes, give or take."

He put a hand under his chin and furrowed his eyebrows. "…"

"Hey Akira…" Ryuji said suddenly. "You're not saying that we should go in there, are you?"

He didn't reply.

His friend turned to him. "You can't be serious."

Joker tipped his head a little in apology.

"Nuh-uh. That thing screams 'bad idea.'" Ryuji crossed his arms.

"I'm inclined to agree," Akechi said. "It looks harrowing." Ryuji looked at him in surprise, but took it in stride. "See! Even Akechi thinks that we shouldn't go in."

"However, I think it is, at the very least, worth checking out," Crow drew his laser saber from his sheath. "Better now than later, when it could disappear." Ryuji threw his hands up.

Akira gave Akechi a small nod before turning to the others, "And what about you guys?"

"I'll follow you, Joker," Yusuke asserted. At his side, Mona, having returned to his smaller form, said, "So will I." Makoto made a hum of agreement. Ann draped her hand around Ryuji's shoulders and grins. "Us too. Right Ryu- Skull?"

"Ah damn, I get it, I get it," he protested her manhandling and squirmed out under hold. "Me too." he scratched the back of his neck.

Together, they cautiously approached the gate, guard rising with every step. Up close, Joker could make out the intricate, if old, filigree delicately framing the elaborate panels. What appeared to be chains from afar also turned out to be metal vines so lifelike that he would have mistaken it for real if not for the metallic glint.

"It's beautiful," he heard Yusuke softly say. Akira doesn't voice it, but he agreed. And if he was reading his teammates correctly, they share the same sentiment.

Dauntingly beautiful.

Slowly, Akira stepped closer to the blackness beyond the doors. The sound echoed around the chamber with every footstep. Breath hitched, Joker reached out and led them across the threshold.

Akin to a flame being lit, a dim light bloomed into existence.

"Is this… a train station?" Crow asked. His words were quiet, yet the sound travels swiftly across the expansive area. In front of them, a large hall stretched endlessly out from a circular chamber. Save for the glowing blue clock face etched into the chamber floor, nothing appeared to be more than the regular irregularities one might find in the Metaverse.

They gripped their weapons and creeped forward, footsteps thunderous in its juxtaposition with the surrounding stillness.

Tap.

"This was strange," Oracle looked down at her holographic map as they made their way around the clock face. "I can't map out the area. I can't sense a single shadow around either."

"…" He quickened his stride ever so slightly.

Tap. Tap.

Together, they approach that cavernous darkness. One step in front of the other, their advance feels nothing more than a slow crawl in the expanse of the area. Yet at last they arrive at 12 o'clock, staring at the seemingly endless pillars. As if the place itself was welcoming them in, a wave of rich blue cascades outward. Desolated black was replaced by harmonious azure.

Looking at that scenery closer now, he found what must be a train station increasingly akin to a cathedral. The long arches. The stained glass. Only the signs — labeled with unintelligible characters — gave the impression of an active hub.

A sudden, intense dread struck Akira. It wasn't as if he hadn't been feeling consternation; he had. But in that moment that feeling of caution had amplified exponentially. What was it? Was it the darkness that had only been warded away by their approach? Or was it something else? He regrets his earlier haste. Not only were they not at their peak due to previous battles, but they did not prepare themselves for venturing into new territory.

"We should leave." Akira tightened his hold on his knife. It feels as if their earlier confidence had been seeped away by the eerily quiet aura of this place. "Better to be safe than sorry." At his sides, there was the feeling of mutual agreement.

Tap tap tap tap tap

"Akira."

A bright red dot appears on Futaba's radar.

"Something's comi—

The sound of rattling chains was piercing. Joker reacted purely on instinct, grabbing those closest to the end of the hall and pulling them all back. In just the nick of time too, for a bullet takes off a part of his bangs.

"Retreat!" He yelled. The order was redundant; everyone's already broken into a sprint.

"That can't be!" Futaba gasped. "We should still have time!"

