"What is there to talk about?" Shinji asks. Looking at Akechi's back. Clearly, Akechi doesn't think of him as any threat at all. Because there he sits right in arms reach. And maybe he's right to make that assumption of his harmlessness. Shinji doesn't feel any inclination for something like revenge. Even in this dreadful place there's no home for anger within Shinji's self.
"I've tampered with the cameras near here. This jail's systems weren't that difficult to mess with, especially because of the clearances I get." Akechi explains. Never moving an inch from where he casually sits against the cell's bars. "What they're seeing is a live feed of me, and a loop of you sleeping. Also, I've cut their microphones in your room. So it'll be a decent while before they figure it out. Longer still before the issue's fixed. Point being, this conversation will be as anonymous as it gets."
"So you want me to be honest?"
Akechi elects to ignore the question. "Oh yeah, and I scheduled a prison break in 10 or so minutes from now. It'll happen in the northern wing just a hundred or so cells down. That'll delay them even further."
"You're serious? How?!" Shinji asks, standing up from his bunk with a start, nearly hitting his head.
"I called in something like a favor." Akechi replies. "But that's not important. We're here to converse, so I'd like you to talk. Tell me, do you remember the woman you killed?"
Shinji sighs. "I don't remember killing anyone. If I really did, I wouldn't ever forgive myself. I'd have turned myself in before it ever had to be brought to trial."
"I guess memory loss is possible. After all, that was the first time." Akechi concedes.
"So you're saying I killed her?" Shinji asks, genuinely questioning the fact.
"Yes. You did kill her, Shinji. You beat her with that metal rolling pin. I watched it happen right in front of me all those years ago, and you didn't stop for a second. You covered me in her blood. And don't even try to argue that I might be mistaking things. I'm the detective here. And it's your memory that's faulty, not mine!" Akechi finishes with a huff, his fist clenching at his side.
A silence falls over them both at Akechi's outburst. The clink of metal on metal rings out far away, maybe some sort of idle noise. Down below and to Akechi's right lies a mess hall behind closed doors.
"I know it probably won't matter to you, but, I'm sorry. I can't possibly atone, but I still can't imagine doing something so horrid." Shinji says, looking up at the fading white lighting streaming down from his cell.
Akechi looks down at his hands, still not facing Shinji. "You might be a decent man." Akechi admits. "I'm here for a reason though. My resolve can't be shaken so easily."
Akechi stands and faces Shinji. Reaching out, Akechi presses his palm to Shinji's face, and Shinji closes his eyes.
Akechi's face is coated in streaks of soot and ash. He's nearly unrecognizable from the image portrayed through local television screens as the stories of the ace detective grow in scale. The man still in high school who's been instrumental In finding criminals. The boy commended amongst news outlets as something of an outlier in the modern era. To be crucial in solving both street crime and even these new psychotic breakdown incidents, he's a star in a dying business of deduction.
But that image doesn't exist right now. And Akechi prefers it to be that way.
Completely unrecognizable. Not a shade of that perfect image intact. Even down to the clothes, also doused in that same ash from the fires of hours ago now that engulfed the prison. Akechi throws his head in his hands where he sits in the fast food restaurant he wandered into. His black gloves seem like the origin of all the soot. As if they were made of ash, and he rubbed his hands across his body like an amateur artist might. He draws the attention of children, pointing curiously at the man shrouded in black, who seems to have lost a fight in either a coal mine or an absurdly large chimney. The din of noise from the restaurant is easily drowned by that of his own head. Frankly, he doesn't much care how he appears to anyone who might look. There isn't a person in the world who could convince him to pull it together right now.
Shido didn't even have the decency to do it himself. Instead, it was one of his ever faithful underlings, Haruto. A man that seems destined to stay at the bottom of the ladder in Akechi's eyes. And the lack of professionalism in his delivery helped Akechi's hypothesis.
"Take care of it." Haruto had said. "I'm sorry. It's horrible feeling like an ant, isn't it? But that's how Shido runs things. I can't ever know how much this means to you, but I can imagine, so, I'm sorry. I don't like it, but there's nothing I can do."
"Why apologize?" Akechi mutters to himself in the dreary fast food chain. "Just doing your job. That's all I have to do, so it's no problem for me."
Akechi cleans some of the darkest spots that are absolutely plastered onto his skin. Rubbing carefully with soap and water on paper towels in the bathroom, but clearly not carefully enough, as it gets in his eyes.
