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For two hours, maybe three, Ren watches Akechi from the corner of his eye.
It's like Akechi keeps himself in a little box even when it's just the two of them alone in the cafe, counting on the sound of a late summer storm and Ren's favorite piano playlist to fill the silence. Akechi stifles his yawn before it can escape, and he stretches as if he's afraid to take up too much space, extending his arms down and out in front of him and arching his back like a cat, rubbing his bleary eyes as he looks down at his work again. It's— sort of cute.
Ren waits an appropriate amount of time before he meanders over to the counter to stand in front of Akechi. "Need a refill?"
If Akechi has caught onto Ren pretending not to sneak glances all night, he at least has the good grace to pretend, too, that he never noticed anything. He just blinks, seeming to return to himself a little. "No, thank you. I should be going soon, anyway; I don't want to keep you past closing."
Ren leans his hip against the counter and shrugs casually. "It's no problem. I live here, so it's not like I have somewhere else to be."
"I guess that's true," Akechi chuckles, strangely amused, resting his chin in his hand. "You're lucky you don't have to go out in that storm to get home."
A strong wind rattles the window, just to drive home his point.
He sighs. "I should get going, though. No use prolonging the inevitable."
He doesn't make a move to pack up and leave. Distractedly, Ren stares at the pages and pages of notes spread out over the counter and wonders what the inevitable entails— of course, Akechi probably just meant getting drenched on his way home, but.
Well, Ren has been getting distracted a lot lately.
He shifts his weight back and exhales. "You should stay and wait it out a little, see if the rain will let up. I'll make you some tea."
"Are you sure? You close in—" Akechi checks the clock— "less than five minutes. I wouldn't want to impose."
"I told you, I don't mind. I wouldn't want to be out there either, if I were you." Ren slides out from behind the counter and goes to flip the sign on the door.
"Oh. I appreciate it, then."
As Ren opens the door and leans out, a rush of damp air hits him like a cleansing breath, warm and ozone-laden and utterly perfect. The rain hammers on the roofs and the pavement, drips in steady streams from the edges of the awning, rushes in overwhelmed storm drains down the street— it feels like he's breathing underwater, like he could swim across the street to the bathhouse or into the blue-gray expanse of the sky. It's a downpour to get drenched in with someone else, to run for cover together and then give in and laugh hopelessly, coffee and homework and case files all forgotten.
He ducks back into the shelter of the cafe in time to catch Akechi squinting at the chalkboard menu overhead with a determined expression, like he'd interrogate it if it would answer. Faintly amused, Ren slides into the kitchen and takes his stuff out of a back cabinet.
As he waits for the water to boil, he watches Akechi organize his papers into stacks and put them in his briefcase without his usual painstaking care. He looks like he's going through the motions, like his mind is somewhere else altogether.
The water boils far too quickly. Ren tosses the leaves into the teapot and pours the water in, and carries the whole set to the counter. He tries to focus on finding clean mugs for them as they wait the requisite two-ish minutes for the tea to steep, but all he can feel are Akechi's eyes like the midsummer sun on his back, relentless even when he turns and walks around the counter to sit down next to him.
Ren keeps his cool as he pours steaming hot tea into their mismatching mugs, pretending he isn't being openly, recklessly stared at. Thank god he's had a lot of practice with that over the past few months— although, it's very different when it's Akechi doing the staring, less of a bad caged-zoo-animal nervousness and more of a good oh-god-oh-fuck nervousness. An addicting nervousness, which was weird until he figured out belatedly like a total idiot that that's not what it was at all.
"Be careful, it's hot." Their fingers brush as he hands Akechi his tea.
When Akechi wraps his hands around the mug and takes a sip, Ren watches the corner of his lip curl up in a knowing smile.
"A week ago, at the jazz club," Akechi says, and Ren has never felt so pinned down by eyes that looked so warm— "you remembered what I said."
"Of course I did." It's a given, at this point.
Akechi tilts his head, and Ren swears he must have calculated the exact way his hair would fall across his cheekbones and the precise angle at which the lights in here would hit his eyes to make them gleam like that. "Leblanc doesn't serve this kind of tea," he says smugly.
