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fallenangelsjenniferanddani · 5 years

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~~Fallen Angels~~Chapter 4- “LA Here I Come.”

MC: Ellie Wheeler Language, adult, I don’t own their characters. Just borrowing them for our story.

Hi! Welcome! New to our page and want the inside scoop? Click here.

Find Chapter One here- “When the FBI Comes Knocking.”

Find Chapter Two here- “Partners”

Find Chapter Three here- “Crash Course Undercover.”

Chapter 3 Logan’s POV – Bonus Scene

Blast From the Past- letter to logan

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Hope you enjoy-Jenn and Dani <3 (( @jlpplays1 + @justdani14 )) :*

~~~

Once we’re finally boarded, Evan directs me to our seat in first class. I raise an eyebrow at him making him chuckle and shrugs as if to say don’t worry about it. Once the plane takes off and most of the passengers turn in for night. I turn to Evan who is setting a brief cases in front of him.

“So you’re ok to split off from your partner to do this? Will Logan and Rebecca be ok?” I ask Evan curiously.

“Oh yea they’ll be fine. Believe me Bec can handle things at the home front for a few days. In fact she’d probably prefer it, to my meddling. And by meddling she means my need for relaxation every once in a while” He says laughing softly.

Turning back to me before whispering, “I know the whole Blake Sterling thing kind of derailed the briefing. So I brought some of the flies with me, in case you wanted to go through them. Logan mentioned your a planner so I thought it would help. If you want.”

I look at him surprised, “That would be great. Thank you Evan.”

“No problem and I’d like to add that Blake doesn’t seem involved. Not his father’s or brother’s shady business.” He says calmly.

“That actually does help.” I say breathing a sigh of relief.

I go over the four different flies as quietly and efficiently as possible. I need to find a way into there little “crew” and it couldn’t hurt to learn as much about them as possible in order to do it.

Graham Warren Sterling, kicked out of every boarding school in the country. Drug peddling were along the complaint but only got a slap on the wrist. Some how not only managed to get into Langston but is two years away from graduating. Has a full time position waiting for him at his father’s office. He’s been “working” part time already for the past few years to learn the family business. The architect firm has practically built the whole city. There’s been whispers of backroom deals, embedding, bribery to get anything from land, to shoddy buildings covered up. Some how a fire that killed a dozen people and injured countless more was deemed an accident. No one got any jail time.

Last year, before I started Langston Maxine Harper and Chloe Preston were the only two not implicated in a drug ring among their friends. Some how they had air tight alibi’s and no one else would talk. So they got off. Maxine goes to the sideshows a lot with Graham but doesn’t seem to race. She does seem to take business meetings with known drug dealers and runners. The only blemish in her wrap sheet is destruction of property, which she did a week of community service for before her mother took office. Now there either better at covering it up or she’s gotten smarter.

Chloe hasn’t gotten so much as a misdemeanor against her record. Which isn’t surprising as her uncle is the commissioner. She’s never seen without either Graham or Maxine though so if anyone knows something it’s her. Doesn’t participate at the side shows either just hangs around. She seems to be her uncle’s and friend’s weak link in their lives of crime.

Blake Sterling is a English literature assistant at Langston. Which i already knew. He doesn’t get along with his father or his business. Still sees his brother on a weekly basis and they seem very close. It’s unknown if he knows anything about his brothers extracurricular activities though.

“So that’s it huh? Get in with their kids and find dirt on the parents?” I say breathing deeply thinking of Blake.

“Yes. There’s a little more to it though. Those three, we want them too.” He says pointing at Blake’s brother Graham as well as two girls. Who I’ve just learned are named Maxine and Chloe. Those are our marks. I’ve seen Graham and Maxine briefly at sideshows. I’ve never spoken to them, nor did I know he was Blake’s brother. We don’t exactly run in the in the same circles.

“Right, and Blake?” I ask scared.

“Like I said he doesn’t seem to be involved.” Evan says smiling at me reassuringly.

Shoulders slumping I say, “Right, but if he is we have to bring him in.”

“Yes...but let’s cross that bridge when we get there.” He says patting my hand.

“Ok.. great.” I say feeling dejected.

“Hey, we’re going to figure this out.” He says smiling.

“Why don’t you distract me. Tell me about yourself.” I say with a small smile. Laughing quietly he says, “Alright what do you want to know?”

“Tell me about your family.” Curiosity shifting my thoughts from the case.

“Well it’s just my mom and me. Always has been. She’s wonderful, can’t get anything past that woman. Worked all her life as a nurse. Would come home after a long day and still help me with my homework.” He says smiling fondly at the memories.

“Is she the reason you went into law enforcement?” I ask smiling at his blissful expression.

“I suppose you could say that. She spent all day helping people and I wanted that in a different way.” Evan chuckles lightly, so not to wake our neighbors.

I chuckle too before asking, “So ex marshal to FBI, big change huh?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, “Yes and no. The law is still the law and I still get to help people.”

“True. Now tell me do you have a special lady or gentleman in your life?”

He busts out laughing before he can muffle it. As we get shushed we both start laughing even harder. Once we calmed down he answers, “Not at the moment no, I’m not opposed to it either. It’s hard in my line of work, finding someone who can handle it. It’s not easy, honestly I’m afraid it’s never going to happen.”

I see a little sadness in his eyes and I reach over to him laying my hand over his. “Evan Shipley, that is never going to happen. Have you seen you? I mean people must fall at your feet constantly. Tell me does it get annoying? Is it hard to walk around without stepping on people?”

“Well someone has to do I suppose.” He says his genuine smile back on his face as he shoves me with his shoulder lightly.

We continue our game for the rest of the flight. I forget about the case and everything else as I dive into the life of Evan Shipley. He tells me about some of his marshal cases, his old partner Samantha and his life in Texas. Once we land, we grab an Uber to our hotel and bid each other good night. Tomorrow the real work starts. If Colt’s here, I know three places he could be. I cross my fingers that Evan and Rebecca’s information on his whereabouts is correct. I need him, we need him.

The next morning I’m awoken at 430 am again. I find a sheepish Evan at my door waiting for me in running gear. I mutely shut the door and change into work out gear. I guess this is my life now.

“Sorry I know it’s early but Bec would kick my ass if we didn’t continue your training.” He says with a fond smile and chuckle.

“She seems like the type too. What’s her deal?” I say curiously as we reach the hotel exit and make our toward the beach.

“With Bec? She takes her job very seriously. We both do but she’s had a lot to prove. Men discount her for being a beautiful woman with an important job. She’s had to deal with it a lot and the best way she know how is to kick their ass.” He says seriously.

“So when you mean kick there ass, you mean both figuratively and metaphorical?” I say smiling finding a kinship with the red head.

“Most definitely! Bec is amazing, in everything she does.” He says smiling gently before clearing his throat staring at the path ahead.

I can’t practically see the cartoon hearts floating around him. I giggle loudly making him look back at me curiously. “It’s just you seem to think very highly of her.”

“Of course I do. She’s my partner, my family, one of my best friends.” He says smiling.

“Right of course. Let’s get this run out of the way.” I say still smiling. I’ve enjoyed getting to know Evan.