That must be why he starts to cry.
The door groans as Akechi pushes it open, perhaps because of the obvious wear and beginnings of rust. Weather is not kind to the creations of man, after all. As if some punishment against the sin of running the original land crafted by some unspoken god, rain slowly corrodes the metal. In all of its eternity, there's a sure fact that nature will eventually override and overcome man's influence down to the smallest atom, even if that takes a trillion years, nature is that attrition.
It's an older building with a cumbersome, rusting handle of metal that's cool to the touch. A slightly musty smell wafers out from the door. The distinctive smell of a home, like an abandoned hospital that's long since run out of antiseptic.
"Akechi?"
"Caught already." Akechi says with a shake of his head. "You really recognized me even when I'm covered in ash?"
"Of course I would. There's more to a person than a face. And besides, we've seen worse days together."
"You've got that right." Akechi says. "How is everyone?"
"Things are going well, thanks to you." Sei says, eyeing the grocery bags Akechi's brought in. "And it seems like you've just made them even better."
"Please don't attribute me to your successes." Akechi says sadly. "I've always been different from you. Not only was I lucky enough to have a parent in my life, but I'm now in a fortunate position in life. Being a detective is a surprisingly lucrative profession, and that's the only reason I can offer all of this." Akechi says, offering the bags of groceries forwards. "I just got lucky."
"Well, maybe." Sei admits. "But, you're still in high school. You know we've all dreamt of 'getting lucky' like you did."
"I wanted to do right by you guys." Akechi says with a wistful smile. "That's all."
"You've been helping us out so much I almost feel bad." Sei replies. "There really isn't anything we can do for you, huh." He realizes as he sets some of the bags down near the creaky fridge door. It must've been white once. Isn't anymore. Electricity is a newer thing here. Thanks in large part to Akechi, some living conditions have improved dramatically at the orphanage.
"Don't worry about it." Akechi replies. "I'm in a perfect position. There isn't much in my life that isn't going right."
"Well yeah. You sure do seem to be doing alright financially. But that's not all there is to life. Well, maybe that's just a way we coped as the unlucky ones. Trying to find any way the grass was greener on our side, even if it meant ignoring any prospects at theirs."
"What are you talking about? We did what we could." Akechi says. "Still are, right?"
"I don't think you're wrong." Sei clarifies. "We never really were dealt the best hand, and we worked hard. But, sometimes I wonder if I should've taken a different path. If I'd done something else with my life, could I become someone successful like you? It's a nice delusion to believe that even forgotten, unwanted children like us could've been significant. That we could've changed the world."
"Sei, you still have many years yet to live. It isn't like you to give up this easily."
"I've been fighting for 16 years, Akechi. We all have." Sei replies. "You know best that isn't giving up easily."
"What are you saying? What happened to you? Don't you want to get revenge?" Akechi asks. "We were wronged. The world decided we were failures from birth. I'd rather die than live up to those expectations. I want to make sure the people in this world never forget my name. I was sure we all shared that same desire."
"I used to. But for how long? How long can I keep using my anger to drive me?" Sei asks. "I'm alive, relatively healthy. I've got ten fingers, ten toes, both legs and arms and eyes too. I'm not in the worst spot."
"It's enough for me to do anything. Anything at all, so long as I achieve my goal. Leaving behind a mountain of nameless bodies would be a small price to pay if it meant I'd get my revenge." Akechi says. "Do you not feel the same way?"
Sei's eyes widen, and then he relaxes and gives Akechi an easy smile. "Sorry to disappoint, but no, not really. I think that's why you've succeeded and we haven't. You're still holding onto that desire to be the best in the world. It was never much of a competition between me and you if you always had that kind of resolve."
"I saw you as a rival, you know." Akechi says suddenly in a more subdued tone. "Not in a dangerous way, but, you were the standard I measured myself against. So, I would've liked if you were always pushing me to be better. It'll be a bit weird knowing I don't have that standard anymore. I thought for sure at the end of all this i'd be looking up to you. That I'd be the one chasing after the heights you reached.
"Again, I hate to disappoint."
"You would've given me a real challenge. I know you better than anyone else. You're my best friend, after all."
"Didn't know the 'ace detective' was so soft." Sei chuckles, his face lighting up. "You're gonna make me blush. But, enough of that. Everyone will be more than happy to see you. So, let's go."