"It doesn't matter now," Akira doesn't look back as he dashes around the clock face back to where they came from. He scans the pillars for any sign of the gate. Where was it, where was it, where was it?

"Wha…?"

Akira almost stumbled when he saw that long hall once more. He risked a quick look behind him. Where there previously was an opening lies nothing more than inconspicuous concrete.

"The gate…" His steps faltered. "It's gone." Eyes wide, he's frozen at that realization.

"Ak— Joker!" Crow reached out and pulled him back by the arm. With his other hand, he swung it forward and activates a tetrakarn spell. Before them, a translucent shield shimmers into existence just before a bullet slams into it. They're pushed back by the force, but mostly unfazed.

"Go!" From the side, Ryuji jumped in and shoved them towards the hall. "I'll hold him off."

"Wait! What about you?!"

Ryuji doesn't respond to that and instead opted to summon Seiten Taisei to block a blow, the clang of a bullet hitting metal ringing clear. He thrusted his hand forward, tell-tale crackle of a ziodyne dancing around it. The attack missed, however, and Skull's forced on the defensive.

Activating High Counter, Joker roundhouse kicked one of the Reaper's bullets back at it and pushed Ryuji out of the way of the follow-up. Skull took the opportunity to draw Seiten Taisen back, leaving only a ghostly shape around his arm. Nyoi Bo appeared within his grip and he slammed it into the side of the Reaper.

"Don't think that I can't take this dude! Watch, I'll be right with you before you know it!" The expression on Ryuji's face could only be described as determinant.

"But—"

"No buts, just go!"

He hesitated.

"No." Yusuke materialized at their side. "We don't leave anyone behind." Hefting his assault rifle over his shoulder, he unleashes a volley of bullets at the Reaper's head. Behind him, the rest of the Thieves follow suit.

Unfortunately, all that served to do was momentarily distract it. When the magazine was emptied and he had to reload, Yusuke frowned as he was forced to jump back. The ground he previously occupied was scorched by a agidyne.

Just as quickly, however, Haru slipped in from below and swung her battleaxe in a graceful curve, the serrated edge of her blade mercilessly tearing through the flesh of her opponent. She called out, "Mako-chan!"

Swooping in from behind her, Makoto seared the wound with nuclear energy, irradiating the flesh and blood at the cost of cauterizing the gash. It wouldn't bleed, but at the very least, it'll hinder the Reaper's internal systems.

The towering black figure has only a snarl of irritation and a Vorpal Blade as a response.

Akira leapt back to avoid the attack. In a flash, however, a metallic glint, the rattling of chains, and then pain encompasses his senses. His head was knocked up from the force, blood spurting out of his mouth. He fell backwards, only managing to glimpse the gun — ah that was what hit him, he thought — swinging back around and headed for him. Dazed by the blow, he could only think of bringing his arms up and bracing for impact.

The impact never came.

Smack on his back and only just regaining his senses, the only thing Akira could do was turn his head to the sound of metal upon metal.

At his side was a figure clad in pure white and glittering gold, shining feathered blade entangling coils of black. Like a prince come to rescue a princess in a fairy tale, a blue cape fluttered around the elegant form of his defender.

"Go..ro..?"

The boy in question spared only a glance before he's forced to face the black monstrosity again. Belatedly, Akira realized that the blow that would have taken off at least an arm had been redirected into the now crumbling pillar far behind him. The gun was still embedded deep within the stone, and the inky coils bound around Akechi's laser saber was but the Reaper's chains, still attached to the firearm and help in the vice of that monster.

Distracted by the sight, he was surprised when he finally noticed Morgana. "Mo..r.." came the croak. His friend shushed him and cast Diarahan on him.

Their opponent roared and let loose the other gun, which crashes into the adjacent wall. The Reaper dragged the chain into granite, building up tension.

"Oh no you don't!" Ann lashed out with her whip, catching the chain at just the position and force to detach the gun from the wall and send it right back into the face of the Reaper. It's own weapon slices upwards in a diagonal, leaving a gash in that bloody burlap sack of a head it has.