“Oh it’s not just a run today. We’re doing weight training too.” He adds laughing taking off in a full on sprint.

Not to be out done in a race. I book it and say, “ Alright cheater lets do this.”

After our run, which I lost much to my annoyance. True to his word, we return to the hotel gym and weight lift. Though the hotel is a little limited, we make do and get a pretty good workout in. By that time the hotel breakfast is open and we get heaping plates of food.

In between bites Evan asks me, “I’ve pretty much told you my whole life story. Don’t you think it’s time you tell me more about yourself?”

“Well, my mom died about ten years ago. It broke my Dad’s heart, it broke both of our hearts. He became more protective, he couldn’t lose anyone else. I don’t blame him, the choices I made were my own. When I met Logan I was looking for freedom and he gave me that. He gave me a thrill I couldn’t find any where else.” I lapse into quiet staring out the window and away from Evan.

“I’m so sorry Ellie.” He says quietly putting his hand over mine.”

I turn back at him giving him a tight smile before saying, “It was a long time ago.”

“I doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less.” He says with softened eyes.

I shrug adding, “It’s ok, let’s talk about something else.”

“Ok tell me about this sideshow we’re going to tonight?” He says shifting in his chair.

“Well it was mine and Logan’s first date sort to speak and I actually meet Colt there too. Too bad I don’t have my car, I could show you a real race.”

“Maybe not your car, but I have a car we can use.” Evan says smiling slyly.

“Are you serious! Oh my God lets go.” I say getting out of my chair.

“Isn’t it a little early for the sideshow?” He says chucking.

“Right...well let’s go get ready and start looking for Colt. Don’t dress like a cop either or no one will talk to us.” I say whispering the word cop, even though the dining room is practically empty.

“Don’t worry I won’t cramp your style.” He says full on laughing now, getting up to join me to our hotel rooms.

After a long shower, I take my time getting ready and picking out the perfect outfit. A white low V-neck tank, short cut off shorts, gold layered necklace and white chucks. I add Logan’s spark plug necklace and a bracelet Colt gave me too at the last second. Evan waits for me in the hallway in black boots, distressed jeans, black T-shirt and aviators.

“Subtle, very subtle.” I say laughing.

“Would you shut up I tried. Logan doesn’t wear shirts that say, I swear I’m not a cop.” He says bumping my shoulder.

“I’m messing with you, you look nice. Just relax your posture a little.” I say looking him over again. He really is very handsome, he looks more like a model then an FBI agent.

We walk to the hotel parking lot to the back. Where a white 2020 Ford GTO is parked making me stop in my tracks, mouth wide open. “How...how?” I mouth incoherently.

“FBI remember. Nothing but the best, I hope it’s up to your standards. I’m told it’s been modified for racing.” He says shrugging.

“Omg are you kidding me right?”

“No and that being said don’t crash it ok, it’s a loan.” He says laughing at my enthusiasm.

I hop in to the drivers seat and Evan hands me the keys before saying, “Show me what you got. Don’t get caught this time, we’re on a time crunch.”

I salute him before starting the car. Omg it’s perfect, there’s NOS installed too. I think I might cry tears of happiness. We make our way to the free way where I weave through traffic going fast and faster. I lose myself in it, I’m free again. We make it to MPC’s old garage and a flood of memories assault me. There isn’t anything here still. I was so sure Colt would try to rebuild it. I think of Kaneko and his sacrifice and I feel tears running down my face. Evan gives me space to look around and get myself together. After a while we walk to the car and drive to the next location. It’s one of Evans FBI leads, only to find nothing. We spend the rest of the day going to every location, only to come up with nothing. At sunset, I drive to the cliff Colt took me to but he’s not there either. There is only one place left to go, the sideshow. He has to be there he has to, I think to myself. Evan and I walk around for a while, things have changed though. Salazar and his goons are gone, even Vaughn is no where to be found. I can’t find anyone I recognize except for the promoter.

I make my way over to her before asking, “Any bike racing today?”

“Not yet maybe later. Do I know you? You seem familiar.” She says looking at me from head to toe.

“Former Mercy Park.” I say standing my ground.

“And him?” She says nodding at Evan.

“He’s with me. I’m looking for Kaneko’s son. Seen him around?”

She looks over at Evan again and me before nodding and saying, “He’s here all the time. You signing up for a race or not?”

“Yea. What’s the fee?” I ask her ready to go into my purse for my racing money.

“Ten grand. The next race is in 5 minutes.” She says smiling at me.

“Fine. Sign me up.” I hand her a wad of cash and walk away.

“You just bet ten grand.” Evan says with a low whistle.

“I didn’t bet it Evan. It’s an investment. Did you see those other cars? They don’t stand a chance. Plus we need to blend in to get more info.” I whisper to him as we walk back to the car, to bring it closer.

Before I know it, Evan and I are strapped in to the car at the starting line. I survey the other racers critically, going over in my head everything I’ve learned. I look at Evan sideways before saying, “It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone riding shot gun. Maybe it’s time I teach you something.” I say smiling at him confidently.

“Kick some ass Ellie. I’ve got your back.” He says chucking smiling confidently back at me.

The car feels like an extension of myself and I zone out. It’s just me and the car. No Evan, no FBI, no case nothing. I drift and use the NOS perfectly, just like I was taught. I was right, that race was a piece of cake. I walk away with 50 grand easy. Ten of which was already mine but still 40 grand win for one race is very good. I feel nervous carrying that much cash and I’m about to tell Evan we should head out and maybe come back. Then I hear him. Just like when I heard Logan’s voice a couple days ago a flood of emotions assault me.

“Well well well if it isn’t the one and only Ellie Wheeler. I hear you’ve been looking for me.” Colt says smirking, before opening his arms to me.

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kewltie · 5 years

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For a group of highly trained soldiers and specialists in their particular field, who have to deal with giant ass monsters destroying their city on a near weekly basis, Katsuki’s handlers all have various and insistent opinion on what shirt color would accentuate Katsuki’s eyes and where he should be taking Izuku on their date. They’re more invested in Katsuki’s date going well than even Katsuki’s parents and Katsuki’s parents had woke up early this morning just to try to catch him before he leaves so they can extract his date plans out of him and be the judge of it. Which, quite frankly, is annoying as fuck.

He already got twenty pair of eyes on him at all times and now they’re just shoving their unwanted opinions on him like they’re reliving their wasted youth all over again through him.

“This is a good time to compliment him!” Imada encourages through the hidden earpiece in his left stud earring. “Tell him he looks nice or that he smells good. You want to make a good impression on this date, so there will be more dates to come.”

“That can be kind of creepy, Imada,” Hashimoto says dryly, his voice popping in Katsuki’s ear. “No, instead you want to pay close attention to his body language and read his micro-expressions carefully, because sometimes people don’t say what they mean or say what they want at all! So it’s good to know when you’re unnerving him out without having to say anything at all.”

“Also, it would help greatly if you smile a little more, Katsuki. You scowl so much as it is that when I’d first met you I thought it was permanently stuck on your face. It makes you look like you were constipated all the damn time, too,” Kono chimes in, because apparently everyone else on this fucking frequency channel had been quietly listening into his date through the audio transmitter and decides at this moment to be an active contribution to it.

