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coffeeviolinist · 2 days

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Rei is late for the first time since he's started working at Poirot.

Neither terrorism attacks nor hostage crises have affected his being on time. Not even a runaway horse managed to keep him.

But he spends one night with Akai Shuichi, and his perfect record is ruined. Asshole.

Despite his calling ahead, Azusa gives him a worried look. He stops briefly to give her a mock-embarrassed apology, turning up the charm. Promises he won't be late again. Then he's off to the storage room.

He needs to fetch his ingredients and get to baking.

Rei's going to find Akai and strangle him, just as soon as his shift is over.

Roughly 12 hours earlier.

There's a gun aimed right between his eyes.

That in itself is nothing unusual. The situation could be worse, really.

After all, his own gun is pointed right back at Akai Shuuichi's annoyingly smug face. At this distance, he'll be able to read his movement, react in time. He'd rather talk, but if the sniper fires, Rei will drag him into hell too.

Blood for blood. Mutually assured destruction.

(His excitement is slightly dampened by the fact he's rather certain Akai won't kill him.)

"Caught you." Rei can't help the satisfaction slipping into his voice.

Finally. After three years, their game of cat and mouse is over. He'll have his answers.

The most pressing of which-

"Where's Scotch?"

The words cut into the silence, sharpened by fear. His best friend might still be dead, after all. (If he isn't, why hasn't he contacted Rei?)

It's not like he has much to go on to suspect he's alive, besides the fact that Akai himself came back from the dead. Rei can only hope he brought Hiro along.

Before Akai answers, there's a click. The world becomes dizzyingly bright, expanding past the muzzles of their guns.

Rei blinks the disorientation away. Spots silhouettes from the corner of his eyes. He hasn't met them before, but he's familiar, of course, with the owners of this house. How long have the Kudos been watching them?

While he's busy processing that revelation, Akai holsters his gun. Part of Rei hates how nonchalant Akai is about all of this, exposing himself so easily. Like Rei isn't a threat, won't put a bullet in his head because of a couple of witnesses. (Hates that he's probably right.)

"I propose a trade. For old time's sake."

(The words leave a bitter taste with Rei. They haven't exchanged anything, not goods, not words, not warmth, in years.)

Akai snaps open a cheap flip phone - likely a burner. His thumb hovers over the call button. The fingers of his other hand, long and dextrous, wrap around the barrel of Rei's P7M8, tugging gently, but insistently.

Rei considers his options. He holds no illusions - without his gun, he won't be able to dispatch Akai. But he's more than capable of holding his own for long enough to escape, if need be.

(He could just fire, right now. It wouldn't have to be lethal. Could take the phone by force. But chances are, whatever information Akai has, he'll be much less willing to share it with a bullet wound.)

Rei looks up at Akai, meets his green, green eyes. The part of him that shows genuine emotions, some days. (Not that Rei is one to talk.)

Finds Akai looking...tired. He wears a small smile, but it's worn around the edges. There's no open mockery, no quiet amusement. It's just the two of them, and an offer.

Rei lets go of the gun. He hopes he won't be needing it, tonight.

Akai helps him up, his hand warm and steady. As soon as he's upright, Rei lets go - he can walk perfectly fine by himself, thank you very much.

The FBI agent shows him to the living room, tells Rei to make himself a home. After all, the Kudos have promised to give him some privacy, for his chat.

For a moment, the sniper lingers, gaze caught by the phone. Then Akai casts his eyes down, and leaves Rei alone.

Silence, if not for the crackle of the damned fireplace, fills the room. Rei hesitates for a moment. Then he presses 'call' for the only number in the directory.

The phone crackles with static, beeps as it establishes connection, then-

"Hi, Zero."

The world stops moving. Relief floods his system, sapping the tension from his muscles. He leans against the soft backrest, breathing freely for the first time in a long while.

Their talk is short. Rei asks some questions to establish it's truly Hiro, not an imposter, though that would make a very poor basis for the negotiation the Kudos have planned.

Hiro tersely explains some things, although he isn't allowed to give away much. He's in the FBI's witness protection program. That they're talking at all is a massive bending of the rules, authorized only because of Akai's insistence. He claimed it was of critical importance to their mission.

It certainly is, to Rei.

The next hours are a blur.

The sofa dips when Akai sits down at his side, the Kudos already having taken their seats on the other side of the small coffee table. (He wishes Akai would sit farther away. That he be less reasonable in his assumptions and demeanour.)

It's somewhat surreal to think that celebrity actress Kudo Yukiko of all people gives him a steaming cup of chamomile lavender honey tea. Good thing working with Vermouth has knocked most of the starstruck behaviour out of him; his younger self would have made a fool of himself.

He can't afford that. After all, they are seeking him out in an official capacity, requesting PSB senior agent Furuya Rei's cooperation.

It certainly is strange for them to reach out through him, considering his known enmity of Akai. But he's a professional - he might be reluctant to work with the man, but it's not his decision to make. He'll relay the offer, unless it's utter garbage.

So he pays attention while they share what they can of their plan to take down the organisation. Listens to their pledge for equal contribution, and their promise of crediting the PSB with a successful operation; an obvious play intended to soothe the wounded pride of the Japanese, after years of illegal activity. But it's the least they can do.

If one were to ask Rei, the offer is certainly worth considering. The PSB has been working the case for five years now, and while they have gathered intel, and managed to place Bourbon as a vital asset, they're barely closer to shutting the organization down than when they started. It's sprawling, interconnected with various businesses, and, worst of all, active internationally. If they don't cut off all its heads at the same time, odds are the members will simply flee to a different branch. Maybe lie low for a bit, and then go about their business with renewed vigour.

It seems like an international cooperation might just be necessary to achieve this task. So he'll be their messenger; it's above his pay grade to decide whether to take them up on the offer or not.

Though privately, he hopes his superiors agree; every day they lose ground to the organization. By this point, Rei doesn't really care anymore whose plan it is that finally does the organization in, as long as it gets done. (And as long as he and the PSB are finally treated with the appropriate amount of respect.)

Still, he can't help thinking they wouldn't be having this conversation now, if these foreign agencies had respected the official channels ahead of time. Maybe Hiro could be hiding in Nagano then, with his brother, instead of being confined to the other half of the globe. In the US, of all the terrible places to be. He shivers.

By the time they're done it's very late. Rei is already half-dozing off, despite his best efforts to stay awake. It would be highly irresponsible to drive in this state, so he's asked their hosts for a coffee (he's sure a place housing Akai will have more than enough of it to go around). He'll just rest his eyes for a moment, until they're back.

Something light is being dropped on him, almost stirs him to consciousness. But it's warm, soft, and smells of huddling together in an abandoned apartment.

(Of long-forgotten small comforts.)

Not a threat.

Thus satisfied, his body collects its due, and he's dragged back under, into deep, dreamless sleep.

Which brings Rei to the reason he's late.

Someone, and he has a very good idea of who it was, put his phone in airplane mode, drew all the curtains shut, and kept the rest of the house quiet.

(Let him sleep for as long as he needed to.)

So Rei wakes up with a start, in a barely familiar place, the digital clock on the wall indicating it's way past opening time for Poirot. Shit.

