Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.” - Oscar Wilde

April 4th, 20XX
Morning
SIU Office Building

Bright-eyed, hopeful, full of life.

One could imagine all these words to describe Ren as he sat in a chair, happily awaiting his approval to finally be a part of Tokyo’s justice system. Albeit, his denotation of the department he was awaiting approval on said the opposite.

Sterile, matter-of-factly.

He had a clean record. No past criminal activities, top scores both in high school and in one of Yokohama’s most prestigious universities. Everything that a top candidate should have, Ren offered it in spades. He was an endless deck of cards, always pulling out whatever was necessary to trump everything thrown his way. Now, he was here, to protect and serve the denizens of Tokyo, Japan. For as long as he knew, he had a fondness for wanting to change the world for the better.

Wearing a heat-pressed white collared shirt and black slacks, adorned with a red tie, smart glasses, and black dress shoes, Ren Amamiya was ready. He had aced the interviews, completed basic training, and was an ace at forensics with his keen eyes. Detective work was just something he was good at, and the department knew that he knew as well.

The door before him swung open, revealing a full-fledged young adult standing at the ready. It was a woman, also sharply dressed to impress: Bright baby blue button-up shirt with rolled up sleeves and suspenders, well-fitted professional slacks, fingerless gloves, dark brown boots, and a seifuku-styled yellow tie. Her hair is long and silky, under no constraints of a hat of any sort; instead, she lets it flow freely. This woman in particular had been on national news before - labeled as the Ace Detective, the one and only, Naoto Shirogane.

“Ren Amamiya,” Naoto spoke loudly, calling him to attention. He stood up and saluted. “As of today, you will be part of our task force in helping clean up Tokyo’s streets. We look forward to seeing your work.”

“Glad to be of service!” Ren responded in kind, then bowed. “Thank you.”

Ren recomposed himself and stared blankly at the door where his superior was located. Out from the corner of the board room, a younger woman stepped in-between the empty frame and Shirogane, also dressed similarly to Ren himself. 

She also had a clean white collared shirt, a black tie, the same professional black slacks and dress shoes, and a dark brown bob for hair. Notably, her eyes were a dark scarlet color. She bowed before him politely.

“My name is Makoto Niijima, and starting today, I’m your partner!” She said proudly. After raising herself up from her bow, she smiled at Ren.

He tilted his head, taking note of how Makoto presented herself. Curiously, he recognized this from somewhere - be it from his past, or a recent memory. Wherever it was, there was a strange familiarity to her that he couldn’t quite shake. Was it her sense of professionalism? Her outline? Or perhaps, they met in another life? He digressed temporarily, for there would be answers later down the line.

“Now,” Naoto chimed in, “I fully expect you to get to know each other, so don’t hesitate about asking anything. I have a lot of work to do, so…if you’ll excuse me.” She glanced over to the stairs leading up to the next floor, and left without saying another word. Both Makoto and Ren gazed at her ascent, then at each other.

They weren’t going to be on-duty until the day after today, so it would be best to get acquainted if nothing else. Perhaps, as he took another closer look at her, Makoto was someone he did know before from somewhere.

A jingle of keys was heard within Ren’s purview, and he noted that Makoto had been dangling some in her hands. “Wanna go somewhere? Coffee, maybe?” she offered with sincerity. Without hesitating, Ren nodded.

As they exited the department outside, Ren only registered that their police car was the one parked outside. He hummed and nodded, now realizing Makoto had been here the whole time. Once she got into the driver’s side, she popped open the lock for the passenger side for Ren to get in. As he did, both of them fastened their seatbelts. Makoto then dialed down the police chatter, wanting no noise inside the car.

As the car began roaring its engines awake, Makoto put her hands on the steering wheel and gearshift. Before that, however, she gazed over to her new partner. “So, Ren huh? Where’d you go to school?”

“Hmm?” Taken aback, it was the same question he’d ask Makoto down the line. Instead, he responded, “Shujin Academy.”

She lightly smiled. “That’s funny. I went to Shujin, too.” Makoto let her hands off both the shift and the wheel, letting the car idle briefly. “What class were you?”

