Archive of Our Own ^beta

It’s cold. Akira couldn’t really tell where he was, and his mind seemed to be failing him.

It might be dark, but it’s probably because the walls are so grey, he couldn’t really tell. There’s a single iridescent light beaming down on him, but it did nothing to agitate him. Akira thought he was awake but he didn’t feel that way, in fact, he couldn’t feel anything. Everything was a foggy blur, and all he knew was that he had a job to do. In that case, time to get to work.

Bang!

A thundering shot echoed through the room, clearing up the fog that encompassed it. Akira looked around, It’s the interrogation room where he was held in police custody for what felt like days.

A splash of stark red contrasted dull grey walls, dripping down to the lifeless body of a police officer in the corner.

He stiffened up, and a weight began to crush Akira’s lungs. He tried to breathe but it wasn’t working, It’s as if the air was empty, or this room was a vacuum. Akira can’t understand what’s going on, but his arms are heavy, and he can’t lose this weight on his chest.

He heard a voice in front of him, but he couldn’t tell what was said. Akira turned his head in the direction of the voice and saw Akechi standing next to the body in his tan blazer and striped tie with gloved hands and blood on his face. When did Akechi get here? Wasn't he supposed to be alone in this room?

Akechi was speaking but Akira still couldn’t tell what he was saying, it sounded like a language he couldn’t understand. But that was the least of his worries, he couldn’t feel the ground below him, and none of this felt real. Akira swallowed, opening his mouth to respond, but stopped…

He felt a weight in his hand. His arm was outstretched and pointed towards the red on the wall. The air grew thinner, and the aura of dread radiating from the object in his hand made him want to turn his head. But something told him that he had to see it. That he of all people needed to see what he was holding.

The object in his hand felt smooth, heavy, and metallic. He furrowed his brow and felt a lump develop in his throat as he hesitantly drew his hand close and forced himself to look. Then, all the flew out of his lungs. Nothing could’ve prepared him for what he saw.

It was a gun, and his finger rested on the trigger.

Akira’s eyes flew open in a cold sweat and he clutched the blanket covering his body with shaky hands. He scanned the area around him, the walls were no longer grey and the only light illuminating the room was cascading in from the windows. It was much warmer, and the bed was warm too, because there was a body sleeping next to him.

It’s Akechi… That’s right, he’s no longer in the interrogation room. Akechi brought him somewhere safe, everything’s fine now.

Akechi stirred for a bit before opening his eyes, Akira must’ve woken him up. He looked at Akira and his mouth stretched into a small smile that radiated comfort. But his eyes carried nothing, not that it mattered.

“You seem happy, did you have a nice dream?” Akira says, allowing himself to wear the same sincere smile.

“Better than that. Our plan worked, you're free now.” Akechi brought a hand up to Akira’s bruised cheek. For a split second Akira thought he looked concerned, it was so brief he almost missed it.

“You mean we’re free.” he corrects, earning a confirming hum from Akechi as he brushes his thumb across Akira’s cheek. The police roughed him up pretty bad while in custody, Akira could still feel every bruise scattered along his body. However, he couldn’t feel Akechi’s hand against the bruise on his face, but he didn’t care.

“One more thing.” Akechi hummed as he brought his attention back to Akira’s eyes.

“What is it?” Akira asks, relaxing into his touch and pretending that it was as warm as the light from the windows.

“You killed a man, Kurusu.”

Those words shook the air, Akira held his breath. He couldn’t hide the visible distress on his face, but Akechi’s expression stayed the same. Still, Akira refused to feel anything but comfort from him, why wouldn’t he? His smile was warm and his eyes were very understanding...

Understanding… Was that the right word? They seemed to hold something else, something Akira couldn’t decipher.

“Tell me, how did it feel to pull the trigger, to see the blood drip down those walls.” Akechi continued.

“What?” Akira choked out, his voice felt weak.

“And the body of that officer falling limp in the corner. Did watching the life drain from his eyes make you feel powerful?” Akira pulled Akechi’s hand off his cheek and sat up in bed. Akechi’s eyes were glued to his, as if he could see beyond Akira’s expression. Or like he understood something Akira didn’t.

“Ake-”

“I never thought you’d be able to do something like that, to be honest I’m shocked.” he sat up to meet Akira’s eye level with that smile still present on his face. Akira’s hands started to shake, the air was growing thinner again. “But still, you put on quite the performance, Kurusu. You ought to take a bow.” There was no shred of malice in his voice. He sounded genuinely impressed, or proud. Akira was distraught, Akechi knew he never wanted any of this… Did he?

“Why are you doing this?” Akira forced himself to say.

