Chapter Text
“Ren!” One of his co-workers called from the back room. “Where did they put the new shipment of mocha syrup? We’re almost out!”
“It’s the box between the caramel syrup and the hazelnut shot,” Ren called back over his shoulder, heating some frothed milk for a cappuccino.
“Oh! Found it, thanks!”
“No problem!” Ren finished preparing the drink, swiftly dodging another co-worker running past him without spilling a single drop. Making his way over to the front counter, he slid it over to his customer - a regular here, and a familiar face.
“Pretty smooth moves there, Ren,” Maria complimented, taking a sip of her drink.
“Thanks. I thrive in chaos,” He replied, earning a giggle from her.
Maria attended the same culinary school as him, though she was several years his senior and majored in baking and pastry arts. She was pretty, too, with inquisitive brown eyes and long, dark hair that she kept in a messy bun. Every once in a while, they’d chat between classes, both ranting about their respective professors - hers, a flightly, dreamy-eyed woman with a frustratingly vague teaching style - and his, a strict, no-nonsense man who seemed better suited to be on the front lines drilling soldiers than in the kitchen.
He’d already told Ryuji about Maria over the phone, though Ren didn’t quite remember how the topic came up. His best friend didn’t hesitate for an instant.
‘Dude, if you don’t ask her out on a date, some other guy’s gonna beat you to it!’ He’d encouraged him. ‘Quit draggin’ your feet!’
He’d laughed it off, but…he wasn’t sure he was ready. Not because he didn’t like her, but -
“Oh! Sorry, looks like you’re getting a line,” Maria told him, startling him out of his thoughts. Sure enough, there was a line of impatient customers forming behind her. “Thanks for the coffee, Ren!”
“Anytime,” Ren told her with a smile. “Let’s catch up soon.”
As soon as she left, it was as if his proclamation of being able to thrive in chaos placed a curse on him. The little cafe was immediately swamped, Ren scrambling to keep up with the sudden influx of orders, each one more complicated than the last.
Even during the lunchtime rush, Leblanc was never this crazy.
After serving a customer that insisted she wanted a latte with only a splash of milk, Ren decided it was time to take a short breather. He sat down in the tiny break room and let out a long sigh.
This had been his last act of rebellion since the Metaverse collapsed - coming here to the States, against the wishes of his parents.
Much to their displeasure, one culinary school actually accepted his application. Ren was sure it was due to one thing. Not his expert knowledge in the art of making curry, nor of the process that went into brewing the perfect cup of coffee.
…But Sojiro Sakura’s glowing recommendation letter, which made him tear up upon reading it for the first time.
Still, even with Mona as his constant companion and emotional rock, adjusting to college life abroad and the resulting culture shock hadn’t been easy. It was bittersweet, leaving Japan. While a small part of Ren enjoyed the distance from painful memories…he ached for the familiarity of Leblanc, and for those he left behind.
Speaking of which…
Ren reached into his pocket and pulled out a single, black leather glove.
…A promise left unfulfilled.
He couldn’t even go to work without thinking about him, because making coffee stirred up those memories, too.
He closed his fingers around it, laughing softly to himself. Akechi would probably find it pathetic if he knew Ren took this thing with him everywhere. But at this point, it was kind of a good luck charm.
“Ren?” His co-worker peeked into the room, apologetic. “I know you’re on break, but…there’s someone here asking for you. He’s pretty insistent about wanting you to make his coffee.”
Ren pocketed the glove again. He’d barely sat down for five minutes, but he also didn’t want her to get harassed by some asshole if he could take care of it. “I’ll be right there,” He assured her with a smile. “Is it Bill again? He’s starting trouble kind of early today, huh?”
“No, not him, thank god! I haven’t seen this guy here before. He said his name’s Akechi.”
Ren froze.
He’d been reminiscing earlier, after all. Probably just heard that wrong. “Sorry…what? I didn’t catch that.”
“Akechi. Did I pronounce it right? Anyway, he’s a pretty cute guy…nice hair and eyes and everything…hey, are you alright? You’re really pale all of a sudden.”
The room spun. Ren leaned against the wall to steady himself.
…It couldn’t be him.
The last time he saw Akechi alive was at Dr. Maruki’s palace, where they faced off against that titan of a Persona together.
After that, he never saw him again. Never even got the chance to have a proper goodbye, before he was gone.
…Did it just happen to be someone with a similar name? Or...did Ren accept Maruki’s reality after all, but didn’t remember doing it? No, no…that wasn’t right either.
“Ren…? If you’re not feeling well, I can tell him - ”
Ren snapped out of his daze and ran past her, skidding to a stop at the front counter.
There, examining the menu above his head, was Goro Akechi.