This first building is the biggest. A one story building that's wider than it is long. Still, it shows its age compared to most modern construction, with visible acclamations of cracks, spiders and their accompanying webs, and a few dripping areas in the corners where rainfall has accumulated. Despite this husk of a building, its insides are becoming more impressive. Newly paid for electricity is heavenly, coupled with a freshly minted fridge practically as big as they are, where Akechi and Sei stand, hauling groceries inside the frigid compartments. For the first time in a long time, semi effective coolers won't have to be used.
Among the newly replaced appliances includes a new oven and stove, outdoor barbeque, and even a new shower with properly hot water.
All in all, this area of mostly non-permanent residence is aptly called the slums. Or, as close to that idea as you'd get in Japan. A rundown orphanage in the middle of nothing and nowhere, not far from an aging and discreet red light district of where unspeakable acts occur.
Despite the relative nothingness of the location and the rampant poverty, low middle class adults such as Shinji have tried their best to provide something resembling a normal life for the children. Including, but not limited to, impromptu schooling and education to facilitate their growth. And once they became of age, Akechi would help bring in money for essential purchases any way he could.
As two of the oldest, it's not an exaggeration to say Akechi and Sei were essential to the survival and success of the other children.
"You're an inspiration, you know that, Akechi?" Sei asks as he closes the fridge.
"I guess so."
"I mean it." Sei says. "You've shown us all how we really can do something great and establish ourselves. Even if I don't follow down that road, you've opened it up for us, and helped our quality of life tremendously. And I don't mean-"
"You're back, you loser!" someone interrupts, before barreling into Akechi with a tight hug as he turns. In his detective duties he definitely would have objected to both her words and the hug, but he doesn't have to worry about professionalism right now. Akechi lets his arms hang awkwardly, not quite hugging her back, but she doesn't seem to mind.
"You're crushing me, Miyagi." Akechi chokes out through a smile.
"She's been dying to tell you." Sei says, then quieter, and only to Akechi "you inspired her. All of us, really."
"Akechi!" Miyagi says, her long black hair flowing effortlessly as she shakes in excitement. "I got a job! A real, like super legitimate one! I've been studying real hard ever since you left and I got accepted!"
Akechi smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes, and Miyagi notices.
"You alright? It's good news, aren't ya happy for me? I'm making the big leagues, just like you!"
Akechi shakes his head and his expression changes from an almost blank look to a wide smile. He points at Sei over his shoulder and speaks. "I'm just feeling bad for leaving the oldest behind. I mean, is he supposed to be leading by example?"
Miyagi jumps at the opportunity to slide in on the teasing. "Yeah! You're totally getting outdone by Akechi, Sei!"
"Come on." Sei groans. "Even if he's more successful, I still have a nicer face."
"You're both lame." Miyagi says, making a face like she just ate something intensely sour.
"Will you two help me out a bit?" Akechi asks, interrupting the playful feud. "I'd like to cook something for everyone, and it'll be easier with your help."
"You don't even have to ask." Sei says.
"Me too?" Miyagi asks.
"Yeah, of course you can help, Miyagi." Akechi says.
"Have you been practicing cooking, Akechi?" Sei asks as he washes his hands.
"I have." Akechi replies to Sei's left, waiting to use the sink.
Miyagi, having beaten them to it, washes some vegetables for both soup and salad.
"You're really going all out, huh?" Miyagi says. "What's the special occasion?"
"Well I'm back aren't I?" Akechi says softly. "That's always special."
"Glad you didn't forget about us." Sei says teasingly.
"Never will." Akechi replies.
And it's true. A meal for all of them is no small feat. It's a large group of people, and requires the kind of output you'd expect from a catering service. The thought crossed his mind earlier, but given the need to be on sight, Akechi decided to do it himself. There's something much more intimate and personal about cooking for someone else, rather than just hiring somebody to do it for you. For those reasons, it's a worthy investment. Akechi wants to do this the right way.
Cooking for others, and watching as they enjoy the meal you spent time on with them in mind, that's what making food is all about. Through their happiness you find your own.
"Hey, Akechi. Why don't you teach me how to do this?"
"Maybe next time." Akechi replies.