“Hm? You look distressed.” Akechi finally dropped his smile. Instead, he wore a mask of curiosity, and his voice sounded abnormally innocent. It all melded together in a way Akira couldn’t hope to comprehend, but he didn’t like any of it. It’s not right, something’s off. “Is something wrong? You should be proud of what you’ve done.”

“I-...” Akira starts but is unable to finish.

“In fact we should do something nice, something to commemorate your amazing performance. What do you think?” Akechi coos, wrapping his arms around Akira.

“Stop.” Akira utters. Akechi pulled back and gave him a look of confusion.

“Why? Do you regret what you’ve done?” He dropped his arms and furrowed his brow as if he didn’t expect Akira to answer how he did. “Is the freedom you sought not as great as you thought it to be?” The room Akira was in began to fade, like a facade that was being dropped. But he didn't want it to go, Akira needed to keep feeling the bed beneath him, he was desperate. “Are you going to allow your guilt to imprison you once again?”

“I did this for both of us.” Akira says with a little more despiration than he intended.

“This isn’t about me. I’m asking you, Kurusu.” Akechi asserts.

Akira didn’t speak, more like he couldn’t. Between the imposing gaze of Akechi’s eyes and the growing coldness of this room, he was frozen.

Akechi’s eyes narrowed in disappointment. “Your silence tells me all I need to know. If that’s the case, then so be it.”

“What do you mean?” Akira asks. Akechi stood up from the bed and walked away from Akira, keeping his back turned against him.

“Look at you, you used to be a hero. Tell me Kurusu, do heroes kill?” He proclaims.

The room was getting darker, and not as warm. Akira instinctively wrapped his arms around himself, trying to convince himself that he’s got everything under control. But the walls were too dark and he couldn’t feel the bed he sat on.

“Was it worth it? Taking the life of an innocent person for your own self gain, isn’t that what you swore to fight against?”

Akira swallowed, he felt weak. Every cell of his body was begging him to get up and leave, but he couldn’t. This was a judgement he couldn’t escape.

“Can’t answer my questions? That’s fine, I’m done asking.” Akechi turned around to face him and donned the same smile he wore from earlier. Only this time, it was anything but comforting. Akira felt his stomach drop.

He started walking back in Akira’s direction, every step Akechi took made the room around him even darker. The walls continued to lose their color and the warmth drained from the light that now barely illuminated the room. The windows were gone, and replaced with grey. Akechi’s grin had a holier than thou nature and every movement he made was purposeful and resolute. Each word that was about to fire from his mouth would be spoken with gleeful conviction.

“You’re a killer, Kurusu. You’ll always be one.”

“No..” Akira thought he said, but he didn’t.

“You’ll reek of death and bring nothing but destruction wherever you go.”

“Stop.” again, words that didn’t leave his mouth.

“You’ll corrupt everything you touch, even a slight brush of a finger will burn you a thousand times over.”

“Please, please stop.” Akira tries to beg but makes no sound. He brought his hands up to his hair and around his ears. The room was getting darker but he couldn’t look away or close his eyes.

“The song of that gun you fired will forever ring in your ears. It will keep you awake at night and never leave you alone.”

“Akechi… please…” Akira was unable to hide from his words, and each one hurt like a bullet straight through his chest.

“Don’t you understand? The ghost of what you’ve done will haunt you wherever you go! You’ll never be free!” Akechi professes, standing directly over Akira. He spoke the truth, and Akira knew that. But still...

“Why?” Akira finally manages to say. Akechi’s grin widened as he stepped even closer and brought gloved hands to Akira’s cheeks. Why were his hands gloved?

“Why? Isn't it obvious? You must pay for the blood on your hands.”

In that moment, everything changed, and Akira lost all the footing he thought he had. He was stuck somewhere he severely needed to escape from, but this time he knew he couldn’t. The floor is concrete even though it shouldn’t be. Why was there a light dangling above him again? And when did this table get here? His surroundings were changing too fast, the walls were getting too dark, and the air was growing too thin. Not this… Akira couldn’t bear to be here again.

Akechi backed away and took in the sight before him. His tan blazer and striped tie were on again. He wasn’t wearing that before. He shouldn’t be wearing those clothes. Nor should there be blood on his face.

“-kira?”

“I’ll be here to remind you every second of every day. I’ll never leave you.” The bed Akira sat in was gone and replaced with a chair, one he’s been in for a painfully long time.

“Akira?”

“Yes… So long as I’m here, I’ll never allow you to forget what you’ve done.” His hoodie was replaced with a black Shujin uniform blazer and pants.

“Akira, wake up.”

“Mark my words, you’ll never be free! You'll relish in the guilt of your actions and relive what you’ve done over and over and over again! Did you really think you could live a peaceful life after what you’ve done? You took another man’s life, Kurusu! You’ll never know peace again, just the cold, agonizing pain of regret! Why? Because that’s what you deserve.” The metallic tang of a gun burned his hands. Everything was all too clear and concise, the red on the walls, the body in the corner, even his finger on the trigger.