Of course they don't. Leblanc only has a few basic tea options to appease customers; there's no chance Sojiro would spend money on a fancy loose-leaf blend from a local tea shop just to impress anyone who might happen to reveal that they're into that kind of thing. Only Ren is stupid enough to do something like that.
"It's got nothing to do with Leblanc," Ren says. "Just think of it as a gift, from me to you."
"You really are full of surprises. Thank you, I'm touched."
For a long moment, neither of them say anything, content to listen to the sound of the rain outside. Akechi wraps both hands around his mug and takes another long sip, shoulders relaxing and eyes slipping shut. When he opens them again, the searing weight of his gaze eases into a subdued glow, embers burning low in equal parts exhaustion and satisfaction.
There is nothing Ren covets more than that rare warmth. He basks in it, allows himself a tiny, hopeful smile in return, gambles his heart on the chance that this little piece of Akechi is more real than the rest of him. If being stared at before felt like a drug, then this is betting everything he has at the roulette wheel, and the house always wins in the end.
Akechi breaks eye contact and looks back over at his half-organized papers. A few sheets are still scattered on the counter, the handwritten ink on them perfect and neat. If they had sat in a booth together this would be the moment where Ren would shift just an inch closer, but as it is, there's an odd gulf of space between their chairs, so neither of them moves or says anything.
Ren doesn't mind the silence— it's companionable, not awkward, and it's even more gratifying that Akechi is comfortable enough around him to just let it be, but sometimes he wonders if the things they've said are eclipsed in sheer magnitude by the things they've left to longing glances, the briefest of touches, the meaningful smiles when they're alone together. The plausible excuses for their lives to overlap at the train station, in the square, at the very cafe where Ren resides, where he pours Akechi a cup of his favorite tea and only asks that he stay a little longer in return.
"What are you thinking about?"
Ren jolts out of his reverie. Akechi rests his chin in his hand, a smug look on his face as if he caught Ren doing something much more incriminating than just staring, as if daring him to admit to a reason, to put this thing into words. Once it's out in the air between them, there's no taking it back— they both know this. And yet, or perhaps because of it, Ren sees the guardedness in Akechi's eyes surface again to keep him at arm's length.
Ren looks away. "Nothing important," he says.
Maybe it's his imagination, or maybe Akechi really is a little relieved at that. "Seems rather troubling, for nothing," he says lightly.
"You really wanna know?"
Akechi pauses, sets down his mug. "I can't deny that I'm curious, but I don't want to pressure you to say."
Always with these games, the one-way street disguised as a crossroads. "You already are," Ren snorts.
Akechi's smile turns sardonic. "Oh, should I apologize?"
Ren files it away as evidence for Akechi's hidden mean streak— the mild disdain in his eyes, his sharp tongue that cuts through Ren and makes his heart beat faster— all these hints of what's beneath the mask. He searches and searches, but there still aren't enough pieces to form a coherent picture. "Nah, just make sure you come back tomorrow," he says, without really thinking about it.
"Maybe, if I have the time." Akechi bites his lip and glances down into his empty cup. "And if I feel like it."
"Wow, am I not a priority, then?" Ren teases.
"Do you really want to know?"
He stops short. Akechi looks back at him, his poker face impenetrable once more. Of course Ren wants to know, but... it's probably not what he wants to hear. There's no way he can be a priority to Akechi— maybe as Joker he could be, but not as Ren, and not in that way— and he can't put his pursuit of Akechi above his team or his goals, either. They're staring at each other across a chasm born of their circumstances, edging towards the precipice to be closer, reaching out, never quite reaching.
"...Let's keep that a mystery for now," he decides.
Akechi sighs and turns away. "Shame, I was hoping to see your reaction."
"What, to being at the very bottom of the list?" Ren scoffs.
Slowly, Akechi takes a breath and starts putting away the last of his papers methodically. "I wouldn't say that," he murmurs.
Ren cracks a hesitant half-smile. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
The briefcase clicks shut, and Akechi stands up and stretches— arms up over his head this time, the hem of his shirt riding up. Ren doesn't stare— okay fine, he stares a little.
"Unfortunately, I have to go. Thank you for the tea, Ren," Akechi says quietly, pushing his chair in. "I appreciate you letting me stay late."