He grabs his belongings, pistol, clothes and keys and all, and dashes out the door. He swears he can see Okiya - no, Akai, he was right, damn it - look down on him from that favourite window of his. Asshole. Contrary to him Rei has a job, a cover to maintain. He'll get back at him, yet.

It should probably worry him that he can perform the drive to Poirot on autopilot. Too many late-night stakeouts turning into impromptu naps, requiring him to drive straight to work after. So much trouble, over nothing. If Akai had just cooperated sooner-

Then, what? Rei hadn't managed to track him down before his supposed death, and the less interaction there is between Okiya Subaru and Amuro Tooru, the better for both of them. He grinds his teeth, barely manages to brake in time for a redlight.

(Hates that he understands the caution, to a degree.)

The universe really is conspiring against him, today.

After the lunchtime rush, a certain pocket-sized detective is ushered in through the door, followed by his guardian and her best friend. The kid gives him odd looks all throughout ordering lunch, too sharp in a way that makes the hairs at the back of his neck stand in up. Rei gives him his sunniest smile, and an extra packet of sugar. He's played games with Gin and Vermouth in worse conditions; he won't yield to a particularly precocious six-year-old.

Despite getting more sleep than the last three nights combined, he's not feeling too well. A single good night's rest can't undo weeks of insomnia. If anything, it only makes apparent what he's lacking.

He finds his mind wandering, glad the preparation of food comes automatically, by now. Whisk and mix and pour. Fry, remove from the pan...

"...uro? You seem unwell."

Too-familiar green eyes stare back at him, bags under the eyes and all. Rei barely manages not to flinch.

Of all the people to catch him spacing out, it just has to be Akai's little sister.

"Ah, miss Sera. I apologize, I was just pondering some new options for our menu." He winks, gives her his most dazzling smile. "The chamomile lavender honey tea cake has me under its spell."

In response, she just wrinkles her nose, unimpressed. Squints at him with those jade eyes that always see through him too easily.

"Are you sure you're not running a fever? It seems a little warm in here already, yet you're working in a sweater."

Rei blinks at that. The temperature seems fine to him. Azusa hasn't said anything about it either.

"I appreciate the concern, but I assure you, I'm perfectly fine. Now, what can I get you?"

One slice of red velvet cake (of course - why did they even keep that on the menu?) and a macchiato later he's rid of her.

For now, at least - she's joined her friends at the window seats, and judging by the way she keeps sneaking glances at him when she thinks he isn't looking, he hasn't seen the last of her yet.

Still, her questions are odd. Surely he doesn't look that terrible?

(Vermouth has taught him some of her secrets; he's been concealing the shadows under his eyes for a while now. Nobody's ever found him out. Why is it now that people notice?)

He continues to work mindlessly, unfocused. This damn shift doesn't seem to want to end.

He just about manages to avoid knocking Ran out for leaning over the counter, into his space. She remains blissfully unaware of the danger she just escaped, smiling softly, kindly.

"Excuse me, I have a question."

Rei closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, counts to four. Smiles at the girl. "Go ahead", he says, continuing to whisk some cake batter.

Ran leans in closer, conspiratorially.

"Masumi is too shy to ask" - that's a bold-faced lie, if he's ever heard one, and he's something of an expert on the matter - "but she'd love to know where you got that sweater."

Now, Ran's a lovely young lady, always eager to help. It's a pity she's being manipulated for Sera's gain. Because there has to be more to the question, even if Rei can't see it yet.

Of course, he can't tell the girls the truth - Kazami bought it for Bourbon's cover. But the best lies are closest to the truth, so-

"I apologize, but I do not know where it was bought. A friend gave it to me." His best calculated-apologetic smile smoothes the blow, hopefully.

"Oh. I see." Ran visibly deflates. Still, her good manners prevail. "Thank you, though!" And with that, she's heading back to her table.

Strange. What could Sera possibly want with his sweater? If she wanted to track him down, surely there's more efficient ways, and it's not like he doesn't have a dozen similar cream sweaters-

Wait. Cream?

Rei's pretty sure he dressed in black to infiltrate the Kudo manor. He's not been home and he hasn't changed for work.

He manages to supress a groan, but he's sure there's some unpleasant emotion visible on his face.

...he must have grabbed the sweater along with the rest of his belongings in the morning rush.

Now that he's looking at it, it's clearly a little too large for him. It's also warm, fuzzy, soft, and utterly unoffensive. That's probably why it didn't register, before.

The sweater does smell decidedly of Akai - cigarettes and a hint of his obnoxious aftershave. The warm scent of curry is new - though unsurprising, given his foray into cooking. Great. That's why they've been staring at him. Sera probably recognizes the sweater and Conan spends enough time with Akai to recognize the scent.

His gut instinct is to go change, right now, get rid of the damning piece of connection to the man he has too many conflicting emotions about. But a long-sleeved black turtleneck is hardly appropriate work attire for Poirot. Besides, if he changes now, the pair of detectives watching him will just have their suspicions confirmed.

So he grits his teeth, takes in a deep breath that smells too much like Akai, and gets back to work.

Rei does change out of the sweater as soon as he's done with his shift.

(It doesn't help. The scent lingers.)

He's tempted to just toss the sweater, but can't help feeling like it would be a waste. It's quality craftsmanship, well-worn but taken care of - this kind of sweater would pill, otherwise.

It really shouldn't be faulted for its owner's flaws.

So he puts the sweater in a bag, intending to have it dry-cleaned and give it back later.

He should really hunt down Akai, too, but if he's honest, he's just too tired. He probably shouldn't even drive, in his condition, but he needs to get to a safe place, to think about the developments of the night.

He reports to Kuroda, showers thoroughly, and falls into bed.

Rei can't have slept long. The sunset colours the world in blood red hues by the time he wakes up, out of breath, heartbeat too fast.

Visions of smoke and ash cling to him. Explosions, destroying him one by one, until nothing remains but death alone.

Hagiwara and Matsuda, taken by violent flame.

Hiro's remains, crushed and burnt beyond recognition.

Akai's smile, grimly defiant, as he's shot by Kir. He too finds his end in fire.

They're gone.

Consumed by the inferno that seems to follow Rei around. Which burns everything he cares about, leaves him freezing in its wake.

(He can't even cry, his tears evaporating in the heat.)

Rei shivers, draws the blankets closer. Hopes for a little bit of cover, a little bit of warmth.

Please. If he could just shake off the nausea. If he could stop his spiralling thoughts. Logically, he knows that's not all true, even if his heart burns. Akai and Hiro aren't dead.

It's a lie, they're alive, it's a lie, they're alive, it's a lie a lie a lie a lie-

A set of sharp barks rips him out of his thoughts, back into the present.

Oh. He's woken Haro.

The little guy stands in front of his bed, ears tucked back and hackles raised. A defiant ball of fluff that cares so much, trying to growl the nightmares away.

(It might just work.)

Slowly, shaking and somewhat off-balance, he reaches down to scoop up his dog. Wiggles the blanket off his shoulders so he may cradle the whining bundle of fur to his chest. It's soothing, to feel the warmth of another living being by his side. They sit, the silence permeated by Haro's huffed breaths. His body heat seeps into Rei's chest, nestles in his heart.

"I apologize for worrying you. I'll be fine, soon."

He's not alone.