As the others fend off the Reaper's attacks, Akechi helped Akira to his feet. "Are you all right?"

Concussion fading, he said, "Yeah, thanks."

In that instant, Makoto jumped out of the fight to ask him: "Do you have a Goho-M? We gotta get out of here now."

Akira shook his head. It was unfortunate, truly, that he's run out, and that he didn't have enough materials to make more. It was part of the reason why he was down here today. Again, he cursed his terrible judgement. He shouldn't have put them in such a situation.

He shouldn't have put them in such a situation.

"The entrance's gone." He shifted his weight and stood more properly. "The only choice we've got is to go further in."

He pulled out his gun and released the empty magazine. In a swift movement, he reloaded and aimed. "Mona, get ready. Crow, Queen get everyone into the Bus. Oracle, you know what to do. I'll provide cover. On three?"

At the round of nods that he saw, Joker started:

"One."

They all readied their weapons.

"Two."

Knees bent, weapons gripped.

"Three!"

The spring was released.

Eyes still fixed forward, Joker picked up Morgana with one hand and tossed him into the air. From his sides, his friends dashed forward. Their weapons tore into the Reaper simultaneously. Ease in falling in line. A gash. Breaking of bone. Burning of flesh. A spray of bullets. They were but a blur of colors as they all attacked with all their might. Hazed by the sudden onslaught, there was enough time for everyone to scramble into the Bus.

Heart pounding a thousand miles an hour, Akira gripped the steering wheel. He braced himself for a brief second, and then he slammed down on the pedal.

It didn't quite matter whether there were shadows hiding within the halls of the train station; he plowed through them with reckless abandon. Regardless of where he was, it was surely better than facing the Reaper. From her place above the Monabus, Oracle pushed her senses to their limit and gave them a stream of directions. "Right here, then 10 meters ahead, the far left."

Joker followed her directions unhesitatingly. The Phantom Thieves held onto the inside of the Bus with white-knuckled fists as the Bus sped through the paths, twisting and turning around corners. He jerks the wheel, and they've successfully turned yet again, without wasting a second of time.

They enter a large room billowing with dust. A cursory glance here and there tells him it's somehow more ornate than the halls he's passed through, but he doesn't pay much mind until suddenly—

The wheel itself jerks out of his hands. The Bus swerves around something quickly, much too quickly. They've lost their holding on the ground.. Mid-flight, Mona reverts back into his smaller form and they're all scattered around in different directions, be it into a wall, a column, or the floor.

"Nngh!" His fall was softened by a roll, but the impact hit hard nonetheless. Coughing, Akira swiped his arm through the dust and struggled to his feet. A single hand found the soma he had gotten earlier and he activated it. Instantly, his friends' wounds heal and their energy replenishes.

"Ugh…" Makoto clutched her head. "What the hell happened?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. "The wheel moved by itself." He stared down at his hands. The feel of leather tearing out of them still lingered.

"What?" Haru coughed. "Mona-chan?"

No response. They peered through the dust, looking for their friend.

"Morgana!" Ann called out. She swept her hands around, trying to clear the air. "Morgana!"

Still nothing.

"Futaba —" He's cut shot by the sight of her. She's hilariously stuck in a column. One foot still in Prometheus, she's kicking the white stone in hopes of dislodging herself. "Come on!" Annoyed by her lack of progress, Futaba charged up a laser and shot it point blank. She came loose, like she hoped, but not before crashing into the ground. The dust is kicked up and billowed away.

"You okay?!" Ryuji shouted. There's silence, and then a single thumbs up sticking out.

They all let out a breath of relief.

From the side, they heard a faint groan. They rushed through the fading dust in the direction of the sound and there Morgana was. Their friend sat up, looking like he was dizzy.

"Morgana?" Yusuke asked.

"Mmn?" Morgana blinked and then rubbed his eyes. For a second, Akira thought he saw a glimpse of gold. Akechi knelt down in front of him. "Are you okay?" Again, it seemed like Morgana wasn't really hearing him, but then he yawned a bit, and said: "Hn? Yeah."