“Wake up already!”

Akechi backed up and looked down on Akira with eyes that displayed something at the intersection of disgust and devotion. Something that told him that he’d always be there, and Akira was going to be at the mercy of his judgement.

“Until next time, Kurusu. I’ll be here, waiting.” Akechi flashed one last divine grin that burned itself into Akira’s eyes and mind. Then, everything started to fade into black.

The hopelessness Akira felt in that moment was indescribable, like the world was caving in on him and he couldn’t run away. Everything Akechi said was correct, he had to believe him. He deserved every painful word he threw at him, and every breath stolen from his lungs. This was Akira’s punishment, and he couldn’t escape it. He’d be here for the rest of his life, drowning in an ocean of inescapable regret. But he had no right to complain…

Akira belonged here.

“Akira!”

Akira snaps awake, gasping for air. Akechi was there next to him, clutching his quivering hand. The look on his face was different from before, it was genuine, with no unreadable eyes or indecipherable expression. It was him.

“A-.. Ake-..“

“Don’t try to talk, breathe. You’re okay.” Akechi explains. Akira does what he says and focuses solely on his breathing. He hadn’t realized just how fast his heart was beating, or how clammy his hands were. But he’s still in bed, and Akechi was sitting here beside him. Whatever Akira saw before wasn’t real, it wasn’t him. He’s okay now, the room was no longer a cold vacuum, but a warm apartment. His dirtied uniform and Akechi’s bloodied blazer from yesterday were on the floor near the bed. His hands were wrapped in the bandages Akechi put on him, he was still covered in the bruises that Akechi treated after giving him water, and he was still wearing the hoodie Akechi gave him. He could feel the bed below him, and Akechi still grasping his hands. Yes, this is real, he can relax now.

“I’m sorry for waking you up.” Akira says after taking a final stabilizing exhale. Akechi released the tension in his shoulders that he didn’t know he was holding and let go of Akira’s hands.

“Don’t be. Considering what you went through, I’d be more surprised if you could sleep soundly.” Akira hummed, tempted to close his eyes but decided it’s best that he didn't.

“It’s going to be like this for a while huh?” Akira says, staring at his hands for a while before resting them on his forehead.

“So long as you have that heart of yours.” Akechi points out, causing Akira to grow a small but tired smile.

“Yeah, I guess that was a dumb question.” Akechi looked at him for a second longer. He had an almost apologetic expression, but it was too vague to see clearly. Still, it was there, and there was no doubt about it.

“What’s done is done. We have to move forward from here.” he says. Akira wanted to agree with him, but his hands were still hot, they almost felt burned. This would only be the beginning of what he’s bound to deal with, how could move on in this state?

“What should I do?” Akira asks, and Akechi completely understands what he means. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before crafting a response.

“Remember how I said I didn’t want you to get to the point where you feel numb? I meant that.” Akechi answers.

“I know, and I wouldn’t plan on it… but still.” Akira couldn’t look at him, his eyes wandered off to the walls, reassured by the fact that they weren’t grey. Akechi placed a hand on his shoulder where he knew there wasn’t a bruise.

“Nothing weighs more than a guilty conscience. It’s one hell of a burden to carry, but things become much worse once you lose it.”

Akira looked back at him, he knew he was being honest. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Akechi nodded.

“You’re a good person Akira, don’t forget that.”

He meant it, he really did. The way he spoke was so genuine in a way that was unique to Akechi alone. It’s an honesty that cooled the burn on his hands and comforted him. He felt safe with him, and he wanted to protect him. Akira could never forget that.

“You said my first name again.” Akira says.

“And you were talking in your sleep.” Akechi responds, getting up and walking over to a closet to pick out clothes to wear.

“That’s the third time you’ve said it.” Akira sat up and smiled, though he knew Akechi couldn’t see it. Not that it mattered, Akechi knew him well enough to know when he’s smiling.

“It probably won’t be the last. Let’s go, we can’t stay here long.” Akechi threw him a change of clothes and went back to scouring through the closet for different items.

As Akira got dressed, he couldn’t help but think about everything been through. He used to be a hero, but killed someone, there’s no running away from that. He’d have to live with the guilt of his actions for the rest of his life. He’s going to suffer through several other trials and countless other dreams like last night. It’s going to be rough, but he had no plans of throwing away his conscience.

So, was all this worth it?

Akira looked back to Akechi, who was holding a pair of train tickets with a deciding look on his face. And that’s all Akira needed to see to answer his question. This was what they worked for, Akira is free, and Akechi is safe.

As long as Akechi was with him, everything he did was completely worth it.