Haro nudges his hand, demands to be pet. Rei obliges, of course he does.

He's not alone.

Still, the headache is a pain. He won't be able to go back to sleep like this, will need to grab a painkiller.

He makes his way to the kitchen counter, keeping to the walls because he's still somewhat unsteady, carrying his bundle of warmth along.

The dog throws a fit as they pass the bag with Akai's sweater, growling and yapping at it. Despite the circumstances, Rei can't help but smile.

"I'm glad to see we feel the same way about him."

Wait.

Inspiration strikes in the form of a very stupid idea.

Because that sweater, with its stupid mixed scents, reeking of Akai, is proof he didn't just imagine last night's events. Tangible and olfactory and physical proof. If he were to wake from a nightmare, with it by his side...the anger at Akai would surely keep the pain at bay.

It's worth a try.

When he goes back to bed, Haro lies down beside him. Rei keeps petting him, one-handedly. With the other, he holds on to a cream sweater that isn't his.

When he breathes, it smells of too-long stakeouts in windy apartments.

Of Rye's extra blankets, the ones he started to bring when he noticed Bourbon always freezing; irritating to no end, how he was always better prepared for cold weather than Rei.

It smells of Bourbon's cooking, given in exchange for soft blankets.

Scents of a tentative alliance, as thread-bare as the fabric between them.

Grounded between the warmth of Haro, and the scent of Akai, Rei falls asleep, waiting for the dog days to finally be over.

#OMG #IRIIIIS #this is so cute #and so funny too #rei accidentally stealing akai's sweater #and then having to deal with everyone's *questions*#sorry rei you brought this on yourself #also HARO AAAAAA

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coffeeviolinist · 2 days

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Still crying years later

If you want a short comic about my akam headcanon that Akai lets his hair grows again it's right there

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coffeeviolinist · 6 days

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#dcmk #akai family #akai tsutomu #shitpost

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coffeeviolinist · 9 days

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Everyone assumes that Jodie is still hung up on Akai Shuichi, but truthfully, she couldn’t care less about the fact that he’s in love with someone else. He’s free to do whatever he pleases, and she has more self-respect than to pine after a man who made it clear he doesn’t want her anymore.

But it does bother her that he won’t at least acknowledge what he did to her. She doesn’t expect flowers or a heartfelt letter of apology, but the fact that he seems to think everything is fine and dandy between them hurts more than she wants to admit. As if he didn’t crush her heart out of nowhere for a woman he barely knew at the time. As if she’s somehow supposed to be grateful for the way he ended things with her.

Jodie knows Shu was only doing what he thought was best, and to that extent, she can understand where he was coming from. But it’s difficult to sympathize with him entirely because when she thinks about what she would have done in his position, she knows without a doubt that she would have fought to keep him. She would have chosen him over any temptations that might have come her way without a second thought, yet he wasn’t willing to do the same for her. The moment there was any question as to where she stood in his heart, he left her behind without a second thought, and now, he won’t even acknowledge her feelings. More than that, he won’t even acknowledge that they were ever together. He treats her as if she’s just another FBI colleague, and while it’s most likely just his way of saying he wants to have a friendly relationship, it makes Jodie feel as if she’s losing her mind.

Why won’t he acknowledge their history? How could he do this to her? After all the time she spent trying to clear out the various personal items he left at her apartment, after deleting and then un-deleting their photos from her camera roll, and after all the tears she shed over him late at night, wondering why he gave up on her so easily, how could he just pretend that none of it ever happened?

Has she been deluding herself this whole time? Did she misunderstand the nature of their relationship? Is that why he seems to have forgotten what they had so easily? Could it be that she was just never as important to him as she believed?

But…that can’t be true, surely. It can’t.

All those times he smiled at her. Walking to the deli around the corner to grab lunch, her hand clasped in his. The “good morning” texts. Late nights spent at each other’s apartments, cuddling on the couch while making fun of a bad Hallmark romance flick.

All the times she looked at him and thought that if she told him she loved him, he would have said it back.

It was real. She knows it was real. They were real.

It couldn’t have all been in her head…right?

#dcmk #akai shuichi #jodie starling

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coffeeviolinist · 11 days

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It tugs, sometimes. Curious and foolish.

That traitorous heart mana of his, reaching out, drawing in, seeking connection in the way that's in their blood, their soul, their nature. Synchronicity.

Rei's not known it, before.

Where other demons might be attuned to family, Rei has no one to claim the spot. So, his heart mana sings, unblemished, its lonely little sonata, the song of his homeland. All there is to him, granted by air and earth and starlight.

He has so much to give, and yet, it isn't good enough. Discordant, they say. Human, they snarl, disgust evident in their tones.

Thus, growing up Rei learns to compose himself. Pushes himself to the brink in order to rewrite his heartbeat's melody. Puts himself out there, gets stronger, richer in experience, whenever he draws back. Over and over and over again.

Until one day, pushing himself past reason, he almost doesn't return.

But while he hasn't been looking, a new melody has taken residence by his side. Soft and steady high notes, barely perceptible.

Morofushi Hiromitsu, faded, yet giving himself so generously.

Rei hears him, takes him in and amplifies the notes he's given, until others may do so, too. Until Hiro may do it himself.

Their hearts mana, separate but inseparable, resonating in response.

And Rei's called back home.

Rye is low notes, a deep bass, slow and steady.

He could enrich their harmony, if only he wasn't so gratingly offbeat.

Rye's unrefined and ever-contradicting himself. Cold and uncaring, yet bleeding red like the rest of them. A long-ranged combatant, always too close. The smartest fool Rei ever has had the displeasure of meeting.

He takes Rei's heart mana greedily, gives it back tenfold.

Then he takes Scotch's, and their tentative song, not yet given voice, dissolves into dissonant whispers.

When they meet again, Rei doesn't want to feel Akai's heart mana for the longest time.

It's too painfully familiar, echoes of the past still trapped reverberating within. Misery-in-resonance almost dusts Rei.

It's his duty to be here, and so he stays, but there's others to preoccupy himself with.

So, he remains a careful distance away from Akai. Doesn't see the muted melancholy wrapped around him until it's too late, until Akai's almost gone dark and quiet.

When he heals Akai, he pours all of his heart mana into him. Their hearts still sing the same tune, after all these years, discordant notes and all.

The journey is too perilous to allow them senseless grudges. Their lives are one. If either falls, the story ends.

They rely on each other's mana like air, sharing desperate breaths like drowning men in a land that wants to drag them under.

What even is left of their individual songs? It doesn't matter, anymore. They've shared so much it really is one and the same, disjointed notes smoothed out through time and touch and trial, into an elegy for Scotch.

As they finally reach tentative harmony, they rip themselves apart.

There is dissonance in Demon Lord Furuya’s heart. A furious ache that even Hiro's return can't soothe.

But he has a duty, to his land and his people. He can't stop to rest. Besides, the one to replenish his heart mana, he who's grown so good at it over the years, has left, exiled by Rei's own hand.

Akai is a fool, but so is Rei.

He clings to the thrum of Akai's low warm notes, barely an echo within himself.

Da capo al coda, the cyclical rhythm of life remains the same.

Rei's still not good enough.

He's bested their best. He's saved the realms. And all that matters, in the end, is that they see his heart mana, and find it lacking.