"You're welcome." Anything to keep seeing you.
They walk to the door together. For an odd moment, Akechi hesitates, shifting from one foot to the other. "I'll see you around, then."
"Yeah. Goodnight, Akechi."
His eyes flick down to Ren's mouth and then back up. "Goodnight."
He disappears out the door. Ren presses his fingers to his lips and watches him go, his figure quickly fading into the pouring rain until it vanishes altogether without a trace.
The storm subsides by the next evening. Remnants of its clouds billow in its wake, lit up white and gold by the sunset. Ren steps out of Leblanc and watches them drift through the slice of pale sky between the buildings, enamored by the sight. Everything gleams in the aftermath of the rain, winking under the slanted rays of sunlight, warm and revitalized.
He keeps staring up as he walks, adjusts his bag on his shoulder, takes in big lungfuls of fresh, clear air like there's a limited supply, turns the corner—
And he collides with someone. White shirt, striped tie, cute startled yelp— it's Akechi, outlined in gold by the setting sun. His hands are empty this time.
"Oh, Ren." Akechi chuckles and opens his mouth like he's about to follow it up with funny seeing you here like he sometimes does, but he just sort of pauses unexpectedly. "...Sorry about that. I guess we were both in a hurry."
Ren shrugs. "Nah, it's my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going."
For some reason, Akechi looks a little disappointed. He makes an aborted gesture like he's unsure what to do with his hand, and drops it back to his side. "Are you... heading out for the evening, then?"
Then it hits Ren with surprising clarity- his request the day before, the absence of Akechi's briefcase— but he has a better idea than dropping his plans to go back to Leblanc. He hefts his bag and grins, taking Akechi's hand. "Yup. Come on, let's go."
He's rewarded with another delightful Akechi noise and surprisingly little resistance. "Wait, hold on, where are we going?"
"To have some fun." Ren looks back and hopes the waning light is low enough to hide the warmth he feels creeping over his face. Akechi's hand is cool to the touch and his fingers are surprisingly calloused, but the contact still feels gentle— sacred in its innocence, at least for now.
Akechi doesn't object any further, just lets himself be pulled along like a cloud in the wind.
Ren lets go when they get to the station platform. Grabbing Akechi's hand to drag him someplace is one thing, but keeping it when they're just standing still and waiting would be... holding hands, which is another thing entirely. Crossing a line, taking a plunge, making a grave misstep.
Is what he's doing now any better? Maybe not, but at least it's easier to pretend that all this flirting is harmless, that he won't regret whatever comes of it.
They take the train to Odaiba Seaside Park, emerging from the station and out onto a breathtaking view of the bay. The dusky blue sky feels bigger than ever here, an open expanse streaked with clouds that Ren can almost reach out and touch. The city glimmers in the twilight and its reflections dance in the water, glowing brighter as the day ebbs. A feeling much like relief sweeps through Ren, though he can't quite explain it— it's as if he's let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, taking in this scene with Akechi standing here next to him.
"I have to admit— ever since I started coming out in the evenings to see you, I've gotten to witness many more beautiful sights than I otherwise would've," Akechi remarks. "It's... nice."
Ren looks at Akechi. Akechi looks out at the water, oddly expressionless.
"Do you not go out, usually?" Ren asks, at a loss for anything else to say.
"Not much," Akechi sighs and leans his elbows on the railing. "You know me, I'm just too busy most days. Occasionally, I'll be out for business reasons, which is..." A shadow flits over his face. "Well, I'd much rather just be here with you."
His face refuses to give anything else away, carefully impassive as he stares out at everything but Ren, seeming to see none of it at all as his gaze jumps from the bridge to the skyline to the pavement.
"Well, thanks for making time for me," Ren says.
Finally, Akechi turns to look at him, a faint smirk on his lips. "You know, it never feels like making time when it comes to you. Strange, isn't it?"
A breeze ruffles them, warm and alive with the last vestiges of summer. Behind Akechi, the final rays of sunlight slip beneath the horizon and the sky starts to fade, and suddenly everything softens a little and blurs at the edges.
"No, I get it." Ren says, shaking his head. "It's not strange at all."
Akechi laughs a little, self-deprecating and dark. "I should've known you'd understand. Because it's you."