Akira opened his mouth to ask him about his eyes, but he's beaten to the punch.

"Woah… what happened?" Morgana asked.

"That's what we were going to ask you," Makoto said.

"Huh?"

"When we were driving before, the wheel suddenly moved by itself and we swerved," Akira explained. "Were— were you the one who moved?"

"Hnnnnn…" Morgana tilted his head this way and that way. He narrowed his eyes and said: "Are you sure you didn't just lose grip of the wheel?"

He shook his head no. "I'm sure of it."

Morgana's tail drooped. Brushing himself off, he stood up, and then he placed his hand under his chin. Ears flat against his head he seemed to be thinking. "Well… I do have a vague memory of something."

"Something?"

"Yeah," he said. "We were driving and then… a sense. No, an urge… An urge to dodge?" He shook his head. "I don't know. I know that I just felt like I had to move out of the way."

"That's quite strange," Yusuke commented. "It seems as if many curious things have been happening lately."

"Well, at the very least, it doesn't seem like anyone is harmed." Makoto smiled. "It looks like the Reaper isn't after us anymore either."

"Indeed."

"By the way, what did we swerve around?" Ann messed with the end of her pigtail. "We should go check."

"Sure." They all walked towards the center of the room. Onn closer look now, Akira could see that what decorated the floor of the room wasn't quite dust, but fog. In the very center, despite their efforts, a fog still gathered around, curiously enough. Morgana sent out a gust of wind, yet the fog still did not dissipate. Akira squinted his eyes and peered in. Vaguely, ever so vaguely, he made out the pale form of a person.

"There's someone there," he said. "A man, I think."

"Could it be—"

"Maybe."

Taking a breath, he walked into the lingering fog. His hands reached down — around what he hoped was a waist — and lifted up.

Instantly, the fog dissolved into the air.

Looking down into his arms, was the naked form of who must surely be the falling man he saw some days prior. Even if he had only a brief glimpse of the features of that falling man, even if 5 days have passed since and he should have forgotten, he knew certainly that whoever this was was the very same. He could not mistake that eerie feeling of looking into a mirror and seeing the form of who was yourself, yet not quite so.

In that moment, everyone's eyes were trained intently on the blue-haired man laying in Akira's arms. Not at the world unfurling around them. Not at their displacement to the entrance of Mementos somehow.

Like a black hole sucking in all light, he enraptured them.

Akira swallowed the lump in his throat. "We should take him back."

—ζ—

There were many times Akira couldn't express fully in words how grateful he was for Sojiro. For helping without needing to ask, for being supportive despite knowing they were the Phantom Thieves, for being there.

This was one of those times.

Sojiro crossed his arms across his chest. His eyes went from the covered form of the sleeping man on his couch to the Phantom Thieves, and then back again and again. Despite his sitting position, despite the lack of words, his sheer aura demanded they explain.

For a second, no one moved. Frozen, they stood in silence under that patient gaze. Having burst in with such little notice, hauling the body of a suspicious man, it was understandable that Boss would have such a reaction.

Out of them all, it was Ryuji who spoke first.

"A few days ago, when we were in Mementos, 'Kira saw this man falling from the sky," he said. And just like that, the tension fizzed out and the Thieves could speak again.

"The collective unconsciousness."

"Yeah," Ryuji nodded. "We found him today in a strange area."

"Strange area?" Sojiro shifted in his seat and narrowed his eyes.

"I-It's just a place we haven't been to before. Nothing to worry about." Makoto waved her hands in the air. "Anyways, while we were exploring, we found him all there all alone.

Sojiro raised an eyebrow, "And he was just laying there. Naked."

Akira just shrugged. What else was there to say?

"We don't know his identity, but considering where we found him, we decided that the best course of action would be to bring him here," Akechi calmly said. The others nodded.