“Ah. There you are,” Akechi said, as if it had been a week since their last meeting, and not years -
Ren’s voice caught in his throat. He was overwhelmed, unprepared, and couldn’t do much else but stare at him.
Akechi was as alluring as ever with his soft, wispy brown hair, delicate facial features, and a piercing gaze that aged him beyond his years. His hair had grown longer, and he kept it tied back in a high ponytail. He still had the same sense of style, too - dressed in a wool peacoat and his trademark black gloves.
But what really stood out to him was something less than positive.
Did he…lose weight? Maybe it was just Ren’s imagination, but he seemed to have hollowed out a bit -
“Let’s see…” Akechi contemplated the menu, seemingly oblivious to the crisis Ren was in because of him. “I’d like to try something out of my comfort zone today. An Americano, please.”
Did he even remember him? Did everything that happened leave him with a severe case of amnesia?
Mechanically, Ren turned to make the coffee, knocking over a whole tower of paper cups in the process, all of which scattered across the floor. Ren cursed under his breath in Japanese and rushed to pick them up…glancing in his rival’s direction.
Akechi had leaned forward ever so slightly over the counter, watching Ren flounder about with a familiar spark in his eyes.
...Oh, that was him alright.
No trace of amnesia there.
Now seething, Ren began to brew the espresso. He briefly considered making this one particular coffee the worst experience of Akechi’s life, but found himself working meticulously instead. He brought the coffee to him, a smile plastered on his face that in no way surpassed Akechi’s practiced one.
“Here you go!” He announced, before adding in a quieter voice, “Don’t you dare run off and disappear before I can talk to you…!”
Akechi simply brought the cup to his lips and took a small sip…satisfied. “You haven’t lost your touch, Ren,” He told him.
Hearing his name, Ren didn’t know whether he wanted to punch him, hug him, or cry. Maybe all three.
“Seems I have time to spare at the moment,” Akechi went on, checking his phone. “I’ll just make myself comfortable and get some work done.”
He paid Ren for his drink, headed over to the cafe’s lounge area, and did just that. As he continued to watch him, Ren noticed that Akechi carried a laptop bag slung over his shoulder instead of his signature briefcase. Upon closer examination, it bore the exact same ‘A’ symbol, boldly stamped onto the front.
Some things didn’t change.
Akechi typed away on his laptop while enjoying his coffee, and Ren somehow managed to get through the rest of his shift without breaking or spilling anything. He clocked out, hung his sweet-smelling apron up in the break room, and finally approached him.
He was relieved to see that Akechi was still there, and didn’t spontaneously dissolve into mist.
“Let’s go get some lunch, I’m starving,” Ren told him as he pulled on his own winter coat. “There’s a new Italian place that just opened up a block away. You up for it?”
Akechi, still infuriatingly calm, closed his laptop. “Sure, why not. Lead the way.”
They didn’t speak much on the way there, fast-walking to the restaurant. The early-winter air would be perfectly bearable if not for the freezing wind that cut right through to one’s core, so the rush of warmth that greeted them when they entered the building was a relief. They were promptly seated, a basket of breadsticks placed on the table in front of them, along with two menus.
“…Well?” Akechi leaned back in his chair with a small stretch of his arms.
Ren had picked up his own menu, flipping through it. “Well, what?” He asked without looking up.
“I’m assuming you didn’t invite me here to sit in silence,” Akechi pointed out. “Especially after you made it very clear that you wanted to talk. So…” He picked up a breadstick, taking a bite. “Get on with it, then.”
Ren glanced up at him from behind the menu he hadn’t actually been reading. The same questions swirled around and around his brain like an angry whirlwind.
Why didn’t you show up on Christmas Eve?
Where did you go after Maruki’s palace collapsed?
How did you end up here, in America, in the same exact place as me?
Why didn’t you let me know you were okay? I missed you.
Why? Why? Wh-
“Why are you so skinny?”
Akechi paused. “Excuse me?”
Ren let the menu drop, resting his chin in his hand. “You’re skinny, Akechi. Thin. You look like you dropped ten or fifteen pounds since I last saw you.”
Aaaaand, there it was. The barely perceptible twitch of the eye, whenever Akechi was just barely containing his irritation.
Ren first noticed this little quirk shortly after they started hanging out in high school. Akechi might’ve perfected the mask he showed to the public, and fooled everyone he met…but Ren picked up on that tiny giveaway long before the big betrayal was even carried out.
It was especially satisfying now, after what happened at the cafe before they got here.
“I’ve been busy,” Akechi said shortly, “Between my job and law school. I haven’t the time to waste gallivanting around town, sampling different foods like I used to.”
Law school, huh? Like Makoto’s sister.