Damn noisy bastards. All of them, really.

If Izuku isn’t here, he would be cursing them out and tell them to get off this channel already. It’s only to be use for emergency and not a fucking love counseling session.

Katsuki doesn’t need their help. He’s going to ace this dumb date. Sweep Izuku right of his fucking feet, throw him right over his fucking shoulder, and carry him off into the sunset. There’s no way for him to fuck this up.

“Kacchan, look!” Izuku says, practically hoping in place as he points to a small building sandwiched between a bakery and a bookstore. “It’s a kaiju’s gift shop!” His eyes light up, excitement radiating out of him in waves. “Can we go in there and check it out?”

Apparently, he discounted Izuku and his ability to still have his hardon for rampaging monsters, poking its enormous head out even on a date. The itinerary list Katsuki had had spent three days creating it sits heavy and hot in his pants pocket, the weight of it is enough to scorch through his pants.

Yea, Katsuki is not the one who is going to fucking derail this entire date for giant ass monsters. Even though he is one himself.

Sometimes, Katsuki thinks soberly, humanity is not even worth saving.

The sign outside of the store says, “Love Monster,” with each of the letter O replaces by a heart and outside the storefront standing guard is a giant figure of Oryx, the worm kaiju, whom Katsuki’s mother had battle against numerous times before.

Katsuki’s left eye twitches. “No.”

“Please,” Izuku says, clasping his hands together in prayer. “Just for little bit, I want to look around. Ten minutes and we’ll leave!”

Out of the corner of his eyes, he spots two women hovering near a window display of the bookstore, their arm interweaved, and the blonde one turns around. A familiar faces meet him for a split second to give him an encouraging thumbs up before returning to her earlier position like she hasn’t cue Katsuki in and Katsuki considers homicide just a for a second.

Of fucking course, the CCTV surveillance and sound transmitter wasn’t enough, M.STR would have their people undercover to trail after Katsuki and Izuku’s date.

Katsuki rakes a hand through his hair in frustration and lets out a resigned sigh. “Fine,” he snaps. “Geek your heart out, nerd.”

Izuku lets out an excited squeal and that’s almost enough to mollified Katsuki’s over. He reaches out grab hold of Katsuki’s arm in his enthusiasm, but Katsuki’s eyes flare up and he steps aside just enough to slip pass Izuku’s touch.

Katsuki’s heart rams against his ribcage. It was too close.

Hurt flashes across Izuku’s face, but it’s gone too quickly for Katsuki to even feel bad about it.

“Let’s go in, then,” Izuku says, keeping the smile carefully plastered on his face.

Even Katsuki know he’d fucked up right there, the various snorts of disbelief and tired sighs in his left are unnecessary, but he can’t stay fix it now. Izuku speed-walks into the shop with Katsuki in toll behind him and as soon as they’re in Izuku breaks away to rush toward a Mythras stone statue, sitting behind a glass box.

The shop is filled to the brim, from cover to cover, with weird kaiju merchandises from stationary, beddings, clothes, figurines, plush animals, and so more that it make Katsuki’s head spin. Kaiju aren’t a popular commodity normally with how the majority of the species are set out to destroy the human race, but the younger generation like Izuku seems fond of them for some strange reason. They don’t look at kaiju with the same fear and hatred as their parents or their grandparents had anymore.

There are few other people mingling about—some kids and adults going over the display and a single shopkeeper keeping an eye on all of them—and Izuku frantically bounces between each fixture, eyes darting across each merchandise piece like he’s going to make a grab at them and haul them to the cashier to be rung up.

Katsuki stands awkwardly in the middle of shop, feeling out of sort as he’s not part of the target audience nor has any particular interest in the subject matter. It’s hard to be interest when Katsuki is the subject in the first place as everyone in the shop coos and hollers at faces that Katsuki had either fought against or with before.

“Kacchan!” Izuku suddeny rushes back toward him. “It’s Mittan,” he says elatedly, holding up a cap with five large black and red horns protruding out of the top. The original Defender of the Humanity, the Queen of the Monsters, The Blood Traitor, the Oathkeeper, and coincidently, also, Katsuki’s mother; she is Mi’tawuatski, or Mittan as her legion of devoted fans fondly called her.

His mother’s iconic horns are more than the size of a grown man. Even the smallest ones are taller than Izuku. They’re enormous, grand, beautifully curved bones with a pointed end, and are a source of proud for his family.

This dumb cheaply made version of it, with it weird discoloration and plastic material, is so offensive that Katsuki wants to rip it out of Izuku’s hand and throw it in the trash, but Izuku pulls the cap over his head and smiles bashfully at him, eyes bright and grin infectious.

“What do you think?” Izuku asks, shinning with the full force of the sun and Katsuki can’t even bare to look at him.

“Ugly,” Katsuki retorts with an eye roll, his races wildly in his chest like it wants to crawl out of there and throw itself at Izuku. “You’re not a kid anymore. Take it off.”

“You idiot,” Kono hisses, making her presence known once again in his ear.

Izuku’s lips stretches out in a sulky pout and it’s almost enough to hide the dark cloud behind his eyes. “Oh alright,” he says, deflating. He leaves Katsuki’s side once more, distracted by something else in the shop's corner.

Katsuki lets out a sigh of relief. Just a few more second of it and Katsuki would have blown this entire gift shop apart.

“Katsuki,” Commander Tamaki says into his ear, “are you alright? We noticed your heartrate had just sped up to 387BMP.” A beat. “Most people would be dead by now. Should I send out an extraction team for you?”

Katsuki watches from a distance as Izuku peers at a pile of stuffed kaiju plushs, his green eyes lighting up in childlike wonder and he smiles at it. It’s bright, earnest, and so fucking cute. It physically hurts to even look at him.

“If you or any of your jarheads storm in and ruin my date right now, the next time there’s another kaiju attack I’ll let it roast all your fucking asses and make Tokyo its playground,” Katsuki says, low and menacingly into the mic hidden in the collar of his shirt.

A long heavy pause passes between them. “Copy,” he answers finally. “We’ll keep on closely monitoring you just in case then.”

Katsuki clicks his tongue in annoyance, making his disapproval known but doesn’t argue. The fact that they had even agreed to him going on a date Izuku was a surprise in itself, not that their refusal would have change Katsuki’s gameplan anyway, was miracle despite for years they had been insisting Katsuki wasn’t ready for real world interaction with other humans outside of the M.STR organization.

“Bakushinchi!” Izuku practically screams across the room.

“Ugh,” Katsuki says, rubbing his ears.

Izuku rushes back to him with something huge and black in his arms. “Kacchan! Kacchan! They got a Bakushinchi’s plushy!” he says, nearly barreling him right over in his excitement. “And he’s huge! Well,” Izuku cocks his head to take enormous plush that nearly half the size of him, “not as huge as the real thing but look,” he presses his face into its plush belly and squeezes, “he’s so soft and squishy.” Izuku sighs warmly into it. “I want him on my bed.”

Katsuki chokes.