"You sure you're alright?" She asks, sounding puzzled. "You haven't taken that off yet." Miyagi points at his ash coated jacket. The one formerly brown but now black. At least, until he washes it thoroughly. Even then, looking at it now, it's hard to believe black wasn't its original color.
"If it's here, then I suppose I can." Akechi says, easing it off his shoulders and onto the coathanger. Akechi can't remember the last time he donned anything this simple in public, as underneath the darkened coat is a simple white t-shirt. Surely an unacceptable image for the detective to project in public settings.
"Speaking of that, why'd you decide to come back all of a sudden?" Miyagi asks as she peels a potato's skin with care for both her fingers and the material below. It's a bit old-fashioned to do it with a knife, but old-fashioned is the way they know. "It's good to have you back, it's just surprising, that's all. You're not the easiest to predict."
"It's for work, actually. Sucks, but I won't have a lot of time to be here."
"That's why you're showing out, huh? I don't really buy it." Miyagi replies. "I think I know you."
Akechi scoffs. "Who's the detective now?"
"Not you." Miyagi says, pointing a thumb over her shoulder without turning at his soot-soaked suit hanging limp behind her. "You're after hours, and I doubt there's anything you've got to investigate here. No one to investigate, really."
"Yeah. I'm not here on a case." Akechi admits. "Still, it doesn't look great on me for being so far."
"I mean, I don't blame you for anything, Akechi. Hell, I don't know how I'd stomach looking back if I were in your position. Hard to turn back when you've seen the other side, right?"
"It is. The things that occur in the heart of Tokyo are almost unfathomably different from how they are here. Still, In some specific aspects, I prefer this life to my current one."
"I think I get it. I can't wait to get out of here, but I'm definitely still holding on." Miyagi says. "It sucks not to change, but it's comfortable. So, how's you do it?"
"I had to change violently. There wasn't ever much of a choice for me. I had to. I still have to. There's something I need to do like I need to eat and drink and breathe. There isn't a question or hesitance. If something needs to be sacrificed to get closer to that goal, it's on the cutting board."
"It's one thing to say that, but it's clear you believe it." Miyagi says in disbelief. "If there's nothing you won't cut away, what do you have?"
"I have that resolve." Akechi replies.
"I want to understand that." Miyagi replies. "I'm going to make sure you can't turn away Akechi. I'll show you that you aren't the chosen one. It doesn't matter how long it takes. I'll reach those same heights."
Akechi shakes his head as Sei approaches. Probably having something to ask about the cooking. They really should get back to it, but Akechi has one last thing to say.
"You don't get ahead by trying to reach someone else's standing. Look beyond that, and find your own heights. Otherwise, you'll always be aiming at my feet."
Miyagi smirks, and they move on to cooking. Eventually, on the tail end of their processes, Miyagi excuses herself to prepare something. Sei steps up In her absence to help Akechi get it done.
In the corner of his eye, he spots something through the lone window. Akechi turns and finds she's dressed in clothes almost too good for the modern day, like an aristocrat's. Her brown hair, darker than his, is fluffy and curly, and she fixes Akechi with an intense look through the glass. Even many meters away, their eyes seem to meet for longer than usual.
Akechi looks over his left shoulder dubiously, watching her as she turns and walks away. I don't recognize her from the orphanage, but it's been years. He thinks. Maybe a new arrival. However, she moves to leave through the gates. She isn't of Akechi's concern right now, and she wasn't on the receptionist's sheet. Ultimately, she isn't that important.
Sei flutters from the kitchen to the dining room. Ferrying trays of food back and forth as Akechi shakes himself out of the staring contest with a woman he doesn't know. Upon entering the dining room, he almost runs into Miyagi.
"It isn't much, but… we got you something." Miyagi says, offering a well-wrapped gift in outstretched arms toward Akechi. A careful smile on her face as she waits for him.
She waits. And waits. The silence stretches on agonizingly long. Akechi shifts his weight from foot to foot as he opens his mouth but can't find the words.
"I can't take it." Akechi finally speaks.
"Huh? Why?" Miyagi asks, sounding openly hurt.
"Akechi." Sei prompts, nudging him with an elbow.
Akechi shakes his head, and Sei drags him out of the room and back into the kitchen.
"What's going on?" Sei asks, leaning back against the door with his arms crossed. The rest of the orphanage begins to fill the dining room where Miyagi waits, so she paints a smile on and greets them with enthusiasm.