He's given a look, and then that gaze flickers between each and every one of them there. Sojiro closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, "You kids…"

He stood up and left the room. A moment later, he returned with a blanket thicker than the one the Thieves had hastily thrown over the man and a set of clean clothes. Sojiro threw the blanket over the man and set the clothes on a nearby stool.

Boss turned back towards the Thieves, who had been silently watching him.

"I'll take things from here." he sighed and placed his hands on his hips. "Go on home now, before you miss the last train." Without waiting for a response, he looked back at the unconscious man and rubbed the back of his neck.

"You're… not going to ask?" Yusuke asked.

"What is there to ask?" came the reply. "It doesn't look like you kids have answers anyways, so what's the point?"

"I see."

"Well, thanks Boss." Ann waved. "We'll be going now." She grabbed Ryuji's arm. "Com'on!"

"E-eh?" He's wideyed.

"Us as well," Haru gave a little bow. "Let's go, Mako-chan."

"I will see you all in the morn." Yusuke tipped his head.

"Stay safe, you kids." The corners of Boss's lips quirk up.

"You got it!"

One by one, Akira's friends left the home. Akira, however, lingered near the doorway and looked back.

"Well?"

"I'm sorry, Boss." He shifted his feet and looked away.

"For what?"

"For being such a bother."

Sojiro scoffed fondly, "If that bothers me, I would have kicked you out long ago."

"Go on, now, shoo."

"Alright." Akira took one step out the doorway into the humid night with a smile.

"Close up shop for me, kid! My age has been catching up to me; I forgot about it."

Akira sent back a nonchalant wave.

—ζ—

The taste of ash. The shaking blurring the world before and behind his eyes. Swirling and shuddering in it's immoral agony. Akira nearly let a plate slip from his fingers.

It's not like he hasn't tried; truly, he tried. He's come home earlier and he's even weaned off some of his job workload… was what he'd like to say. In actuality, he's only managed to come home later most days. Many times he did have the fortune of coming home earlier than usual — but obviously not late enough that he'd escape having to do the dishes.

Akira got the feeling that that's Sojiro's way of grounding him.

Today he was supposed to be on dishwashing duty, but with the unexpected encounter with the Reaper and the mysterious man, it was evident from Sojiro's dismissal that he was to close up shop and go straight to bed.

That's what he's supposed to be doing.

Instead, Akira's elbow-deep in soapy water, numbing his brain with the lull of repetitive motion.

"Do you need a hand?"

Akira jumped a little from his position at the sink. He'd forgotten that Akechi was still there, having followed him back to the cafe to supposedly pick up some things he had left in the attic earlier that day. Akira bets that his teammate was only there to send him to bed. Personally, he thought one Morgana was enough for a lifetime. He doesn't need a second.

He sighed and relented without so much as a word. Whether Akira wanted help or not, Akechi would probably provide it anyways, stubborn prick.

Akechi squeezed into his right, hands slipping on another pair of gloves and dipping them in alongside his. The feeling of the warmth of skin permeating his shirt pressed insistently against his side.

Akira was begrudged to admit that having Akechi there might be the much-needed distraction he's been looking for.

An uncomfortable silence filled with the slosh of soapy water and dishes clinking stretches for a tense couple of minutes. The usually indiscernible sound of the clock ticking was incredibly loud. His companion gave no outward indication of the kind-of physical contact they're sharing nor of Akira's increasing discomfort.

It's only when the silence seemed near unbearable that either of them decided to speak.

"Kurusu—"

"Akechi—"

They both started speaking at the same time. Akira flustered, gloves hands flinging water everywhere as he waves them embarrassedly through the air. Even worse, he ended up lathering the side of his face with soap when he didn't think and just brought his hand up to fiddle with his hair. Fantastic. Akechi, on the other hand, was somehow still composed despite appearing to have too been put off guard. Which. How?

Akechi, being as chivalrous as always, let him speak first even though Akira was -fervently- politely gesturing for Akechi to do so first. With yet another sigh, Akira gave in.

"Shouldn't you be leaving now? At this rate, you're going to miss the last train," Akira mumbled.