“Oh my god,” Sakurai says, sounding hysterical through the earpiece, “does that kid know he’s a total tease?!”

Katsuki stares the large and deformed version of himself—red eyes, two small soft horns, its glittery body, and a pair of tiny black wings that look nothing like his majestic own— held in Izuku’s arms like it’s the most precious thing ever and he wants to punch something. Destroy. Kill. Mostly himself. Or the plush version of his other self.

He can’t even get close to Izuku without reaching human level of a heart attack and every time Izuku even fucking smile at him Katsuki wants to slam him against the wall and claims him.

Katsuki’s teeth throbs, he can feel it’s growing with the blood-thirst humming underneath his skin. His other want break out of his frail human shell and takes Izuku in front of everyone, paints the wall with the flood of their audience and bathe Izuku in his conquest.

It’s terrifying. He has never been more out of control. More monster than human than when he’s with Izuku.

Katsuki violently shoves Izuku away and Izuku crashes to the floor with a yelp of surprise.

The beast in him is crawling out into the surface; he can hear the bones in his right arm cracking through his human skin, black scales peeking through under it and Katsuki quickly tucks it behind him. But the commotion he had caused is attracting an audience among the shop attendance and some guy reaches down to help Izuku up from the floor

“Don’t touch him!” Katsuki yells, growling with so much force that the place nearly shakes from it.

The man’s eyes widen with unadulterated fear and he quickly drops Izuku’s hand, but Izuku doesn’t seem concern at all as worry lines his features and he tries to take a step forward.

Katsuki backs away, he can’t stop the bloodlust anymore. He wants to trip into the man for touching Izuku, wants to pull out his entrails and paint the wall with it. He wants. He wants—

“Katsuki!” Commander Tamaki cuts in, sounding extremely remorseful. “Sorry to interrupt your date again, but there’s a Type-O Class Nova Kaiju that just appeared in Ward C and we need you.”

Katsuki grins now, the taste of an upcoming battle and blood of his enemy wetting his hunger for more. This is enough to quell his appetite for Izuku. This is something he can handle. This is something he can fight. “I—I got to go,” he says to Izuku, swiveling around and heads right of out of the door without any further explanation.

“Kacchan, wait!” Izuku’s screams follows him with every step, but Katsuki pushes forward and runs out into the street where a black undisclosed van is waiting or him.

It’s not like he’s running away. It’s just that—did Deku have to be so fucking cute?! Katsuki can fight kaiju that are as ancient as the earth and pull a victory out of nothing, but give him this helpless ordinary human boy and he’s just undone.

#bakudeku #fic snippet #fic: doki doki

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general-loki · 5 years

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Premonition in Decaf Ch2

Title: Premonition in Decaf

Chapter 2: Perfect Shot

Series: Persona 5

Ship: Akira(Joker)/Akechi

Rating: T

Warnings: No direct spoilers, but things are alluded to. Takes place Mid Palace 6. Was once a one-shot. Vague flirting and phantom thief/rival detective vibes.

Summary: The Phantom Thieves continue their trek into the Palace with Crow--awkwardness and all after Ryuji gave everyone the wrong idea about an innocent diner outing. It falls on Joker to keep things in order and keep the team together. Even if they were all going to grill him endlessly about keeping company with the detective the second he was out of sight.

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The fallout was swift, unforgiving.

Ryuji had clearly meant to send the message privately to Akira, but it was a death sentence that the Phantom Thieves Exclusive Chat* (*No Crow Allowed) group took to repeatedly guillotining their leader with. Akira actually couldn’t keep up with the rate messages flooded in at--everyone typing at once into messages that essentially distilled down to “What” and “Why.”

After trying and failing to find a good way to butt in Akira just let the messages go for a minute or two until everyone had it out of their system enough to actually get a word in and not have it lost in the multi-message spam flow. Ryuji had, in the meantime, only made matters worse.

“I only saw them alone at the diner! I mean Akechi ran out of there totally red in the face. Assumed you know??”

“Akira’s always taking people out but he had THAT LOOK.”

“The LOOK.”

At that point even Akira didn’t know what the hell Ryuji was on about, but he was doing a fine job of misleading everyone. Still, Akechi was that worked up? He assumed it was probably that the detective was pissed and unable to hold it back anymore now that Akira got under his skin. Ryuji was sort of an idiot at matters of anyone’s heart. Of course he’d misread it. Probably.

Meanwhile, his comrades were trying to understand what the hell “The Look” was and arguing about that. Ryuji settled for expanding his description to “that look on his face when he’s serious and sees right into your soul” however that did little to ease everyone’s worries. Futaba claimed he’d probably just hit a Flag with Akechi by mistake and he could avoid the Bad End still and that made matters worse.

Akira sunk into his seat and sighed, running a hand through his hair. None of them had stopped long enough to even ask him what actually happened yet--the conversation derailed as it always seemed to. He had to probably straighten it out sooner than later.

“Do I really take people out that much?” Akira messaged after not saying anything at all.

“Yea”

“You do a LOT.”

“How do you even afford that?”

“Buy me ramen next time.”

By then Ryuji probably had already fled the scene, but Akira couldn’t help but look after he paid and went on his way. He looked up and down the city streets still busy with foot traffic for that familiar form, but didn’t immediately spot him. He pushed his glasses up on his nose and went back to the messages still going off on his phone. He missed a tangent from the group about all of them planning to have him buy them ramen at some point very soon. Ann remembered to disinvite Akechi (the jerk) and the conversation circled back to the start.

“I only spent some time with Akechi just like I do with any of you. I wanted to see how he would react.”

Akira’s answer only stalled the mess of messages briefly before it all came to new questions. They were fair ones though. None of the Phantom Thieves wanted anything to do with Akechi more than they were already forced to deal with. From a distance he seemed like a normal enough person, maybe even pleasant, but prolonged contact was like a slow boil. That fake niceness oozed a rankness every Phantom Thief had sussed out on their own and each took the liberty of sharing now that the time had come. Maybe they needed a session of complaining to help get it out of their systems for later so Akira let it go, sitting back and at least learning about the gut feelings of his comrades. By his own admission, they were probably right. He too sensed something deeply off about Akechi.

But that was the point of hanging around him. Akechi wasn’t going to unravel in battle, he wasn’t going to from debate, but he might if Akira could find his buttons mash all of them.

“I don’t know if he can be won over, but I won’t know what’s going on with Akechi if I don’t try.”

Answers to this were mixed. It probably looked and felt like a hopeless cause, even Akira didn’t believe in it. But telling them he wanted to mess with the guy and figure out what was going on his head probably wouldn’t sell any better. Finally Yusuke, who had been somewhat quiet, sent a rather affirming message.

“If you feel safe in this endeavor and think it may help us to any degree, I trust how you might use your time.”

He had wondered if Yusuke had felt something off in the same way Akira had. He was at times sensitive and at others living on a completely different planet. But when Yusuke was right often it was doubly so.

Akira continued on his path home while watching the conversation between his comrades, each a bit more turned to the idea after Yusuke’s answer. Perhaps that was clear enough to the point to work for all of them. It was Akira’s time to use--however heavy that felt to think about. The Phantom Thieves counted on him to support them and lead with some degree of certainty. The bonds he made gave them all strength in one way or another--either in trust built or with supporters outside. Putting it into words eluded him, but Akira did know these connections mattered.