His bitter smile is almost invisible, subsumed by the dusk, there and gone again in an instant, but there's no mistaking the regret that mirrors the same pain deep in Ren's heart— because it's you, the irony of it pulling them together and driving them apart, the only explanation he needs to know that they're one and the same.
In a sense, he's been feeling this strange preemptive loss ever since the day they met— but now, it feels oddly like giving up before giving it a chance and it doesn't sit right with him, no matter how much he tries to convince himself that he has no choice— because it's him, and because it's Akechi.
They stroll down a boardwalk towards the shore. Small pools of light spill from the lamps that illuminate the path, leaving ample swathes of shadow in between that become denser with each passing minute as the night approaches. Ren takes advantage of the cover to try to get a gauge on what Akechi thinks, how he feels, anything. They've only ever seen each other in the daytime or in the safety of a well-lit room or street after nightfall; it feels strangely intimate to walk together on this boundary between night and day, like beginning to cross the lines of their delicate balancing act. Maybe Ren is in denial, still— pretending not to look when they're in the light, falling predictably back into obsession in the dark.
"Is there something on my face?" Akechi meets Ren's furtive glance with his own amusement.
"Uh—" Ren blanks, startled. "No, nothing."
"Not finding what you were looking for?" Akechi's voice attains an uncharacteristically sharp edge and he stops suddenly, his face cast half in shadow by a light behind him and half in the glow of another ahead— but as Ren stops next to him, he finds it more reassuring than unsettling, like a tiny piece falling into place after far too long.
"I don't know," Ren says truthfully. "What do you think I was looking for?"
For a moment, Akechi just studies him without saying anything, letting the low roar of the city fill the silence between them. The world behind him is the warmest blue Ren's ever seen, as inexplicable and beautiful and contradictory and ephemerally distant as the boy standing within it.
Evidently, Akechi doesn't see what he wants either— he looks away, dissatisfied. "You're searching for proof," he says, and continues walking ahead without waiting for Ren to catch up. "Some indication that your choices meant something, and all the time you spent won't amount to nothing in the end."
He gives the odd impression that he's talking to himself for a moment, drifting forward with no one beside him. Even when Ren catches up, he turns his head away to look out at the water— the impenetrably dark surface reflects the glint of the lights around them but reveals nothing of what lies underneath.
"You want to know that the common ground you find won't crumble beneath your feet," Akechi continues quietly, the familiarity of his cadence washing over them like the sound of waves, "and you want honesty. Maybe not now, but eventually, because you're not the sort of person who thrives on deceit. You want to be seen for who you are, not who others want you to be."
They walk across a short stretch of pavement and onto the beach. In the distance, the silhouettes of a gathering crowd move about in the crepuscular light, as if waiting for something to happen. Tiny sparks dance among the figures, and the unmistakable smell of smoke carries on the sea breeze.
"In my opinion, you're looking in the wrong place," Akechi says dryly, turning back to fix his eyes on Ren. "I'd advise you to stop wasting your time, but..."
"But you want the same thing, too," Ren concludes, and watches as Akechi's face goes through a myriad of emotions— surprise, indignation, a crushing rendition of frustration that Ren feels down to his bones.
"Ren, the difference is that I know I—"
A burst of light explodes in the sky above them— close enough that the boom follows barely a split second later. The sparks trail over the sky and fizzle out before they hit the water, and then after a pause another firework goes off, and another.
"...I didn't know there was a fireworks show today," Akechi says, as the explosions illuminate his puzzled expression in a rainbow of colors.
"There isn't." A grin creeps onto Ren's face, his excitement from earlier returning to him, and he feels himself growing lighter again as his gaze flits between Akechi and the sky.
"What do you mean, there isn't?"
"You'll see. Come on, let's go." Ren grabs Akechi by the hand despite his protests and navigates them through the crowd, wreathed in the warm laughter of strangers and the smoke from sparklers glowing like nebulae in the night sky— for just this moment, this one evening, Ren is as indestructible as summer itself, hand in hand with the person he wants most in the whole world.
Another explosion blooms overhead as they arrive at the edge of the water. Akechi cranes his neck to look up at it, and then tilts his head towards Ren questioningly. "Are those..."