But he's no longer the lonely manaspawn he once was. His song no longer just his own.

He's holding the position through skill and strategy, through force of personality. With the help of friends and allies gathered on his journey.

They'll have to listen to his tune, this time.

The key, of course, is an argument.

Their feverish crescendo crashes into mellow adagio - along with their lips.

Rei knows, then: if no one else accepted him, the boundless love in Akai's heart would be enough to supply his heart mana for as long as he lives.

It's exhilarating, to share every last bit of himself, to accept all of Shuuichi in turn. Synchronized in full, for now and as long as they live.

Pulsating, between them, the potential to compose a new melody, together. Point and counterpoint. Bright and warm and vibrant and home.

When he takes Akai's hand, leads him to the dancefloor, the festive joy of friends and family soaking the ambient mana with joyous ringing, it's enough to put pressure even on Rei's heart mana.

He can't help thinking that this should've been so much easier. But theirs has never been the easy way.

And it's not the conclusion, but the overture to their new life, together.

The waltz of their future, a thunderous symphony.

@floofiestboy's Demon King Furuya AkAm AU is giving me too many feelings. Go read it here.

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coffeeviolinist · 12 days

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Thank you for all the fluffy AkAm content! Now to switch things up a little: can I get Akai coming to Poirot to see (read: bother) his bf and meeting Azusa for the first time (I’ll leave it up to you to decide whether the meeting goes well)?

(right to left, 6 pages, more under cut) enjoy!

sneaky cafe dates they just do a lot of strategy meetings at poirot!

hope you like it, coffee <3!

#aaaaaa #CUTE #akam #don’t worry Azusa I promise he’s not that scary #spend about five minutes with him and you’ll soon realize what a nerd he is #tysm for this i love it #it’s perfect

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coffeeviolinist · 13 days

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IRIIIIIIS

Part I

"Are you free Thursday evening?" Akai's facing away from him, getting out of the car in a hurry. Rei's picked him up from his flat this morning (his mustang broke down, apparently), which is how they're both running late now. It's a good thing the meeting can't start without them.

In any case, Rei isn't - things have been busy in the aftermath of the takedown of the organisation, as Akai should be well aware. He did, after all, just return from a three-month vacation to FBI headquarters in Washington. The official cover story, as far as Rei knows, is Okiya going to the US to continue his PhD, while the authorities prepared to reintroduce the reborn Akai Shuichi to the world. Now he's back for good, officially appointed as the FBI's liaison to the PSB.

While he didn't share what he was up to while he was waiting to be processed, Rei has a pretty good guess - the higher-ups have been expecting all sorts of reports from him, after all, and surely Akai is just as vital a source, involved as they both were. The thought of him doing paperwork is amusing, and strangely domestic in its mundanity. (He'd love to see it.)

So, he'll figure something out. Several people owe him favours, and he has five years of vacation to catch up on. This is the first time Akai is reaching out for a meeting outside of work (not that Rei kept track or anything), and he's not about to let that chance slip through his fingers.

"I'll make it work. What for?" Agreeing without even knowing what he agreed to, he really is pathetic. And yet. He trusts the other won't waste his time or ask for the impossible.

"Dinner at the Myosotis. Seven p.m."

Rei blinks. That rings a bell. Western style fine dining, prohibitively expensive. Waiting lists of half a year, at least. Back then, they were just barely collaborating, surely Akai didn't plan this far ahead? How, then, did he get a table, and why is he inviting Rei to go there? That's the kind of place people go to for romantic marriage proposals; not the sort of restaurant the two of them would frequent, if they do eat out.

"I've already said yes, but... that's quite high-class, isn't it?" Not that he minds - being Bourbon taught him how to frequent places like that. It's just that Akai has never given any sort of indication he might like that kind of place. Huh.

(And really, if he's being honest, any place would be fine as long as it's with Akai. They have a couple of months to catch up on, after all.)

The smile Akai gives him in response is...odd. Small and genuine, private in the way that he's only ever seen Shuichi look at a select few people. Akemi. His siblings. Shinichi. But it doesn't reach his eyes, this time; instead, they're narrowed, burning with something like dread. Rei can't quite make sense of the expression.

"I think the occasion warrants it", is all Akai says before he slams the car door shut, turning his back to Rei. And that's the end of that conversation.

Alright then. Weird.

After that, Rei can't shake the feeling that Akai avoids him outside of work. Takes his smoke breaks alone, leaves immediately after they're done.

In situations like these Rei wishes he could talk to Hiro. It's a best friend's duty to help figure out if he's making something out of nothing, right? Maybe Akai really is just busy. And maybe he truly is in the mood for a celebratory dinner; after all, they haven't really had time to spend together since they came out of hiding, ripped apart by work and duty. They've talked, of course, but now that he's back it seems like the circumstances have calmed down enough to consider such a thing. (Even though a nagging thought tells him the official celebratory gala will be held in two weeks, and he knows Akai isn't looking forward to it.)

The thing is, that doesn't warrant it the look Akai gave him. That look was charged, it meant something. Through the years, Akai has looked at him a great many different ways. Rye mostly cold and disinterested at first, then with that faintly concealed amusement that still drives him up the walls. Okiya usually observed him with curiosity and caution. And Akai? A variety of expressions. Laughter and pain and gratitude. That bone-deep weariness that seems to cling to him like his shadow. Just once, with surprise. But rarely, if ever, as scared as he'd looked when he'd asked him out.

What was he afraid of? It's not like Rei was going to decline dinner, even if he's a little insulted it's western food. (Then again, he's quite proud of his prowess regarding traditional Japanese cuisine, so really, that would've been a worse choice.) Akai might just crave nostalgic food.

This is the third time this week he's reached this point in the argument with himself, and it really doesn't feel like he's getting any closer to the truth.

In the years he's known him, Akai has never shown to be the type to celebrate. Not that the organisation left much room to celebrate. As Okiya, Rei never got close enough to figure out his preferences. And as for Akai...well, he seemed happy enough, if exhausted, coming back from his sister's birthday party, and that's really the only indication Rei has. Maybe he doesn't know Akai as well as he thought. The idea stings.

Still, it makes no sense. If he wanted to celebrate, the takedown was a team effort, and Rei knows agents Starling and Black are in the country. He's checked their schedules, but neither they nor Kazami are free next week, at that certain hour. (Alright, well, in Kazami's case it might be Rei's fault he's busy, but he needs someone capable to cover for him.)

The Kudos, arguably the masterminds behind the operation, have left for a vacation to the Swiss alps, too. Allegedly, they've taken Shinichi with them to recover in mountain air - privately, Rei has heard through the grapevine that talking things out with Ran didn't go so well. She's asked for some time to think about their relationship, so Shinichi is off bringing crime to Swiss ski resorts for a change.

None of the usual suspects are free, or invited. It seems it's really just the two of them.

He doesn't want to, can't afford to indulge the foolish hope that Akai might've missed him as much as Rei did (his dry wit, his dependability, the scent of his cigarettes and aftershave in their sheets). They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but is it enough for such a shift to occur with Akai?