But would a connection with Akechi actually matter?

The detective himself seemed unconvinced with the way the group functioned or what the Phantom Thieves even stood for. For Akechi it was a puzzle to pick apart. A Thing of Interest, not a group of friends with goals in their hearts and the means to reach them.

Or at least, maybe that was it.

Akechi seemed plenty thrilled to take part in this mission. Thrilled to be in combat. Thrilled to be a temporary Phantom.

What did he get out of this exactly? The deal waited for him at the end, but until then, what was this?

Akira leaned heavily into his seat on the train, eyes starting the glaze over the screen in his hand as his friends’ chatting started to slow. They were all people with things to do, their time to spend. If Ryuji ran off on a date everyone would surely mock him for it (it was impossible anyway) but that was his time to spend. Did it matter so much if Akira were on a date? Or was really all about Akechi? The group’s complaining told him Akechi, but between the lines he was sure his friends were well invested in whether or not he was dating and who. He hadn’t exactly been one to be free with that kind of information--that probably fueled it.

The stroll from the station back home back him a little more time to sort it out but not much. He didn’t much want to face the Boss with a tired look so he picked a vending machine on the way and hung around it, like he meant to pick something to drink. Rather than linger on all this it would be easier to focus on what needed doing. They were returning to the Palace tomorrow after all. He could spend a little time making tools or probably, more likely, just fall asleep. Keeping clear headed was going to be the only thing that would help them get through a Palace so loud and dangerous at the same time. Sleep would help probably.

Akira fed the vending machine and punched in a button without thinking about it too much. A can rattled to the bottom and he picked up, at least satisfied he’d gotten something decaf. Getting all rattled up on top of all this wasn’t going to help.

One slow breath in and back out.

He cracked open the can and carried on home, sipping and watching the neighborhood through streetlights. A level of his responsibilities he took in stride--it worked out and he kept calm under pressure and always had. They, his friends and now comrades, needed that energy when things got hot--as they always did in a palace. He absolutely had to overthink Akechi just because of the element he was, but not so much he put the others ill at ease.

“If you feel safe,” Yusuke had said. He didn’t feel all that safe, for various reasons, namely because however this was going to play out at the end didn’t look good. The ugliness of that should have put him down, but instead it just harden his resolve. There was a way out of this and to put Akechi on the ropes too. Akira gripped and crushed the middle of the now empty can in his hand before chucking it in a bin.

Okay.

To whatever end this reached, he was going to give it a shot. The Phantom Thieves didn’t get anywhere being weak-hearted after all. Steeled and ready, he fixed his posture by the time he opened the door to Leblanc, giving Sojiro the usual greeting and carrying on his way. He had time to set up a couple things still…

***

Joker would have described the mood in the Palace the next day as “weird.” Everyone was there and working hard, but he felt all eyes on him more than usual. Maybe he was just paying it more mind than usual. This was his job here after all--he took point and made way through the casino maze backrooms again. That pressure of course on top of the mood exuding from Crow as he took to staying close near or behind Joker the whole time. He was obnoxiously chatty as usual--to the point it was probably too much for him. It made Joker wonder if he were covering for the day before because he was embarrassed or still angry.

He couldn’t exactly rule anything out.

A room they needed to break into lead them into combat in close quarters, some of the group out in the hall holding off any support called as Joker and anyone else in the lead took out those in the backroom. Fox sliced through an enemy who had broken out behind another Joker just finished--his katana ripping through and enacting the first and final blow together. With that enemy down the room was cleared, but the hall was another issue. It was quiet but not enough. Crow lowered his blade first, starting to look over the room with some interest. Fox sheathed his blade but looked out toward the open door, swinging loose from the way Joker had kicked it open a little too hard. Panther took a few steps that way, clearly holding her breath. The others weren’t calling out the clear like they usually did, but further down the hall it sounded like combat might have been happening.

“How far did they go?” Panther said, starting to go out, but swinging back inside suddenly, her eyes wide. “Joker,” she whispered urgently.

Joker understood the cue, but from his position Crow was directly in the way. He could deal with the consequences later. “Move,” was all he said to the outsider to the group at his side. The detective stood back up to face him only to find Joker’s arm stretched out horizontal to the end of his mask until the recoil from Joker’s shot made that uneven. However, Joker’s shot hit the mark exactly--taking out a guard enemy patrolling but one that had not yet made a call for further back up. Panther checked around the corner again and took off for their allies clearly at the opposite end of the hall their visitor had come from. Fox follows shortly after, leaving Crow at Joker’s side, his eyes wide and confused.

“You almost shot me,” the detective got out somehow, like his tongue twisted in a knot.

“I said move,” Joke said dismissively as he ran after his comrades, no mind for the dumbfounded Crow left in the room alone. Crow hesitated a moment before grabbing the treasure he’d spotted and chasing after.

Further down the hall Skull and Noir were cracking heads to hold off a slew of enemies that had come seemingly out of nowhere. The two traded places, covering one another as enemies fell into shadows at their strikes. Queen and Mona were on support from behind--another layer of cover less necessary as Fox and Panther moved in to weed out the rest. The worst of the combat seemed over as Joker made it to the scene.

Queen stood more at ease as the hall was cleared, turning to Joker to report. “Sorry about that. More than we expected kept coming out, we didn’t want to get pinned in by any fire,” she explained with a slight smile. Crow made it last behind Joker, her smile clearly falling.

“As long as everyone’s alright,” Joker said, keeping it short.

Mona gave him two paws up. “No problems! But this place is more of a maze than I thought it’d be coming in. It feels like we’re making very slow progress,” he noted now that he had everyone’s attention anyway.

Oracle adjusted her goggles and had a look out. “We are making our way through, but I’ll agree it’s slow moving. There are a lot of enemies and the corridors loop so tight sometimes it’s hard to be sure if they’re in this hallway or the one just wrapping outside it.”

The group fell silent as they thought on it--quiet enough the ringing of the casino main floor could be heard echoing through the back halls. Joker raised his head first.

“We’re close to making a good dent in this section. A bit further before we wear ourselves out,” he said decisively. “We’ll call it a day there.”

“You got it, Joker. Lemme join you on the front,” Skull answered with a sure grin. He strode right up to Fox, putting up one hand like he intended to give him a high five. Confused, but still able to manage comradery, Fox clapped his hand with Skull’s.

“Tagged out. See ya,” Skull laughed, stepping up to Joker’s side opposite of where Crow was not--who had still not seemed to come out of his stupor.

Fox looked to his own hand like it had betrayed him. “I wasn’t ready…” he said defeatedly,

“You’re really giving it your all today, Fox. You’re pushing yourself,” Queen said as she gave him a short look over. “Even if you’re motivated you can’t do it all alone.”

“Wanting to look cool today, Inari?” Oracle teased and snickered.

Fox stood up a bit straighter--too straight with just how tall he was. There’s a certain glow to his face, like he was at peace with himself and his efforts. “I keep thinking of the ramen our leader will soon be taking us to. I can’t help but feel already energized dreaming of a full bowl of warm, salty broth and noodles. Perhaps with an egg…”

“This is about food again?” Queen sputtered, somehow still surprised with Fox’s behavior after this long.