"Legal? I highly doubt it," Ren snorts. He sets his bag down and unzips it, pulling out a bundle of fireworks— long, thin sticks wrapped in colorful paper with words printed on them in English. "These probably aren't, either."
Akechi side-eyes him doubtfully. "You do realize what you're doing?"
Ren shrugs and separates a firework from the pack, tossing the rest of them back in the bag. "Yeah. It's not like it's a big deal, we're not the only ones."
"Is engaging in illegal activities how you entertain yourself these days?" Akechi muses. "What would Sakura-san think? You're already on thin ice, as it is."
"Well, he's not here right now. What he doesn't know won't hurt him." Plus, he has other activities that are way more illegal, but Akechi doesn't need to know that.
"Need I remind you that I work directly with the police as part of my job?"
Ren fishes his cheap convenience store lighter out of his bag and holds it up, staring Akechi right in the eye. "I'm gonna have a good time. If you wanna be boring and sit off to the side because you're scared, be my guest."
Akechi sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes but all the apprehension on his face melts away, replaced by a provocative smirk that Ren has definitely never seen before, alluringly sharp at the corners. "Alright, if that's how you want to play it," he says lightly, holding out his hand.
Ren gives him the firework, trying to ignore the kickflip his heart does in his chest. If this is all it took to get that smirk out of Akechi, he wonders how far he could push, how deep he could dive into the black waters that still lurk beneath the shimmering surface. "Here, hold it like this," he says, positioning Akechi's hands to point the end of the firework out towards the bay. "Always aim it away from yourself, and watch out for the sparks. Ready?"
"Yeah, yeah. Just do it," Akechi says impatiently, so Ren doesn't waste any more time.
It ignites smoothly on the first try— the end hisses and sparks and then a bolt of light rips from it and arcs high into the air, a colorful tail trailing behind it like a comet before it fizzles out and vanishes just after its peak, in time with a huge explosion that dazzles the sky. Akechi laughs, bright and wild, and Ren can't resist looking over at him as another bolt shoots from his hands like magic.
It's a mistake— immediately and unquestionably so. The sparks cast a deep red glow in Akechi's eyes that's utterly enamoring, just like his reckless grin and throaty laughter, like the way he stabs the spent firework into the wet sand and spins around to demand another one. Ren obliges, head spinning as he leans closer than necessary and flicks the lighter once, twice, three times to get it to work, unable to think, wishing he could stop thinking about why Akechi has always hidden this side of himself until now. It's not like Ren's never thought about it, but it's so warm and they're so close and Akechi looks so goddamn happy just to be here lighting illegal fireworks with him that he just wants to forget about it all for a second. Screw whatever they said earlier about proof, or choices— all that exists is this liminal blue hour, these simultaneous realizations of I'm in love, aren't I and oh my god I am so fucking screwed like two speeding trains in a head-on collision.
He is so, so doomed.
Akechi dunks his firework in the water after it's done and then stands back up, grinning ear to ear. "Your turn to do one now. Here, give me the lighter."
Ren places the lighter in his outstretched hand— carefully, so that his fingers gently touch Akechi's palm.
Firework in hand, he feels Akechi gravitate towards him and stand entirely too close just to light it, warm breath fanning across his cheek and arms brushing his. The lighter refuses to spark once, twice, three times. "Stupid flimsy piece of shit," he hears Akechi mutter in his ear over the din around them, sending a shiver down his spine.
"It was on sale," Ren says dumbly, trying not to think about how if he turns his head just a little to the left he could kiss Akechi right then and there. He wants to. He shouldn't.
It's dangerous in more ways than one— the lighter finally sparks a flame and Akechi steps back, robbing Ren of his warmth even in the balmy air. "I didn't know you were so cheap when it came to dates," Akechi says, his voice low and teasing. "Luckily for you, that suits me just fine."
Ren whips his head around. "Hey, you have no idea how much I—"
A ball of light shoots into the air and he almost drops the firework— as it is, he yelps embarrassingly and Akechi bursts out laughing again, and Ren can't help but laugh, too. He feels like his heart is going to fly up into the sky and burst and all the little pieces of him will fall down and burn up in the atmosphere before they can touch the earth, becoming part of this night forever.