"An evil man that does good deeds, what do you make of that?" Akechi suddenly blurts out. "What kind of person is he?"
"Akechi, whatever it is, you can tell me. I promise it won't leave this room." Sei says, his eyes narrowing at the rare emotion in Akechi's voice.
But he's too good. If the information has to, it will leave this room.
"I can't tell you. Not this time. Things aren't the same as they were when we were younger."
"Classified?" Sei asks. "Is it related to your work?"
Akechi shakes his head. "I just can't say."
"I'll try to help regardless." Sei insists, gesturing to a nearby chair for Akechi to sit in. Akechi does sit, the coat hanger with his darkened jacket hanging ominously over his shoulders now.
"You really can't. I think my mind's already made up… I don't know. I know the answer, but I don't!" Akechi groans, throwing his head in his hands and tugging at tufts of his hair. "There's something I have to do above all else, but I have to lose something to do so. My life's mission comes with agonizing decisions the likes of which I'm not sure I can make, but I have to. It's all messed up and paradoxical in my head."
"You've always been like that." Sei says fondly as he takes a seat across from Akechi. "Even if I don't have your dogged determination, I still respect it. You're strong where I'm weak."
"I'm going to take your futures, Sei."
Sei looks across at Akechi's mopey face blankly, as if questioning if he heard that right.
Then he stands, his chair leg screeching against the floor as it leaves a mark. Sei throws Akechi across the room, Akechi's chair clattering over on its side. For a second Akechi looks scared, scooting backwards across the floor, but then he regains that perfect composure of his.
"So you were just buttering us up, huh?!" Sei yells. "All that kindness, just to ease us off into the sunset?"
"Yeah. You're right." Akechi replies. "You can hate me all you want."
Sei really steps up and into a kick, whipping Akechi's face around with the force. That'll leave a bruise as a red mark mars his skin.
Sei leans down, practically kneeling and hauls Akechi back up with both hands digging into Akechi's shirt.
"What kinda logic will you have for this, huh?" Sei asks, punching his face right where he kicked earlier. "Can you explain this, genius? Your grand plan to come back and ruin everything? What, will it land you a promotion and some more fame?" Sei's knuckles burn with the force of the punches as he feels something crack and give way in his fist. Still, he continues to rain blows until his arms start to burn, and he gives in for a second. Panting in exertion.
Akechi growls, standing to his full height and wiping blood from his newly-split lip. "I've dedicated my life to this. If you get in the way, I'll kill you. That's how I am. It doesn't matter who you are, Sei. I surpass every expectation you're capable of thinking of." Blood runs in rivulets down his forehead and it mats his mussed-up brown hair. Akechi pays it no mind, as if he doesn't even notice the pain. He reaches behind himself without looking and sweeps his coat over his shoulders.
"Yeah? And we haven't dedicated ours to living here? You have no right to ruin this. How arrogant are you?" Sei asks.
"I'm not trash like you." Akechi says. "I'm not a dog who's fine with eating scraps anymore. I groveled on my knees and begged for food just like you. You scavenged food out of a dumpster just as I've done. All that to merely be permitted a sliver, a fucking shred of the existence we deserve as humans. We are abandoned children without a home and the world outside doesn't even care to acknowledge our existence. And you're fine with being wronged, with being violated like that? You're an animal, Sei. I can't believe you don't have an ounce of pride. If you're truly fine with clinging to this pathetic existence, you deserve to rot as a nobody!"
Sei doesn't have words for the verbal onslaught levied his way. Akechi isn't waiting for conversation though. He kicks Sei straight in the chest with unnatural strength, and Sei flies across the room, thudding into the wall.
Akechi drives a punch right up into Sei's gut, already having closed the distance. The air bursts from Sei's lungs, forced out by the brutal hit. Akechi ducks lower, unrelenting. One. Two. Four. He punches Sei right where he knows it'll hurt, until with the second consecutive shot to the liver, Sei crumbles with a cry, collapsing down to the ground as if shot.
Akechi kicks Sei's head down to the floor, then stomps on it roughly with his shoe. Pressuring Sei's head into the tile flooring as he writhes in pain below. Sei squirms around weakly as he whimpers.
"That's right. This is how our lives really are. As a human, you fundamentally have no value. So, it's really a fitting thing for you to beg and cry at my feet." Akechi says with disdain. "I'm not even trying. You're just that pitiful."