“When isn’t it?” Panther said with a sigh.

“When it’s about artsy stuff,” Oracle filled in, no hesitation.

“Oh yeaaaaah,” Skull blurted suddenly, like the thought hit him on the head. “You DO owe us ramen,” he said Joker’s way accusingly.

“I do?”

“You do!” Skull insisted, waving his weapon in a somewhat dangerous manner to emphasize his point.

Crow finally snapped out of his thoughts, tilting his head. “You treat them all to ramen too?”

Panther nearly jolted when Crow snapped out of it. She made a threatening gesture Skull’s way, whispering harshly for him to shut up. The two bickered for a moment.

“Something like that, apparently,” Joker answered with a more casual tone. Hopefully that would stave off any questions and keep his nose out of this group outing for the time being.

“I can’t remember the last time I had ramen,” Crow commented, like it were an opening for Joker to invite him. The pair exchanged looks but neither budged.

Oracle fiddled with her screen views for a while doing a search, no one else brave enough to say anything or move while the other two kept up their tense standoff. Eventually she spoke up. “You blogged about ramen like two weeks ago. If you can’t remember two weeks ago how are you a detective?”

Crow took a step back in shock, like her words shot him directly in the gut. He groped at the air for a second, mouth open but no words yet.

Noir peeked at Oracle’s view, leaning in to have a look. “Oh I’ve heard the girls in class talking about that place. Is it really so good?”

“Fancy fancy, trendy trendy,” Oracle added in a sing-song voice. “What kind of ramen place goes for a ‘modern’ look and spin? People line up for that?”

“Oh out the doors. I heard you could get in line at lunch and not get in until dinner service,” Noir replied still not believing it herself based on her tone.

Everyone looked at Crow for the answer since clearly none of the thieves could believe it. The full group’s attention did him in and by force he had to say something--anything at all at that point.

“It wasn’t that long of a line...a couple hours,” Crow admitted finally, slumping slightly.

“A couple hours?!” a handful of the thieves chimed in at once in shock.

Crow cleared his throat and attempted to throw himself back together. “That’s typical of a new opening. And waiting has never bothered me when there’s something interesting at the end of it.”

“I never would have guessed you were a trend-chaser,” Panther said somewhat bluntly after it was clear no one was relating.

“Not precisely…” Crow started, looking a touch flustered. Perhaps he wasn’t used to being so teased.

Joker turned his attention down the hall, plenty ready to be done with this conversation. “We should keep moving. Stick to the plan,” he said with some finality. The call sat well with the crew and Crow too as they all took up more ready stances and their usual positions to move on.

***

The group parted once they reached deeply enough, everyone saying goodbyes as they split ways down their trips home, or whatever might have been next for them. Akira intended to head back to Leblanc and relax for awhile before bed. He felt something off about his path home, even as his mind wandered a little. Even before starting Phantom Thief business, he’d gotten more sensitive to his surroundings, but letting that on would only put him in trouble. Best to play it cool and see how it went. If it was who he figured it was, he could deal with being tailed.

By the time he reached Leblanc, Sojiro was looking ready to be gone. Probably another slow day. He greeted him casually, getting the usual about locking up when he was ready as the Boss took off now that he had the chance. Akira watched after the door as it closed. He set his bag down at one of the tables, Morgana worming his way out and stretching.

“He was really on your back half that trip, huh?” Morgana mused, watching the door too.

“Yeah, you saw him?”

“Yup. Not very low key,” Morgana laughed, but soon took a more serious tone. “If he’s up to anything…”

“I can deal with it. We’ll make sure every entry is locked. I’ll block the window if need be,” Akira answered casually. They’d already agreed on a plan in case of an emergency. Being stalked was probably an emergency…

Akira took a few strides to one of the counter seats, sitting down like he might usually. Either their guest would come in soon or they were going to have to go with that emergency plan. He didn’t think he would actually make any moves. He still needed the Phantom Thieves for what he wanted after all. They would be in trouble without Joker, probably. Akira had faith Makoto would be able to keep them together, but not sure what shape they would be in. It would be too difficult for even one of them to drop off.

No, not dropping off. Too simple. Didn’t express the risk or that pounding in his chest.

Morgana’s ears perked up, blue eyes fixed on the door. Joker kept his gaze on the counter but his shoulders tight. It wasn’t more than a few minutes since Sojiro left. Couldn’t wait could he?

At the ring of the door bell Akira finally let himself gaze directly at the one who had tailed him so far. With the same sort of disarming smile as usual, Goro Akechi gave his typical greeting.

“Good evening. Is now a bad time?” he said casually as he might. He carried his case at his side, his tie fixed just as neatly at his throat, everything as typical as possible with him.

Except that he was here well after hours.

“Not exactly,” Akira answered as vaguely as he could.

Akechi smiled on and stepped up to the stool next to Akira, not yet taking it for himself. “I suppose it’s a little late for Leblanc to open and still serve anything, isn’t it?” Akechi mused.

Akira looked over the clear kitchen space--Sojiro apparently really packed it up early. He fished his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. “I guess the kitchen’s closed.”

“It’d be unreasonable to assume, wouldn’t it?”

And yet you’re here looking for service? Akira wanted to say, but he sealed his lips long enough to stave the inclination. Against his better judgement he sighed and stood back up. Akechi stared unblinkingly in shock at first, like he was ready for this to escalate to him being physically booted out.

Akira started for his bag, opening it up for Morgana to jump back into. He got the signal and hopped back in as Akira shouldered it. “You’re hungry, right?” Akira said the detective’s way.

“I guess that I am, but what are you…” He didn’t finish as Akira passed him heading for the door.

“Let’s grab something quick then,” Akira said, holding the door open. Akechi was left staring again, but soon hurried after him so Akira could shut the door and lock it.

“Are you inviting me to dinner?” Akechi asked once they were both outside, his expression hard to read in the low light, but his tone pretty bewildered.

“Sort of? Don’t get too excited.” Akira charged ahead, making way outside the usual part of the neighborhood. Akechi quickly joined at his side, too perplexed and clearly flustered now that he’d lost control of this encounter so soon.

“At this hour? You’d really do that?”

“You expected me to feed you, right?”

That answer made the detective slow his pace, one hand over his forehead. “Is that what this looks like?”

Akira shrugged and waited up for him to rejoin. “You walked in and asked me about making something. The kitchen is already all cleaned up. We might as well.”

Akechi seemed to accept that answer slightly better, walking at Akira’s side less stiffly now. “Then this is your neighborhood to guide me through. You’ll have to show me what’s good.”

Akira gave him a wry smile, too amused. What did he think he was getting? A 5 star meal in the middle of the night? Not likely. Akira kept a decent money supply running, but he wasn’t that good. He still owed everyone ramen (apparently). “You’ll get the best I’ve got right now.”

There’s a big “ooooh” of awe from his bag on his shoulder, Morgana poking his head out. “I want sushi if we’re getting something good.”