Akechi lifted his hands out of the water and leaned against the counter to look at Akira. His eyes didn't move from him, and a deceptively easy expression settled onto his face. Akira turned to face him as well, and thought for the nth time that he's never sure of what Akechi's thinking.

"It's fine. I don't have much work tomorrow." He added, "And besides, I want to talk."

"Go ahead," he shrugged in reply. Akira doesn't say that it's fine as long as he doesn't have to reply. The moment he's finished closing up shop he resolves to high-tail it to the bath house and wash away his worries.

Akechi's head appeared suddenly next to his face. Jesus Christ how was he doing that. He resisted the urge to jump and forced his face to stay still, determined not to let his discomfort show.

"I said, I want to talk," he said, smile stretched over his face. The asshole pushed himself into his personal space and Akira's forced to lean away.

"And I said, go right ahead," Akira lifted up the plate he's washing and shoved it between them. He'll never get past his Plate Shield. To his pleasure, Akechi seemed to realize the impenetrability of the Plate Shield, and retreats.

"Let me rephrase." Akechi straightened up. "I want to talk with you."

Akira ignored him and shoved his plate back under the tap. Can't be wasting water and increasing the water bill because he was too busy talking to Akechi, right? Sojiro'll kill him.

"Kurusu-san."

Tick.

"Ne, Kurusu-kun," the persistent voice nagged.

Tick.

"Kurusu Akira-kun."

Somehow, someway, Akira found Akechi's face exceedingly close to his own again. And even though Akira was faced towards the sink not a moment before, he's once more turned towards his friend.

His enemy, Akira amended in his mind. Not his friend.

Akira's face was cloaked in shadow, his enemy's superior height blocking the overcast light from reaching Akira's face. Akechi was so close that their noses almost touch and they breathe the same breath.

Off to the side, Akira could hear the sound of the tap running relentlessly.

Tick.

Akira pulled away first.

"About what?" he feigned ignorance. He shoved his hands back into the watery mess, ears turning red with the belated realization that he's given an actual reply.

"You know what," Akechi's eyes peered out at him behind half-lids. They bore into Akira with a relentlessness Akira thought was unbefitting of irises with such a warm color.

Akira wanted to go and counter with a gaze just as solid, but in the end he settled for lifting his head up and staring out dispassionately. He tilted it off to the side, almost as if in contemplation, before stating flatly, "Do I now."

It comes out more cheeky than Akira had intended, he's willing to admit. Nonetheless, the feeling of triumph simmers in his gut when out of the corner of his eye, he saw Akechi's features finally lose their stony quality. Something almost akin to smugness also rose when a crease appears at the bridge of his nose ever so slightly.

Akira struggled to contain his smile as he watched the other's impatience make its mark.

Akechi looked at him a bit more before his face smooths over again and he let out a soft sigh. He lifted his apron off his shoulders and handed it to Akira.

"'Kun,' eh?" Akira gave up on hiding his mirth. He's seeing more than just an apron in front of him and readily reaches out to grab it.

"Hmm?"

"You've never addressed me like that before. 'Kurusu-kun,' you said," Akira explained.

"Does that offend you?" Akechi lifted his head away.

"No."

This time, the silence that stretches between them was comfortable. Quietly, almost discreetly so, the hand strikes 12.

"Ah, I missed the last train," Akechi commented. Melodramatic as ever, he let out a remorseful sigh. Akira feels more than a little smug. "I told you so."

"So you did," Akechi went blank-faced and looked away. "But!" He abruptly spins on his heel to face Akira once more and jabs a finger in his face. "Only someone like you would be proud of being right about something as trivial as knowing when the trains stop!"

"Wha…?" Akira was appalled. "I'm not proud of something as trivial as knowing when the trains stop! Such knowledge was common." He recomposes himself.

"Obviously not," Akechi frowned. "As esteemed as I am, there's no way I could have forgotten when my usual train line stops."

Akira sighed, "Which line do you take?"