Their work did keep them too busy to do anything but exchange short texts or calls every once in a while. That little had been a must, for Rei; while officially the organisation might be gone, some stragglers have yet to be found. Thus, he's been checking up on Akai, just to make sure he's still alright out there. (He wants to touch him and hold him and hear his heartbeat, wants to make sure he's alive. Wants too many things he can't have, as usual.)

Rei has promised himself he'll never act on these feelings; can't destroy this careful balance they have managed to attain. But if Akai's the one reaching out, who is Rei to decline? If after all they've gone through Akai still wants to stay by his side, Rei doesn't have the strength to push him away for his own good.

Throughout their relationship, it's always been Rei asking to meet him to exchange sweaters and information. For Akai to take this step now, and in such a grandiose manner, leaves him reeling, uncertain of the other's intentions. Among the living, he's probably the one who knows the sniper best, and yet he just can't figure out what this means. The uncertainty is maddening.

Damnit, really, what is he supposed to think about Akai inviting him to a high-class dinner? Just the two of them?

Hiro hasn't contacted him either, since that time in the Kudo mansion. He'd assured Rei he was safe, doing alright. Sorry for not being able to meet. And that was that.

(In a moment of weakness, Rei's asked Akai for his number. But Akai had revealed he'd only gotten the contact info for a burner phone, worthless after that one use.)

He's missed Hiro before, when he wasn't sure whether he was alive or dead, but somehow, knowing he is out there and not being able to reach him is worse. Hiro was supposed to have his back, and now he can't even help him out with his uncertain thoughts and feelings regarding one Akai Shuichi. Traitor.

Rei's fretting for hours about his look for dinner. (When was he last out on a date that actually mattered?)

It's not like he's lacking in confidence. He knows he cleans up nicely, and working with Vermouth for years has left him fashion-conscious. He's perfectly aware of how to dress up appropriately for a venue like the Myosotis. Honestly, he's more concerned (and quite frankly, intrigued) how Akai will fare.

Still, he wonders if the red tie is perhaps a bit too much. He's added it on a whim, for a splash of colour, but now he's considering whether it's too bold, wearing Akai's namesake openly. He's probably overthinking it. It's not like Akai to pick up on such clues.

He's triple-checked, by this point, his nails and hair and teeth. His suit is crisply ironed. It's perfect. What could possibly go wrong?

Rei finds himself at the restaurant a quarter hour early. A waiter shows him to the lovely window seats Akai has reserved for them, looking out over the city's lights. It's beautiful. The place is pleasantly quiet, a separée creating an ambience of privacy. Bathing the space in warm light is a cream candle, placed on a perfectly ironed tablecloth. After a couple of moments, the waiter returns with a bottle of quality champagne, chilled for their convenience.

Myosotis couldn't be more stereotypically romantic if it tried, and Rei finds his face burning as hot as the flame in front of him. It's a good thing he's a little early; he'll need time to steady himself to face Akai. Maybe have a glass of cool champagne to calm his nerves.

Rei runs one last check, refreshes his cologne on neck and wrist, and waits.

A couple minutes go by, during which he tries several different grounding techniques, to limited effect. He still perks up when, from the corner of his eyes, he spots Okiya's pastel pink hair - though it is in confusion, the excitement dying down quickly, replaced with fury. The posture of the man is incredibly familiar.

Conscious of where they are, and what is appropriate, Rei gets up from their table to greet him.

"You've kept me waiting long enough."

And with the brightest possible smile he can muster, he slaps his best friend across the face, hard.

"Yeah, I guess I deserve that." At least it's his own voice. Hiro's awkward smile looks off on Okiya's pretty face, and Rei has to fight the urge to throw his arms around his neck. Whether to hug him or strangle him, he doesn't quite know, himself.

"You..." 'deserve much worse than that. Deserve much better than that. Are an asshole and an idiot and it's so good to see you-'

People are noticing the commotion. Bourbon's reflexes kick in, uncomfortable with the attention. He finds himself closing the distance and hissing at Hiro.

"Take a seat before we cause even more of a scene."

Hiro-as-Okiya follows him into the separée. A waiter comes by, pouring him a glass of champagne too. The mood is as frosty as their drinks.

Hiro makes no move to continue the conversation. Great.

"...would you care to explain", Rei asks through his best Amuro smile, "what exactly you are doing here?" He considers adding 'and why you are dressed as Akai's ridiculous cover', but figures that one's self-evident.

"I wanted to see you, so Akai helped me out. The paperwork is taking its sweet time." He says it nonchalantly, as if it is that simple. As if he hasn't been MIA for half a year, and presumed KIA for years before that.

He's willing to bet this meeting was Akai's bright idea. Rei's all too familiar with his idea of 'help'. Doing what he thinks is best in the shadows, without talking to the person he's allegedly helping out.

It sucks, because he knows the FBI agent meant well. He probably thought this was a pleasant surprise. (And it is, just a little.)

It just very much does not help that Rei had quite different expectations of how this evening would go. He was expecting something much nicer than spontaneously having to decide whether he should make use of Hiro's shellfish allergy and poison him right then and there. (The answer is no, will always be no, who is he even kidding.)

Hiro's blue eyes stare at him from across the table, illuminated in warm candlelight. They clash horribly with the pink hair. It makes Rei nauseous. He looks down at the table.

He manages a strangled "I would have appreciated a heads-up." For this situation in particular and the fact that Hiro's alive, in general.

"Did he not tell you?"

"No. And it's not like I expected anything of the sort from him." 'You, however, should have known better.'

"Look, Zero-" Rei's withering glare makes him falter for a second, but he presses on. "I couldn't let you know. It was too dangerous at the time, for myself and Rye. And you."

Oh, great. Another person looking out for his supposed well-being. Except, it really only was about the success of their mission, wasn't it? As if that was ever worth his best friend's life.

He clenches his fist under the table, tries to calm himself. Fails. "I get that. I really, truly do." He rises, slams his hands on the table, leans across. Stares at the farce that is Okiya, just a lie this time.

"But it's been three years, Hiro." Then, quietly: "I thought you were dead."

Countless nights spent visiting morgues, checking if all bodies matching Hiro's stature were accounted for. Checking international flights. Investigating the ruins of the exploded building, in hopes of finding evidence of tampering. Looking over the remains of the body, burnt and crushed, with only the totality of the destruction hinting at foul play. Years and years of hounding Akai, trying to get answers from the one person who had to know, only to not make it in time. That terrible night Gin had sent him a gift, Akai falling lifelessly back into the video's frame, joining Scotch in a violent end; his last lead going up in flames and smoke. Mourning Matsuda and Date, alone.

He fights down the bile rising in his throat with practiced ease. His eyes sting and burn, but he won't be embarrassed now by giving in.

To his credit, Hiro has backed off as far as he can, shrinking under Rei's glare. Familiar blue eyes lock with his, and Rei needs to focus on them because everything else about the Okiya getup gives him whiplash he doesn't know how to deal with. Hiro takes a breath, steadies himself.

"Zero." A warm hand is gently laid atop his own. So familiar, so comforting, even after years apart. Rei wants to run, or fight, or both, but finds himself anchored in place.

"I'm sorry. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, as many times as you need me to."

As if any number of apologies could erase years and years of grief and guilt and loneliness. If he'd just been faster, if Hiro had just trusted him, they would've found a solution, it was never worth his life-

"...why didn't you come to me, Hiro?" Idiot.