They light firework after firework until Ren reaches into his bag and finds nothing but the packaging and a mild pang of disappointment. "We're out," he says. "I knew I should've bought a few more."
"You should've. Oh, don't give me that sad look," Akechi adds when he turns around, "the evening's not over. Let's go take a walk, shall we?"
"A walk sounds nice." Maybe they could even hold hands, or maybe- "If we find the people with the big fireworks, do you think they'll let us shoot one?"
"I doubt it. They must have run out as well, judging by how we haven't seen one in a few minutes. I believe they were over in that direction, which-" Akechi suddenly cuts himself off and leans in close, his expression tense. "Ren," he says in a harsh whisper, "look behind you."
Ren, disoriented and trying not to combust, turns his head and looks. Farther down the shoreline, small groups of people are hastily packing up and leaving, and the sparklers have been drowned out by harsh, searching flashlight beams.
"We can't stick around," Akechi hisses, grabbing the dead fireworks out of the sand and tossing them into the bag.
"Yeah. Yeah, let's get outta here." Thankfully, Ren's brain reboots, and he picks up his bag and scans their surroundings for an escape route. For the third time that night, he takes Akechi's hand and leads them forward, keeping his head down and blending in with a couple of families trying to leave.
"What did I tell you?" Akechi mutters.
"Hey, you had fun," Ren whispers back. He glances at the path up ahead— there are two patrol cars parked on the road nearby, but no one in front of them is being stopped. He weighs the risk, trying to search for another exit, but they all involve circling back onto the beach and getting past those flashlight beams that his thief's instinct really doesn't like. There's no room to even think about the possibility of getting caught, and judging by the determined lines of Akechi's face, he's in the same position.
"You have a twisted concept of fun if getting arrested was on your agenda," Akechi snipes at him.
"Don't worry about it," Ren says, as placatingly as possible. "We'll get out of this and it'll be fine." Not to mention he's pulled off escapes far riskier than this several times, so his confidence is totally warranted. Not that Akechi needs to know that, either.
"Well, it doesn't look like they're searching bags," Akechi says, craning his neck to see over the other people. "We should still empty ours just to be safe."
"Won't they find the fireworks and look for fingerprints?"
He rolls his eyes. "What is this, a murder case? Do you really think the police have that much time on their hands?"
Maybe. "But leaving behind any sort of evidence is bad, isn't it?"
"Fine," Akechi grumbles, "We'll do it your way."
"It'll be alright," Ren says reassuringly, squeezing his hand as they walk. "We're partners in crime now. No one'll stand in our way."
"I seriously doubt it," Akechi scoffs, but— he looks a little pleased, anyway.
As they make it back up to the street, something prickles at the back of Ren's neck, like he's being watched. He looks over his shoulder, but all that's behind them is the rapidly emptying beach with its roving flashlight beams. Slightly unsettled, he turns back around— this area is flooded with people, making it easier to stay hidden, and he tries to breathe a little deeper to dispel the feeling. Slowly, they weave their way through the crowd towards the train station, holding on tight to each other's hands.
Half a block later, the prickling grows stronger, so he risks another glance behind them. His heart kicks up a notch— there's a conspicuous uniformed figure holding a flashlight, staring directly at them between the heads of the crowd.
He pulls Akechi closer to him. "Don't look, but we're being followed."
"Shit, now what?" Akechi says without so much as turning his head. "Think we can lose him in the station?"
"No, going inside is a bad idea." Ren exhales, trying to get his pounding heart and his racing mind to work in tandem— come on, think. "How well do you know this area?"
"Not well. I told you, I don't spend much time in places like these."
"Okay, okay. Um." The last time Ren was here was in July with Ryuji and Yusuke and Morgana; it's been a while and the area looks almost completely different at night, but with what he does know— "I think I have a plan. Do you trust me?"
Akechi hesitates.
"Do you trust me?" Ren repeats, more insistently.
"Fine, yes, I do," Akechi says tersely. "What are we doing?"
"You see that street up ahead, the one right before the station? We're gonna turn the corner, and as soon as we do, we'll start running. Just hold onto my hand and I'll lead us."
"Wouldn't it be better to split up?"
Ren glances over at him. "Do you want to split up?"