"Ginza."

"Ginza? Where do you live?" Akira couldn't help asking. He pulled off his own apron and hung it on a hook before leaning back on the counter.

Akechi seemed to hesitate for a second, taken aback by Akira's forwardness, before replying. "Asakusa." He looked a little sheepish.

"Asakusa?!" Akira asked incredulously. "That's an hour away by train!" Akechi didn't respond. "Anyways, the Ginza Line stops at 12. Don't forget it next time."

"Assuming that I forgot it in the first place."

Akira paused and looked right at him. "Could it just be that you're an idiot?"

"Please don't use such distasteful words towards me. I might get offended."

Akira sighed.

"In any case…" Akechi seemed to allow himself a small grimace. "You wouldn't mind if I stayed the night, would you?"

"Eh?"

"This isn't to say that I would want to stay over. It's just that I embarrassingly have nowhere else to go." His friend crossed his arms and looked away.

"No." He deadpanned.

"What?" Akechi put a hand to his mouth and gave a little gasp. A most disappointed look was shot his way. "I can't believe it. You would deny a friend in need?"

"There's a motel just down the block!" He pointed his hand in the general direction.

"Ha?" His facial expression came close to a sneer. "That run-down place could barely be considered liveable. I'm not so desperate that I would stoop so low."

"Really now? I thought you already reached that when we were deciding on who would make the calling card." Akira hid his grin behind his sleeve. "The great detective prince, Akechi Goro, almost falling over himself to get the opportunity to make a card. How cute."

The normally very neat hair of one Akechi Goro became very not neat. He huffed, "That was different." He crossed his arms and looked away again.

"Different how?"

"I just. Never had the chance to do something like that before." He hunched his shoulders.

At that very moment, Akira couldn't hold his laughter in anymore. "That's why?" He laughed and laughed. "Oh…"

"Hey, don't laugh!" Akechi leaned in indignantly. Akira clutched his stomach and heaved for air. "I'm sorry… that's just…"

"What?!"

"That's adorable."

Somehow Akechi's hair became even more ruffled. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out. Akira settled down. "But seriously… you've never done something like this? What about projects and stuff?"

His friend shook his head. "I've always been so busy with work, I've never really been able to do arts and crafts. Maybe I did when I was young, but I can't remember."

"Well, at least you get to do something with Yusuke."

"Anyways…" Akechi recomposed himself and stared at Akira intently. "About the living accommodations…"

"Fine, fine," Akira relented. "Think I have a spare futon somewhere…" He rummaged through the closet.

"And now that we got that out of the way~" A grin stretched across his friend's face. "Shall we get back to a previous topic?"

"I'm not lending you my bed. Or my couch," he evaded.

"I'm not interested in taking your sleeping quarters. I'm interested in talking." Leaning into the counter, Akechi propped his chin up with his hand.

Akira wasn't interested.

"Thank you, but no thank you," he said.

"Keeping it to yourself isn't going to do much good," came the reply.

Akira puffed up his chest and placed a hand over his heart haughtily. "My couch is mine and mine alone. I won't let it be desecrated." He got a sideways glance at that, but after another moment of mutual glaring, he finally, finally, let the topic drop.

"You know…" Akechi took a seat in one of the booths. "I… I'm really grateful to have met you." The sudden change to a sensitive topic threw Akira off guard. His friend sat there, looking down at his fingers. "A month back — September 17th I believe — I bumped into you in Mementos. By some twist of fate, I met you."

"What a coincidence, right?" He laughed. "Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't gone into Mementos that day. You — no, everyone — have been so good to me. You listened to my worries and gave me hope. I…"

"Thank you."

Those words were said with such terrible honesty. The turmoil in Akira's chest quickened and clamped down on his heart.

"That's why… That's why…!" Akechi lifted his head abruptly and their eyes met.

"I can wait."

Strikethrough doesn't exist here, so wherever something is like -example- (not — example — ), then that denotes strikethrough. This was originally written in present tense so if there are any mistakes I apologize.