"Maybe I don't have any value." Sei says sputtering spittle beneath Akechi's heel. "But I'm not going to let you do this. Even if I don't have a future, they do. One you have no right to take."
"And for what reason should I believe that?" Akechi asks. "There's no use lying to me. This place is surrounded. Whether I was here or not, If you tried to escape, you'd be shot. Do you have a lottery you're planning on winning? "
"Already won. Got the acceptance letter this week." Sei says.
Akechi almost looks hurt at that, taking a step back and relieving the pressure for a moment, but Sei's still slow to get up. "Who? And where?"
"Try your best." Sei says, finally standing. "I'm not going to talk."
"Doesn't matter. Not important. Don't make me beat you any longer." Akechi says, throwing the lighter at his face. "Just do your goddamn job. You're all worthless."
"What is this for? You think I'll just listen to you-"
Akechi whips metal against Sei's temple, sending him sprawling down to the floor as drops of blood fall from the sensitive area of flesh. He then aims the extended barrel of the pistol at Sei's battered form. The safety's still on, but Sei doesn't have to know that.
"Figure it out, or I'll do it myself. You have five minutes." Akechi says, turning on his heel and not looking back, gun in hand. Leaving Sei to stumble back to his feet, still gathering his bearings as the world spins uneasily. Sei stumbles, nearly falling back to the ground before he catches himself on the table.
"Akechi, fuck you." Sei says, unsure if it was loud enough to hear. Akechi walks out of the orphanage with his shoulders practically at his ears; a ball of tension ready to explode. Sei has more important things to do than chase after useless emotion. As much as his heart pounds with the desire to stop him, he doesn't match up at all in a fight. He's learnt that much the old way. Akechi really is a person he cannot reach. An acidic feeling that he now despises, but it's more than just his life here. To put aside your own needs - that's his definition of responsibility.
Sei pushes himself up from the table and swallows down his frustration. Clutching the side of his head, he pushes the door open to leave the kitchen. There's a jovial mood in the dining room, topped off well by the big cake at the center. The dining room is quite full, and Sei has to painfully squeeze between shoulders before he's reached Miyagi.
Carefully he holds her wrist so as not to hurt her, even though he's in a rush. Miyagi feels the stress radiating off him in waves, a bead of sweat trickling from his brow. Sei's well defined eyebrows furrowing together in concern. He takes her out of the room and into a closet, quickly opening the door to the outside. One of the lesser known and used entrances here was long ago used by the kids as a storage space for old clothes. It just so happens to be close and discreet from where the celebration is underway. Perfect for what Sei needs right now.
"What's happening?" She asks, her voice wavering slightly.
"I don't know." Sei replies, pointedly ignoring the sound of hissing he hears in the backdrop. "You have to leave, though. Don't ask questions. Don't wait for anyone, don't come back. Don't be stupid and don't stop to talk to anyone. Assume you're always being watched. Go overseas early."
"What?"
"Take this," he says, handing her his wallet. Then he hands her his knife. "Only if you absolutely have to, and you can't run anymore." Sei clarifies. Would've been useful against Akechi. He thinks. But there's no point in fixating on what-ifs.
Besides that, he hands her a crumpled map, a well kept midnight black cloak which he drapes over her shoulders snugly, and his cell phone.
"I don't understand!" Miyagi complains, clutching the hem of her pants and looking down at the floor. "Why are you doing this?"
"I'm sorry, Miyagi. Just get out of here, okay? If you care about the people living in these walls, the people you've lived with all these years, you'll run. You will live. Do you understand?" He asks, already ushering her out the door into the midst of fog.
Sei fixes her with one last reassuring smile before shutting the door in a hurry. Leaving Miyagi all alone with a faint sound of hissing emerging from the walls like a whisper of a snake she's never heard before. She can't quite remember the last time she saw a snake. A weird thing to be thinking about as she ducks behind a building, running carefully away from the orphanage.
After a few minutes, breathing heavily, she's out of the fog that surrounds the orphanage. A rustle of clothes alerts her to someone down the empty, ruined road. A police officer, standing out of place in the silence. He raises his gun without question. He didn't even ask her anything, and she's staring down the barrel of a pistol.