Ren didn’t breach that subject yet, though. He’d annoyed him, and an annoyed Akechi was a talkative Akechi. He had to keep up the pace. “Oh, really? See, I’ve been working part-time and going to culinary school, and somehow, I still find time to eat.”
“Tch. You’ve always been the notorious time waster, not me,” Akechi scoffed. “To spell it out for you, my housing relies on maintaining a high GPA. That’s my priority, and making sure I stay within my budget in general. I’m not about to spend all the money I have left on takeout.”
“Uh, then cook? You can meal plan and save money that way. It’s easier.”
“I told you already, back in high school,” Akechi reminded him. “I don’t cook. Were you listening to anything I said, or was your head up in the clouds the entire time?”
Their waitress was already on her way back to their table, and Ren realized that he didn’t even take the time to decide what he wanted. The menu was massive, too. “I’m not ready yet.”
“Let me handle it, then.”
Pen and pad in hand, the young waitress approached their table with a kind smile. “Hi, I’m Keira, I’ll be your waitress today! What can I get for you gentlemen?”
Before Ren could speak, Akechi beat him to the punch.
“What would you recommend?” Akechi asked her in his flawless English. “It’s my first time here, and I’m a little intimidated by the size of this menu…!” He gave her a sheepish smile. Somehow, a light blush rose to his cheeks for good measure.
Instantly taken by him, the waitress beamed. “Oh! Definitely the Neapolitan-style Margherita flatbread. Simple, but delicious!”
“That sounds lovely, thank you. We’ll both share one!”
“Coming right up!” She took their order and hurried off.
Ren watched Akechi’s ‘pleasant boy’ expression devolve into his usual scowl, intrigued. “I thought you weren’t doing that anymore.”
“In some situations, the facade still has its merits. Otherwise - ” He paused to take a drink of water, “ - I’ve decided that I don’t give a shit about what other people think about me. I’m going to act as myself, and if they take issue with that…that’s their problem.”
Ren couldn’t help but smile.
Maybe…Akechi really did change after all.
“About what you said earlier,” Ren continued, “I always listen to everything you have to say. Very carefully, actually.” He spun the butter knife between his fingers idly. “I just figured that the whole ‘look at me, I can’t filet a fish’ thing was part of the act to look endearing.”
“It’s not,” Akechi said flatly. “And I never particularly cared about appearing ‘endearing’ to you, even back then. I’ve always been more up front with you than anyone else.”
As Ren contemplated those words for a moment, Akechi spoke up again. “So. Culinary school?” He smirked. “What kind of second-rate culinary school accepts a student that doesn’t know how to cook anything but curry?”
Ren laughed. “One that was willing to give me a chance. But sure, I’ll give you that. I’m a curry expert, but that’s not going to be enough if I want to prove to them…and my family…that I didn’t make the biggest mistake of my life by coming here.” He leaned forward. “With that being said, how do you feel about another deal?”
“...Go on.”
“I need practice,” Ren said, “So, here’s what I’m thinking. I’ll cook up something new. You try it, give me your honest feedback, and rank it anywhere from one to a ten. I’m aiming for a ten, obviously. If I fail, I keep trying again until I get it.”
Akechi raised his eyebrows. “You’re asking me to judge your cooking?”
“You’re the only one that will tell me if it’s a disaster without trying to spare my feelings,” Ren insisted. “Mona’s always supportive, but he doesn’t have the stomach for it, and he’s admitted he’s picky. Besides,” He added, “Didn’t you used to be a foodie? You even ran a whole blog on all the local restaurants and everything - ”
“See, that WAS part of the act,” Akechi corrected him. “I could care less what I eat, provided that it’s edible and fills the void.”
“That’s exactly why I need your help. You’re not easily impressed, and you won’t be biased. So…how about it?” Ren sat back. “Might be fun.”
Akechi studied him for a moment. That spark returned to his eyes again. “...Alright then, I’ll humor you. We’ll see if you actually have what it takes to be here.”
Ren grinned. “Got it. It’s a deal, then.”
Their fresh, hot pizza arrived shortly after, delivered to their table by the smitten waitress who’d given their order priority…before all the patrons that arrived here before them.
Ren returned to his condo with leftovers.
“Ooo, what’d you bring me?” Mona asked, nimbly jumping down from his favorite spot on the windowsill. His tail curled behind him as he padded over to Ren. “Anything good?”
“Afraid not…just pizza.” He set the box down on the kitchen island.
“Oh.” Mona’s ears drooped in disappointment. “You owe me, you know. I’d like to go with you to work next time, but after that lady almost sneezed herself into the next…hey. Everything okay?”
“...” Ren rubbed the back of his head, turning to Mona with a hesitant smile. “Hypothetically…what if I told you I was having someone over for dinner tomorrow? And that someone happened to be Goro Akechi?”