“2-D,” Ren responded. Now that Shujin was back on his mind, he remembered: He had in fact met Makoto a few times when he was in the library. She was always deep in her own books, however, but the thought lingered all the same. He followed up, “Now that I think about it, weren’t you class president?”

He pivoted around his seat, letting one of his arms rest on the small compartment separating them. “You were. You were the girl I saw in the library often.”

“I was!” Makoto replied. “But it’s weird, I don’t recall you.”

“Ah, well…” Ren nervously chuckled and scratched his unkempt and curly hair. “I was the quiet kid. Just kept my head down. I never really stood out.”

“Let’s change that then.” Makoto proclaimed, smiling as she repositioned her hands once more, then got the car rolling. “Everyone in the office is going to get to know you, and you them.”

With her free hand, she slapped Ren’s shoulder in a friendly manner. “Can’t be Mr. Unassuming anymore, Detective Amamiya.” She joked, lightly laughing to herself. 

“How long have you been working as a detective, Niijima-san?” Ren asked, unsure of how to properly address her.

Makoto’s eyes widened in surprise at the respect he was giving her already. He wasn’t wrong for mentioning it was her last name, but…”Niijima-san is my sister, Sae’s honorific…boy, that feels awkward,” She noted to herself, “Just call me Makoto. I’ve been working here for about three months!”

“And?” Ren let her continue. “How do you feel about it?”

There was a silence as the only sound that could be gathered between the two of them was the cars, both their own and everyone else’s around them. Makoto let out a low sigh before smiling. “Difficult, but…rewarding, I guess? It’s not what I thought it’d be.”

Curious, Ren considered. Helping people always comes easy, so to hear this, and from one of the class presidents from his alumni, it truly must be a new challenge, right? The challenges of being on the job would mean long hours and often thankless help after all, but not something he’d be completely unprepared for.

That was just his perception. He wanted to learn Makoto’s thoughts instead.

“And what did you want it to be?” Ren persisted, pushing Makoto once more. “Surely the class president of Shujin Academy isn’t just satisfied with being a detective.”

“Police Commissioner!” Makoto replied in earnest. “Just like my old man.”

Then came another silence between them, and a shift in atmosphere. He saw Makoto pursing her lips, and he raised an eyebrow. It felt as if Ren had touched on a delicate subject in that moment, but he opted not to push her any further than he needed. All was enough for now, and more would come later with experience and time.

“Right,” Makoto snapped out of it. “So where we’re going is a little quaint spot my older sister found in Yongen-Jaya…”

And so it was that their first day together brought in a mundane life for Ren. He met several of his new officers who would gladly help him - Chie Satonaka, Akihiko Sanada, and one other senior detective by the name of Kurosawa, amongst a sea of other Japanese names he’d have to try to remember over time. Of many, those were the ones that left an impression on him the most.

In his first month, due to short-staffing and an overload of lower-end police work needing to be done, Ren and Makoto were assigned to the same thing that they would always be assigned going forward: Petty thievery, low-tier drug busts, hit and runs for public property, traffic stops, with the biggest highlights being assisting other bigger departments in large-scale gang warfare operations. 

They were never plains clothed - instead, they’d be uniform just to blend in. It felt like a rugpull, because it wasn’t what they signed up for, but one they bitterly swallowed. A time would come later, perhaps.

There was always something… wrong, with how he thought this system was being run. He noticed inefficiencies. Too much red tape, too much bureaucracy, too many questions, little to no answers. Justice, as it seemed, was not exactly the hope that kept pushing forward Ren. To be kind was in his nature, but to be a good man called for something entirely different from his skillset.

“Stop!” Ren shouted into the echoes of time, letting it repeat in his head. He was chasing after a criminal who just mugged a teenager. He ran after them in hot pursuit, said criminal tripping and falling after a short chase. Inevitably, he was caught, and he was tried. Then, he was sentenced for a time.

Big win, right? Unfortunately, not really. Procedures got in the way instead, and with it, all sense of justice was thrown deliberately away in the name of doing things by the book.