Because after months and years to contemplate it, that's the root of the problem, isn't it? The start of the betrayal. The broken promise from their academy days, splintering even further. 'We can handle anything, as long as we're together.' And then fate had ripped them apart, one by one, counting down to zero. Except Hiro had had a choice.

"I'm sorry. I did what I thought was necessary." He wears his emotions on his face.

And for a split-second, Rei doesn't see Hiro. He sees Akai, a week ago; his small smile, his pained eyes. Denial and self-sacrifice. Just what in the world made Akai look at him like that?

It's disorienting enough that he finds his spiralling thoughts interrupted, blinking at Hiro. He backs off, sits back down.

"Promise me, now, that you'll never run off like that again." Please, he can't say, but tries to convey through squeezing Hiro's hand just slightly too hard, before he pulls back in time for the waiter coming in with their entrées.

"I'll try."

Rei glares at him. Not good enough.

"Okay, okay, I won't." Hiro laughs, and oh, how Rei has missed the sound. Some of the tension bleeds out of him, and he finds himself joining his best friend, helplessly.

This isn't over, the pain isn't gone. It's unlikely it ever will, and there surely will be more arguments in the future (and sparring. He really wants to knock some more sense into Hiro). The trust they're missing will be hard to rebuild.

But Rei has had no choice but to live without Hiro for three years now. Has missed him painfully, every single day. If he's going to live in pain either way, might as well have it caused by Hiro's continued presence by his side.

If he gets a second chance at life then Hiro deserves one, too.

...................................................................................

Part II

Dinner after that is slow, but pleasant.

Akai has apparently pre-ordered roasts that need several days to be prepared for them, and while the quality is good, the style of food just isn't Rei's favourite. Hiro seems pretty delighted by it though, so that's something at least.

They leave charged topics carefully untouched. Since Hiro isn't on active duty, Rei can't really talk about his PSB work, and Hiro isn't at liberty to talk about his cover either. So small talk it is. Rei shows Hiro pictures of Haro, and he's immediately taken (as he should).

By the time they've made it past the main dish, they're running out of idle chitchat. Hiro's bracing himself, seems to be working up the courage to ask something. Rei can already tell he won't like the upcoming conversation.

"So, Zero." He folds his hands together, and leans on the table, looking inquisitively. "Do you mind explaining what's going on between you and Akai?"

"Nothing." The answer comes too quick and too pressed, he's not fooling anyone. And that's without accounting for the fact that Hiro knows him too well, even after three years apart. He smiles, faintly.

"Of course. Nice cologne, by the way. I'm sure Hagiwara would approve of the selection." He taps the fingers of the hand he's wrapped around Rei's wrist earlier on the wooden table. Rei feels embarrassment well up. Hiro, as usual, is annoyingly perceptive. Still, cologne is not too out of the ordinary. He tries to cover his choice up with professionalism, and even almost believes himself.

"Yes. It's only proper for an establishment such as this one."

"Yes, yes." Hiro concedes, too easily. His eyes narrow, aiming for the kill. "And I guess red just happens to be your new favourite colour?" The crimson tie around his neck feels too much like a noose, suddenly, restricting his airflow. It's probably the damn candle's fault too, burning all their oxygen. He flushes, despite his best efforts.

"Not my favourite, but it felt appropriate for a celebration", he gets out. It really doesn't help that Hiro is wearing Akai's second skin, the one he's too comfortable seeing. Though the eyes are different, he has trouble shaking the reminder of certain evenings in the Kudo manor. Drinking their sorrows away, just the two of them.

"And you were going to celebrate with a romantic candlelight dinner?" Hiro's arched eyebrow could reach space.

"Trust me, that is as strange to me as it must be to you."

"Oh no, it isn't - I've seen the look he gets when you text him."

And Rei hates himself, hates his traitorous body that perks up at those words, hates the burning curiosity. Wants Hiro to explain, wants it to be true. Hates that Hiro knows how to play him, still, judging by that infuriatingly kind smile. Hiro is so lucky they're in public. He'd very much like to wipe it from his face.

Rei wonders, briefly, if that's why Akai selected the location, and didn't tell him the truth - if he'd asked, Rei's not sure he would have agreed to meet Hiro, the betrayal still too painful in his mind. Not that this kind of secrecy is appreciated. He really thought they were past that, by now. He'll need to deal with Akai, properly, later.

"Do I look like I care about what the FBI idiot is up to?"

He knows a tactical misstep when he sees it, and he's walked right into this one.

"To be quite honest with you: yes." Hiro hides his smile behind his glass of champagne. Badly. His eyes shine with amusement.

Damnit. What's the point of pretending when Hiro just sees right through him anyways? Rei's so tired of fighting himself at every step.

"Alright, fine. Make yourself useful, then. What did he look like?"

"He lit up like his phone's screen whenever a new text arrived." That, at least, is soothing. There had been quite a few texts. He'd assumed, after all, that he was keeping a bored and lonely Akai company. Just how long has Hiro been with him? Did Akai just ignored his best friend during their flight in favour of chatting with Rei? Asshole.

"If I dare say so, it was quite cute."

Rei doesn't bother to dignify that with a response. His burning cheeks probably provide more of an answer than he would like to give, anyways.

"Alright, I won't push you if you don't want to talk about it. Just know that I'll have an open ear for you, if you change your mind." He slips a card with a handwritten phone number in it. It's not much, but it's better than nothing. Rei memorizes it, then burns the paper.

"By the way." Hiro seems a little concerned, fiddling with his glass. "Akai gave me a couple of odd looks while we were flying back. Any idea what that's about? He went out of his way to sneak me into the country, and we had some good talks, so I struggle to see why he's upset with me?"

At this point, the waiter brings in their dessert.

A medium-sized chocolate cake, heart-shaped. A fork is delicately placed on either side.

Hiro shrugs in response to his questioning look. Amuro's customer service smile slips on easily enough. "I'm sorry? I think you've mistaken the dessert for this table."

"Ah, no, gentlemen. All dishes have been prepared according to the requests of the person making the reservation." How odd.

They thank the waiter, wait until he's out of earshot.

Disjointed information is snapping into place.

"Hiro, you've seen more of him recently. Please tell me this is Akai's idea of a joke."

Because the man has a keen sense of humour, even if it's often only for his own amusement. Gods know as Bourbon Rei wanted to strangle him for his quiet mockery.

But surely he can't be implying what Rei thinks he's implying.

"Hm." Hiro pauses for a minute, bless him, actually contemplating the issue while taking an appreciative bite from the chocolate cake. Which they will not be sharing, like that. Rei cuts it in half with his fork, dragging one half towards his side of the plate.

"I don't think so, no. It's hard to tell with him." 'No, it's not', Rei wants to say, 'you can tell by the barely visible laughter lines around his eyes.' He wisely keeps his mouth shut. It wouldn't help his case about how little is going on between him and Akai.

"But I'm inclined to say he was painfully sincere. It was his idea to arrange this dinner, and before he dropped me off, he wished me good luck. I assumed, at the time, that he was concerned about me walking back out alive without my head bitten off. Now, I think he might have somehow gotten the wrong idea about us."

Rei shoves a piece of chocolate cake into his mouth. The icing melts pleasantly on his tongue.