“Alright, sushi it is,” Akira agreed with a short laugh. There’s a whoop-like meow of joy from the bag as Morgana ducked back inside, half-singing about his sushi dreams. At least someone would be happy at the end of this. Maybe.

“Sushi? For me too?” Akechi asked in disbelief.

“Sure. If that’s what you want.”

Akechi seemed to have just a bit more of a spring in his step too, a smile back on his face. A face that Akira would note looked very slightly pink. Once the encounter was on Akira’s path, Akechi got worked up pretty easily. He was at least not that instant tv-personality Akechi at the moment. He thought briefly about the very depressed Akechi he’d met in Leblanc that one day before decidedly putting that Akechi out of his mind. He had this one to contend with for now.

There was a little chatter on the way, but hardly too much. It wasn’t like it was a far trip. Akira eventually came to a stop in front of the yellow-bright lights of the convenience store, his hands still in his pockets as he turned back to glance at Akechi.

“Dinner’s on, dear. You just take what you like,” he said through a grin he had to tamp down very carefully. If he looked too obviously like he was just messing with Akechi, he was bound to lose this whole game. But the work seemed to pay off as all the detective could do was gape for a solid minute. He fumbled with his briefcase, especially as he laughed awkwardly.

“Right, of course. I guess I shouldn’t expect another student to be able to afford late night sushi much more than this,” Akechi said like he could catch himself on such a flimsy reply. It was hard to see with Akechi’s face mostly backlit by the store lights, but he looked a touch pink in all that flustering mess. It was ordinary. Akira wondered if Akechi’s fanclub was into that sort of ordinary look--nothing cool or collected here--just a typical human caught in that sort of dance that came early flirting.

Akira pinned himself in that thought. He cursed that it formulated that way in his head and veered back toward the doors, not yet stepping close enough to cause them to open. “You can really get whatever you want. I can afford that much,” he said with some finality before leading the way in. Akechi followed behind some short strides, but soon caught up. He didn’t seem to have the guts to simply follow Akira down the aisle, appearing distracted or considering other things before eventually meeting up to look at the remaining selection.

Morgana peeped out of the bag and tapped one paw on Akira’s shoulder incessantly. “Get me the good stuff. I want a whole box for me. Get me a whole one,” he whispered, papping paw pads down at each word.

“Hush. You’re getting a box your own, fine,” Akira relented in a low whisper back, if only to make him stop so they wouldn’t get in trouble for bringing animals into the store.

Akechi watched the exchange with wide eyes, eventually cracking a small laugh behind his hand. “Dinner and a comedy routine. Maybe I’m being spoiled after all.”

It came as a surprise that Akechi would bounce back, but perhaps he’d had just long enough now to pull himself together. Something remained of his earlier look; something relaxed and typical about him. Pleasant. Nothing lingering of that plastic smile he did for TV. Who was this Akechi exactly?

Akira snapped out of his thoughts to give the detective a wry smile. “Normally we’d charge, but it’s on the house tonight.” With that he picked up his selections and carried on to the register, Akechi close at his heel. Everything paid for, the pair walked back outside. Crisp night air filled his lungs and again Akira had his head on his shoulders.

There was a weird feeling in the air. Like he was somehow walking home backwards, no matter how much it was like it was any other day. For some reason Akechi was still walking at his side. He had a feeling neither of them knew how this evening was going to end, but neither would back down first. To wrench himself out of his own head, Akira took a harder turn without much explanation, carrying on a few more blocks before an empty park came into view. This late no kids were running on any of the playground equipment so it took on that eerie vibe every empty park had at night. Not wrong exactly, but not right either.

He brushed a couple leaves off the bench at the park’s side and took a seat. Here he started up the juggle of putting containers down, getting the bag off and helping Morgana out so he could sit and eat with them. It wasn’t until he cracked the container open and put it in reach of one very pleased cat that Akechi caught on or gave up and actually joined them at the other side of the bench. This sandwiched Akira in the middle--not that he minded too much. Morgana was going to be busy chowing down for a little while anyway.

At first no one said anything. The air filled with characteristic cat chomping noises and eventually the cry of an ambulance siren in another part of the neighborhood. Akira cracked into his food first, deciding not to pay Akechi too much mind. That movement seemed to snap Akechi out of his thoughts and soon the three of them were eating away. It wasn’t fancy restaurant sushi, but maybe it would scratch the itch. They at least cleaned it up pretty quick.

Akira glanced over Akechi’s way and spied an odd look on his face. He couldn’t call it sad, but somehow melancholy through his slight smile. Akechi’s hands remained grasped around the container for his food, his gaze down on what remained of his dinner.

“Are all your days like this?” he asked like he’d been stewing on this question for quite some time.

Akira mulled it over, his gaze naturally turning up to the starry sky. “Like what? Palaces and convenience store dinners?”

Akechi shook his head a couple times. “Not precisely that. More the sort of pace you take things at. You’re quite serious when you’re at work, but out here you’re almost…” He trailed off and never finished.

With a sigh Akira rested back on the bench, both arms resting along atop the backrest. “I’m almost normal. I’m not anyone special, Akechi,” he answered for him, taking a swing at it. He wasn’t exactly special--and maybe Akechi wasn’t either. He could have preferred it that way really.

“I don’t suppose the Phantom Thieves would have come so far if they didn’t have someone so unassuming at their helm. And yet, I can hardly bring myself to call you normal. You do something when you don your mark. What that is I haven’t worked out yet. It’s more than mere leadership,” Akechi said with clarity as his hands loosened around the tray in his lap so it rested there. His eyes hardly left the light container like it held his jumble of questions together in order for him to shuffle through.

“I probably have an answer for you, but you won’t like it,” Akira admitted vaguely as he might.

“Why wouldn’t I like it? What sort of detective doesn’t like to get to the bottom of things?” Akechi countered quickly.

Wide open!

Akira half shrugged, still resting back. “Then get to the bottom of it, detective. You figure out what it is I’m doing that’s so special. We still have a way to go in this Palace. You have time,” he replied with an almost flippant tone.

There was a loud crinkle as Akechi’s hands clenched around the empty container. His tight shoulders loosened in a few seconds as he laughed dryly. “It’s like that isn’t it…? I suppose I set myself up for as much.” He straightened up and cleared this throat, this time looking directly at Akira.

“Then I’ll unravel your mystery, Akira Kurusu. And once I do, you’ll have no choice but to share all the finer details of your power with me.”

The earnestness of it caught Akira off-guard. It felt like a rival’s declaration, like in some kind of sports manga or something. Like he was going to take him out in the next game or something. Had they maneuvered into that space so suddenly? Still, there was something about Akechi’s intensity that had his attention. He meant every word. The least he could do was meet that energy properly. He grinned crookedly back at him.

“Sure. If you can get to the bottom of it, I’m an open book,” Akira answered. He tilted his head up a little, if only to try and egg him on. “To give you a hint, I don’t need the mask to do it.”

Akechi seemed flustered very slightly. “It was a figure of speech… Clearly you’re doing your work off the battlefield as well to have amassed so many supporters and comrades.”