It goes off, she flinches as if she's been shot, but she hasn't. Her body doesn't kick back, and there's no new holes through her skin. Looking back to the officer in the distance, she starts to sprint, assuming he missed. But, instead, out of the corner of her eye, she sees an almost cheerful looking man who's choking the officer unconscious from behind with a single arm, the pistol abandoned on the floor. Holding the limp body like a sack of potatoes, Miyagi hopes he isn't dead as the man discards the officer just as carelessly as the gun. He waves to her with a big grin on his face as if seeing her off before a school trip, and then she's out of his line of sight behind another ramshackle building.
"I hope you'll forgive me." Sei says, barely heard over the din of the room. Then, he pushes his hand forwards in a struggle against himself. His hand actually shakes as he brings the lighter forwards to aim at the candle. The trigger feels hard under his index finger, like something forbidden he shouldn't squeeze. A line he shouldn't cross. Remembering those cold eyes, completely unfamiliar to the man who called Sei his 'best friend.' The hissing gets louder and louder, as if an invisible conductor is building it up in Sei's ears, and his alone, as the voices are drowned out but the community doesn't seem to notice how loudly it rings. He knows what that hissing means, and he knows exactly why Akechi wants him to start this fire. His one solace in that Miyagi And so, he presses his thumb against the switch hard enough he wishes it breaks, but it doesn't. Sei isn't strong enough for even that, and the flame bursts from the lighter.
Deafening noise erupts through the street, newly introduced. The force shakes nearby buildings violently. Miyagi lowers to the ground, her ears picking up nothing. It's like the whole world was shaken. Pebbles and dirt rain down on Miyagi, but none of it hurts. It happens until it doesn't, like a lightning bolt, the only residual left being her unhearing ears.
And there's a flame. Almost absurdly large as it towers over the nearby low-rise buildings. With the size and force of it, it's enough for Miyagi's heart to twist. It's a big enough explosion there won't be anything to go back for. She grits her teeth and forces her eyes away from the inferno. Forces herself to listen to Sei's now dying request.
Miyagi sprints for as far as her legs will carry her. A thousand questions sifting through her head, until there's nothing but the ground under her feet. She'll run to the ends of the earth, then think about what happens next.
Back at the orphanage, the crackle of radios confirm his mission complete. Yet another step, another day closer to the pinnacle of his entire life. Even if this particular one feels like a regression.
Akechi doesn't much understand it. He clutches at his chest, it physically burns from within and he winces in pain. The home he once knew, obliterated with memories along with them.
Akechi laughs. Not some sort of maniacal, evil laugh, but one wracked with sobs instead. The utter shock of the moment overtaking him and confusing his body with all the different signals being jammed at once. He tugs the ashen, black gloves from his hands and throws them to the wall soundlessly. A useless effort as he slinks down against the bricks. He's in disbelief. Not only of the extent he'd just gone to propagate his own plans, but of this capability still to feel so raw. It's surprising. After so much consistent murder, he was certain he was used to it.
But not all human lives are created equally.
Haruto startles Akechi by taking his left hand before he can fit the glove onto it. The coarse material of a combat glove meets Akechi's bare palm, and he instinctively tries to retract his arm. It's impossible though, and he gives up on the unconscious act. Even though he doesn't want to be touched or seen by anyone right now, Haruto pulls Akechi closer, and a tranquil calm settles over Akechi slowly in waves.
"I'm sorry. But it's going to be okay. Just leave it all to me, and break."
It's utterly cruel and unfair how losing family for the second time doesn't soften the blow at all. Akechi sobs into Haruto's shoulder until the flames of the orphanage expire in death. It's unfair that he took their lives. Unfair that he feels the audacity to mourn lives taken willingly by his hand. He is nothing if not pathetic.
Akechi doesn't even know this man. He doesn't even feel any particular stirrings of the heart toward Haruto. No. The only thing his heart desires is to fulfill his mission. His life's purpose which can't be denied, and for which he will sacrifice everything to achieve. If the planet itself has to die in order to fulfill that goal, Akechi would be fine with that outcome. Just him and his father. He will do anything to splatter the man's foul blood across the earth, and paint his world into one of the most excruciating suffering.
Even so, pathetic as it is, Akechi clutches onto the presence of another, and for once, allows himself to lose. And those arms hold him back. An embrace of which feels foreign, forgotten from a decade ago.
Alone in that desolate place, that husk of the city, a present burns, destined forever to be untouched. And meters away, the metal of a thick key bubbles and seeps into liquid.