Akai set him up on a date with his best friend.

The FBI agent can be so smart when he needs to. How is he so hopeless whenever interpersonal relationships are involved?

"Idiot."

That's going to be a fun talk.

Sweater weather AU masterpost

#this is so good oh my god??#THE ANGST #THE PAIN #rei feeling so betrayed but still missing hiro so much #AKAI SETTING HIRO AND REI UP ON A DATE #sir why are you such an idiot #akai you are reaching black hole levels of density

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coffeeviolinist · 15 days

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Akai and Rei ‒ Case Closed: Black Iron Submarine

#dcmk #akam #they’re soulmates your honor

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coffeeviolinist · 16 days

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Stealing from me again?

Inspired by this.

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coffeeviolinist · 16 days

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Some kinda pastel-y AkAm with Conan

Sorry for everyone waiting on requests. When I get back from work, I'm just so tired, I can't get myself to do anything but colouring 😓

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coffeeviolinist · 16 days

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If I had a nickel for every time a DetCo ship was revealed to be cousins, I would have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice.

#detco m27 spoilers #iykyk

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coffeeviolinist · 17 days

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Hi :) I haven't posted in a WHILE, but despite that I still get interactions on some detco dogs AU to this day and I've been drawing dogs more and more so.. I've got some new art!

Redesigned Rei as a mix because of his unknown past :) his texts read: "Akita Inu + Sakhalin Husky" , "Rounded trim to blend in & look more Akita than mixed" , "Has a subtle brindle"

As for the FBI trio, Camel is a Great Dane, Akai still a Dobermann, and Jodie Is still a Golden retriever and German shepherd mix! Both Camel and Akai have cropped ears and docked tails due to their job!

I hope to draw more soon but motivation can be hard to come by, so I'm not making any promises

#DOGGO #Rei looks so fluffy I want to pet him #look at that tail!!#he’s majestic

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coffeeviolinist · 19 days

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laid bare

#akam #oh my god #jac #you did it again #look at them they love each other sm #😭😭#they’re perfect

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coffeeviolinist · 23 days

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Akai is going to be the death of him.

This has been a long-time conviction of Rei's, and yet of all the ways that could go, this really is not how he pictured it.

Leading contender for cause of death: irregular blood flow, leaving him without the oxygen necessary for higher brain functions.

Where has it gone? Mostly to his cheeks. And the tips of his ears. They're burning.

(And some of it may have gone further south, pooling warmly in his stomach).

Akai's wearing the sweater Rei made and it's so oversized he's got cute little paws covering his hands. Rei would like to faint now, please. Please. Please?

He closes his eyes in hopes this is all just a hallucination caused by lack of sleep (ignoring the fact Akai just woke him up, actually feeling well-rested for once). But when he opens them again, Akai's still there, eyebrow raised. Lit in the warm colours of a new dawn, and covered in a sweater Rei knows is incredibly soft, because he picked the wool himself. Holding a steaming cup of something.

Hm. It smells like sencha.

Temptation itself, in the morning cool.

Rei curses, resigns himself to the new reality he gets to enjoy now. Okiya Subaru is one thing, the identity deliberately crafted to be harmless and cozy, but Akai Shuichi should not be looking this adorable. Maybe Rei did suffer that concussion, after all.

There's some overlap in their watch cycle, so Rei busies himself trying to get the excess energy out and make breakfast. He's definitely not ignoring Akai. Which would be difficult anyways in the one room apartment they're using to lay low.

It's going to be bland, even with his best efforts. There's barely any spices in stock, just lots and lots of dried and pickled foods, stuff that keeps. Not that Rei's expected anything more from Akai - okay, maybe a little, considering he's trying (and failing) to learn how to cook. Then again, he probably didn't figure he'd actually have to use the safehouse, and they've had worse. That weekend in Rikubetsu comes to mind. It still sends shivers down his spine.

Besides, the food isn't actually the problem - though they'll need to be conservative with it. No, the real issue is the shitty insulation. And terrible heating. Rei shivers in his sweater and huddles closer to the stove. It's not like they can call a HVAC repairman without drawing attention to themselves. Who thought it was a good idea to do this sting in the winter?

Whatever. They'll only need to stay here for a couple of days, until their allies have finished the witch-hunt, and then they can leave this safehouse behind them.

An uneventful breakfast and several hours later it's Akai's turn to sleep. He's mostly been sitting quiet and unobtrusive in the corner chair, keeping an eye on the street below. Rei knows the look, has seen it many times. Mostly on Rye, back in Osaka. Perching on the place with the best view, making as little noise and movement as possible. Coiled up and ready to bolt. The apartment isn't safe, and the mission isn't over. Akai won't rest, not really, until the all-clear. Idiot. As if he's not injured, doesn't need to recover.

"Akai. Your turn." He tries, and is roundly ignored. Akai must've heard him - there's nothing to listen to, in here. If he's somewhere else, mentally, well. Rei's never been good at quitting. Or alright with being denied attention.

"Akai." When the sniper still doesn't react, Rei walks up to him. Grabs a hold of his chin, tipping it up, forcing the other to look up at him. There's no resistance; either Akai is too tired to object, or he actively allows the touch. Rei's not sure which is worse. He feels Akai flinch as he straightens - must be the strain on his injured ribs. The sniper stares up at him, jade eyes dull and lifeless. The shadows under his eyes are deep enough to blot out the sun. Where's his stupid mirth, the barely concealed amusement? This won't do.

"Go lie down. Even if you can't sleep, your body still needs the rest. You're useless like this." How long has it been until he last slept?

"I can still-" Akai starts to object, eyes flicking to the window, to the street below.

"No. I've got this." Akai's so close, and so painfully tense, and Rei really doesn't know how to get his message through Akai's thick skull. So he tries for the closest approximation. He leans down that last little bit, until their noses touch, their foreheads rest together. Akai's skin burns against his own. "Rest." A single word, too gentle to be a command, but Akai still follows. Long, soft lashes flutter against Rei's cheek, feather-light, as green eyes slip shut. The ghost of a sigh brushes against his lips. The pressure against him increases as Shuichi loosens into his touch.

Rei allows himself to indulge in the warmth of their shared space for a few shared breaths. It shouldn't be this hard to pull away. "Not here, idiot. The bed."

It's unclear whether Akai actually needs the help, or if he just likes to force Rei to do extra work, but he finds himself supporting the sniper to the bed. Helps lower Akai to the mattress as he settles in, careful not to aggravate his wounds. Cocoons him in the blanket. And if he's being a little too considerate, well, Akai looks about ready to pass out, so it's likely he won't notice or remember.

Rei finds himself checking in every once in a while, making sure Akai's still breathing. The man can be eerily quiet when he wants, and in slumber he almost seems dead. The first couple of times Rei saw him asleep, he found it disconcerting. By now, he knows how to spot Akai's signs of life, the faint rise and fall of his chest.

Of all the things that happened in the last 48 hours, Rei's mind returns to the most harmless offense - Akai in a too-large sweater.

How could that happen? He knows Akai's features by heart, by touch and measurement, and he's pretty sure he's counted out the rows and numbers correctly. Okay, fine, he might have picked out the design and worked on it in a hazy fugue state, but that is only slightly worse than his usual operating conditions. The result shouldn't be such a disaster. Maybe elder Tsuruyama will know where he went wrong.