The street corner looms just a few paces away. Akechi's grip tightens on Ren's hand. "...Only as a last resort."
"Good, then let's go."
Ren takes off like a shot the second they reach they reach the corner, Akechi shadowing his every move as they race down the street, dodging pedestrians and bikes and street lamps. They hear an angry yell from behind, and Ren can feel the stares of onlookers turn towards them.
"The next alley, on the right," he pants.
"Got it," Akechi says immediately.
They skid into the narrow alleyway together. Dirty stormwater splashes up around their feet as they weave between obstacles, barely distinguishable in the dark. Above the noise they can hear loud swearing and heavier footsteps approaching— and then suddenly a bright light fills the alley, stripping away their cover and pinning them down like prey.
"Ren," Akechi says through clenched teeth, pulling at his hand, "stop."
And Ren, heart in his throat, trusts him and stops.
The footsteps grow louder, the light blindingly bright. In front of them, their shadows stretch and warp down the length of the alleyway.
"Akechi—"
"Five more seconds."
"Stay right where you are," the cop yells. "Don't move a—"
Akechi lets go of Ren's hand and kicks a garbage bin with enough force to send it crashing into the unsuspecting man. He goes down with a strangled cry and the flashlight beam drops and skitters away, shining uselessly against a wall. As Ren stares, Akechi grabs his hand once more and yanks him forward.
An unintelligible yet furious racket issues from the heap of garbage, and then the sound of plastic scraping against concrete.
"Get fucked!" Akechi crows, his voice echoing off the walls over their footsteps.
"Oh my god," Ren wheezes with laughter even though he's already out of breath, "you just— you really—"
"Shut up," Akechi cuts in, but he's laughing, too.
They turn another series of corners in the alleys, going on Ren's sense of direction until they pop out onto a larger street surrounded by construction— not nearly as crowded as the one by the station, but with enough passersby that they could blend in. Winded, they duck behind a pile of equipment and into a tiny nook between two buildings and listen intently, but there are no more pursuant footsteps, just the sound of their breath and the murmur of normal pedestrians.
"I think we lost him," Ren half-whispers in the dark, trying to calm his racing heartbeat.
Leaning against the wall across from him in the narrow space, only half an arm's length away, Akechi gives him an exasperated look that's just barely visible in the tiny strips of light filtering in from the lamps on the street.
"What? We got away." Ren feels a smile tugging at his lips, still hopped up on the thrill of escape.
With a huff, Akechi stands up straight. "You," he begins with the most dramatically accusatory tone Ren has ever heard, "are terrible. The worst influence anyone could possibly have."
"Who, me?" Ren says innocently.
"Within the past— hour? Two hours? You have not only involved me in your crimes, but you got us caught and we had to run from the police— hey, stop laughing," Akechi demands, grabbing Ren's arms to try to pull his hands away from his face, "I can tell you're laughing! You're not—"
"Okay, okay!" Ren holds up his hands in mock surrender, unable to hold back his laughter. "But it was a new experience, right? I just— I wanted to have—"
"I still can't believe I went along with it." Akechi grins back at him, eyes gleaming.
"It was because of me, wasn't it?"
"Yes." He bites his lip. "Because it was you."
"Well, I'm a very convincing person," Ren smirks with brazen confidence even though his heart thuds painfully in his chest— the chase can't hold a candle to what Akechi's undivided attention feels like. Nothing ever could.
"I wonder if you even know the extent of your power." Akechi's hands slide from Ren's arms to his shoulders and suddenly he's right there and he's so close he's practically pressing Ren against the wall. "You're so— you fill my head with the worst ideas, you know that?"
"Yeah?" Ren feels the bottom of his stomach drop out like he's stepping over the edge of his precipice, poised to fall. "Like what?"
He closes his eyes before he can see whether Akechi does the same.
"Like this." And finally, finally, Akechi leans in and kisses him.
There's no sound when the explosion happens, just a brilliant column of flame erupting from the capsized ship into the night sky. Ren watches from a world away on the lifeboat— the billowing smoke, the chunks of debris, the chaotic light refracting off the waves— all of it a mocking imitation of that night.
Then the shock wave hits him, and he doesn't feel a thing.