Perhaps that would put him on the right track. But Akira was one to spoil the mood and this put him in a good spot to bring up part of what was pestering his own mind. He set his empty container aside and sat up properly again. “That reminds me. On the battlefield. Are you getting a better idea of how to take my lead yet?”

“That teamwork business again,” Akechi muttered at first. “Somewhat… But today confused me. I couldn’t believe you were the one to take the shot on that shadow outside the door.”

At least the encounter had made an impression on Akechi--at least that was the feeling Akira had. “Panther trusts my aim. She would rather I took the shot so she could take the best move for her position,” Akira said firmly, his look a serious one.

“I’m sure she could have been careful enough to take out that enemy herself.”

“She could. But it gave her and Fox an extra moment to run ahead and find everyone else. They were closer to the door.”

Akechi’s eyes narrowed on Akira--trying to see something he wasn’t finding. “It was only a matter of seconds. And there was still a chance you might have missed as well.”

He seized this chance. Right index and middle fingers pointed forward, Akira playfully pressed his “gun” to Akechi’s chest. “I don’t miss any shots, dear detective. I would have thought you’d notice by now.”

Akechi’s face burned in full--his expression a mess to read. There was some frustration going a rolling boil in his blood, but clearly the audacity of the touch and the playfulness of its delivery sent Akechi tumbling through more confusing emotions. It was like no one had properly messed with him like this. Like nobody else could bend and warp his plastic persona to anything this malleable. Somewhere in his eyes Akira could read this feeling like “how dare you” and yet all he could do was receive it with affection. How dare he indeed.

Akechi could completely undo the Phantom Thieves at his whim, but they weren’t going to be the ones unraveled here. Akira could get him first--he felt it now--especially with that confused look still on Akechi’s face. Neither removed his gaze from the either--now at the height of this game they were doomed to remain until one relented.

“This...is your way...of doing things, isn’t it?” Akechi got out eventually, glancing aside only when it felt safe.

The Phantom Thief only shrugged and settled back a moment to trade a look with Morgana. The feline looked interested, but held off his comments for now. He’d finished off his treat--now content to take it easy.

“You just don’t know me very well yet,” Akira decided.

“I suppose I’ve been studying the leader of the Phantom Thieves...but not who he is beyond that. Besides demographics and modus operandi for these cases; however this seems to be fairly different from the genuine article. I guess I never considered I’d end up treated to meals and just hanging around the arcade with someone like that,” Akechi said more honestly himself.

“And you did it anyway.”

“So I have. I don’t like not knowing the rest. There’s something fundamental I’m missing. I can see that now,” Akechi went on as he piled his empty container on top of Akira’s in between them. “As part of my investigation and for personal reasons, I hope we can keep meeting like this. Shall I call ahead next time?”

“Just shoot a text. I’ll let you know if I’m occupied. But if I’m free, I’ll be sure you hear first,” Akira said casually.

Akechi gave him one of his more usual smiles and stood up. “If I’m not due for anything else, I’ll simply have to take you up on your offer. Whatever it might be.” That said, he picks up their trash, even collecting Morgana’s and tossing it all into a nearby bin. When he returned he lifted his briefcase, looking ready to carry on like he usually did.

Akira gave him an up and down look before standing himself. As he helped get Morgana situated, Akechi went on. “Perhaps after a few meetings like this I’ll be faster on the draw to your plans. I’d rather not get my nose shot off,” he said just a bit jokingly.

Unable to help himself, Akira made another fingergun motion Akechi’s way and winked. “I don’t miss, remember?”

The combo pierced the detective’s brief moment of recovery. He took a single step back like he’d actually been shot. “I’d thought nothing of it! It would make sense to shoot well is all.”

“Like not missing.”

Akechi let out a small sigh in frustration. “Yes, I get it. I’m overthinking it. Let me take my failure with me on the road and to bed now, if you’ll free me of it.”

Akira seemed to consider that a moment before grinning again. “I’ll let you go. Don’t need someone to walk you to the station, do you?”

“I can handle that just fine.”

“If you get lost or scared on the way, you just send me a message. Or call if you have to be that kind of old man.”

This only seemed to work Akechi up more, enough that he had to turn away, his grasp tight on his bag’s handle. “And so you go on. I get the picture, I’ll be on my way before you subject me to much more of this.”

“Not so good with a little ribbing, are you?” Akira replied with an amused tone. He hoisted the back with Morgana in it back on his shoulder and stood about two strides from Akechi.

“You’re relentless. I didn’t expect that is all.”

He probably didn’t expect it at all; people worshipped his word and the ground he walked on most of the time. It would do him some good to be put down a few extra pegs. That and Akira hoped he’d be able to keep him from getting them all killed. One way or another.

Akechi took a few short paces toward his destination, pausing once again. “I’ll contact you again soon. I suppose we’ll see each other one way or another.”

“We will. You can count on that,” Akira said firmly.

Akechi glanced back his way before more resolutely continuing on his way toward the station. Despite how tired he was, Akira lingered to watch Akechi’s form disappear at the turn he needed to take. He would have to move on and get home, eventually moving that way.

Morgana poked out of the bag to chat. “I didn’t expect it to go that way, but I wonder if he trusts you a little now.”

“Even with nearly shooting his nose off?”

“I think because of it honestly. Everyone else trusts you that much, maybe he’ll feel the same way some day,” Morgana suggested with a sagely little nod. “I mean, after seeing you in action you gotta hope he sees why this whole outfit works.”

Akira let that hang before answering. “But he keeps saying he doesn’t get it.”

“I think he knows what it is. He made that jab about being around you and being able to guess your plans and all. He just doesn’t know how to do it,” Morgana insisted. “Part of everything going well is your comrades knowing what you’ll do in certain situations, but the rest of it is just trusting you with your skills and decisions.”

Akira only hummed in response with a distant look.

“If there’s something that Akechi guy doesn’t know how to do, it’s trust anybody. You can bet on that one,” Morgana went on anyway.

In the end, Akira had guessed as much himself. If this was such a mystery to Akechi, it meant he probably didn’t know it that well himself. How long had he been living like that? It was best left a thought not lingered on. It wasn’t the time to feel pity for him--or feel anything.

And yet here he was. He let out a long sigh, hanging his head.

“Good information we picked up here today though. Operation Date Akechi was a success,” Morgana declared as Akira started to fish his keys out of his pocket. Keys hit the pavement with a rattle and Akira almost choked.

“Who made this an operation? Or a date for that matter?” he got out. He only remained frozen that second. Eventually he needed those keys to pry the door open. He kneeled down for them and Morgana went on.

“I dunno. Sorta seemed like the plan. Although, I guess you can hold off on telling the others for now. They’ll just message you all night. About your date. With Akechi.”

“Stop that,” Akira whispered harshly, but did at least get the door keyed open. “I fed you sushi, don’t betray me like this Morgana.”

There came an evil little “nyahaha” out of Morgana and for the rest of their time getting ready for bed Morgana took his turn to pick on Akira. Maybe that would even things out or something.

#persona 5 #akira kurusu #goro akechi #shuake #ren amamiya #joker's name changed between the time of ch1 and ch2 #i really didn't intend to continue this lol #but life happens sometimes #my writing #p5 #premonition in decaf

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