(Because he did go wrong. No amount of stupid, heady pride at seeing Akai wear what Rei made for him with his own two hands can dissuade him from that. Rei tries to shove down the satisfaction spreading warmth throughout his body, right down to his toes. But the feeling has been building for weeks now, and is getting harder to ignore each day. Rei pretends he doesn't see the signs, doesn't know what they mean. They can't afford the distraction.)

Thankfully, his musings are interrupted by a sharp intake of breath, followed by a series of shallow gasps. He scans the room, wondering if Akai's noticed something he missed, when, with a quiet thud, the thick blanket slides to the floor. Akai's twisting and turning on the bed. Oh, great, the genius wants to agitate his wounds and freeze in one go.

Rei abandons his watch uneasily. But it's the middle of the day, and anyone coming after them right now would have to be stupidly brazen. Besides, he'd probably not notice attackers anyways. Akai's panting and thrashing is way too distracting.

Night (well, day in this case) terrors are not unusual for people in their profession, and if they are a regular issue for Akai, that might explain his general reluctance to get to bed, as well as the permanent bags under his eyes. But at this rate, Rei will need to intervene, or Akai will further injure himself.

"Don't go inside-" Akai's words, low and sharp, stop Rei dead in his tracks. Oh. They should've done a debrief before heading to bed. He's willing to bet he can guess pretty accurately what holds Akai in its grasp. It takes him a deep breath and a conscious effort of will to shake off the image of the abandoned factory, the smell of dust and mildew. The echo of a gunshot.

"Akai?" Rei continues his slow approach, gentle, non-threatening. Though Akai's eyes are wide open, staring at the ceiling, Rei doubts he can see him.

"At least wait for backup-", Akai pleads, unsteady. He's reaching out, grabbing at empty air. Grinding his teeth in agitation.

Alright. What did Hiro say? Considering Akai's taller, and loathe as Rei is to admit it, a better fighter, trying to wake him is most certainly a bad idea. Even if he weren't stronger, there's a gun on the bedside table, and Rei's not keen to learn what Akai's instincts look like if he wakes up disoriented and with too much adrenaline in his system.

So. Soothing might or might not be possible, but he has to try. "Akai. Shhh, it's all right. You got to me in time. We made it out. I'm here. I'm safe."

'Because you took a bullet for me', he doesn't say. Bulletproof vest or not, Akai's carrying the reminder of his actions on his chest, in cracked ribs, tender skin, and colourful bruises. It's grating to be in his debt, yet again. The first time might have been accidental, more about Scotch than Bourbon, but there's no doubt that this time, it was all about Rei. Who has the sickening suspicion Akai would've acted no differently, had he not been wearing body armour.

It makes no sense why he would go this far. There's people waiting for him - his siblings, his coworkers, the Kudos. Besides, he's the Silver Bullet, meant to take down the organisation. And here he is, throwing it all away for nothing. Who really cares whether Rei survives? He's long resigned himself to the fact he might not.

Hiro comes to mind, and Rei immediately rejects the notion. Maybe it's uncharitable. Things surely were difficult for Hiro, but the longer Rei has to think about it, the less he can forgive him. If he truly had cared about Rei, he would've found a way to let him know he made it. It's been three years, after all, easily enough time to settle into his cover. It shouldn't have fallen to Akai, perceived threat and even enemy at the time, to bring this revelation.

Rei's glad Hiro is safe, make no mistake. But there's years of grief and guilt between them, the loneliness growing roots so deep it's isolated him from the one person that mattered the most. The betrayal of the trust he thought they shared stings every time he thinks about his best friend. If he can even be called that, these days.

Akai thrashes, and Rei barely manages to grab a hold of his arm before he's decked in the face. Stupid. Here he is, getting lost in his own issues, while the other agent needs his support. He owes him that much, if not more.

Making sure he keeps Akai's arms in view, Rei puts the gun into the bedside table's drawer to avoid any accidents. He sits himself down at the corner of the bed, next to the agent's head. The stupid knit cap has slid off, revealing sweat-slick curls of dark hair. Rye's hair used to be so fine, smoothed out by its length, obviously well taken care of. The texture now, as Rei cards his fingers through steadily, is wet and oily - Akai should wash it tomorrow. With all that sweat, he'll need to shower anyways, though the motion might be straining his injuries. It might be good to offer to help - with the hair, that is.

"Not you too, not so soon-" Akai still seems agitated, but the repetitive stroking of his hair grounds them both, little by little. At least he's not kicking out anymore. "Akai, listen. You're not getting rid of me that easily, all right? And they're not getting you, either. You're here, with me, safe and sound. We're both here." And freezing, he notices. Akai's shivering beneath him, seeking his touch, his warmth. Rei feels like an idiot. He really should've grabbed the blanket first. Then again, Akai probably would've just shaken it off again. He'll fetch it when Akai's calmed down a bit more.

He scooches closer. Rubs circles into Akai's shoulder and upper arm, trying to create warmth through friction. Running his hand along, he's glad to feel the mohair he picked is as soft as he had hoped.

"No, please, Rei-" A stupid slip-up, inappropriate not just because it happened in front of the enemy. And yet the PSB agent can't bring himself to be too mad about it. It's not like Aperol lived to tell the tale. Rei had taken the shot in the window of opportunity Akai had bought him, and, well. He might have cared more about dispatching Aperol quickly so he could focus on a downed Akai. He's already mourned Akai once before; he'd rather not do so again, in the foreseeable future.

"Shhh. I'm with you." He squeezes Akai's shoulders, trying to make sure the other knows. He shouldn't indulge like this. Can't encourage Akai's behaviour. But duty demanded he go into that warehouse, and he's really not sure he would've walked back out without Akai.

Either Bourbon's cover is blown, or Rum has decided it's time to clean house and deal with loose ends. Whatever the case may be, killing Aperol will have burnt any goodwill he might have had, if it existed at all. He can't go back.

Except, it hits him: it doesn't matter. If the Kudos' plan worked, there's no place to go back to. He's survived Gin's distrust and Vermouth's games. Rum's relentless chase. He's still standing. Because of skill and luck and the allies Edogawa Conan has collected. Five long years undercover. They're finally over. He doesn't believe in miracles, but this comes pretty damn close.

Of course the job is not over, not by a long shot. There's stragglers to round up, witnesses to interrogate, statements to give. Evidence to submit and analyse. Going up against the Karasuma corporation means their case needs to be airtight, or they'll wiggle out of it with good attorneys. In all likelihood, everyone involved in this operation will need to sleep with one eye open for the rest of their lives.

But the fact remains that it looks like there will be a future, after all.

And it doesn't look terribly bleak.

Three years ago, he'd thought his world had ended. But he'd kept going, hanging on for duty - and the need to corner Akai for answers.

It just might have been worth it.

For late-night talks, shared cigarettes and stolen sweaters. For this beautiful, brave, reckless idiot, lost in fitful sleep beside him. For the hope of a better future, forgotten and rekindled.

He can't bring himself to say it, not even when Akai's asleep in his arms, unpleasant memories barely kept. But he knows it all the same.

'Thank you for keeping me alive to see this day.'

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