“What?!” Ren shouted at the prosecutor. “He was clearly mugging that kid, how is he able to walk free from that?!”

The prosecutor only sighed and resigned himself to what was to happen next. Defeated yet determined, he answered. “Because it didn’t really happen. There’s inconclusive evidence to suggest he was truly after anything Mr. Oda had on him.”

The victim was a teenager, one Shinya Oda. From what Ren could learn, Shinya wasn’t the most well-mannered boy on the block, but he did have a spark in his eyes that would’ve proved that there was a passion for the younger generation. One that, unfortunately, died with a small whimper to injustice.

Ren’s gaze swiftly propped itself over to the teenager, across several protective windows, who was now clearly lost like a deer in the headlights over this. He felt a sense of anger, balling his fists over it before letting go just as quickly. His eyes furrowed over to the prosecutor, who looked just as guilty of the crime as the thug who did this.

Why did this happen? He could still hear the lifelessness in Shinya’s words, after the mugging stopped. “Detective…” He’d murmur to Ren. “He didn’t even take anything, but…it was like I was nothing.”

“That it was unavoidable.” The prosecutor told him apathetically, but he didn’t want to believe. The system could not be so easily broken, could it? Something so easy as a mugging didn’t just happen and someone could merely get away, surely? The unavoidable could, in fact, be avoided. They were just not doing things right.

The look on Shinya’s eyes said everything to Ren. Anybody could’ve done it, but he did it by instinct - it should've counted. Was he wrong to do it, then? What did it matter?

Even Makoto was facing it, yet she remained hopeful. Justice, after all, could not be blind. It was the long arm of the law, and protecting civilians was what they stood for. Every day, she would go to work staring at a mirror first thing in the morning. She would glance over and see the shadow of those who came before her, urging her to keep going.

“What would dad do?” She’d ask herself in that mirror. She’d let the question ring across the tiny halls of her residence before Sae came in.

Her older sister would reply, “The same thing he and I are doing - our best.” and a soft, yet tired smile would be placed on her lips.

She had to step up too and do her civic duties all the same. She was born for it, trained and molded for it. The system couldn’t fail her if Sae was visual proof of its successes.

And yet…If they did the right thing, why did it not come to the right conclusions?

There was of course, the matter of one more word Ren thought of, back on his first day awaiting approval from the higher-ups. He hadn’t thought of it before, but now, it was all too apparent.

To be bright-eyed and hopeful was the beginning, as all people start.
To see the world as sterile and matter-of-factly was the harsh reality people dip themselves in as they go along.
To feel, as time wears down all things and erodes away at morality…it was all but one thing.

Corrupt.

The inefficiencies had to be for a reason. There would not be so easy of an explanation for it aside from that one word. There is no greater injustice than doing nothing, even if it requires as much.

Thus, the bright-eyed hopeful dreams flickered in its flames. There were tiny kindles of it still deep within Ren’s insights - something just had to change. To give. To strive to be more. Yet, there would be no answer for it. Hope had no feathers in this world, for its sensibilities were plucked away. If there could not even be one crime stopped with a just reward, what chance would the bird see if it could not soar?

Things were only just beginning.

Chapter Text

“Every man is guilty of all the good he did not do.” - Voltaire

Nine months later…

January 14th, 20XX
Late Night
Tokyo Alleyway

Another night, another case. 

For tonight’s patrol, Ren and Makoto sat in their cruiser checking back notes on if this was the perpetrator they were looking for. They received warnings from several people that a couple were around the Shinjuku area causing trouble. They were rowdy, unruly, and downright ruthless to those who attempted to disperse or break them up.

Ren sighed and placed the journal of notes on the dashboard and lightly stretched, feeling a light crack from his lower back. “It’s them, alright.” he said, wearily. “You want me to deal with it first or do you wanna get in on the action?”

Makoto chuckled before rubbing her temples after a long night. She looked like she could’ve used some pain medication right now just to take the edge off, yet all the same she could power through one more case before the night ends. “Same rules apply?”

He shrugged, but in agreement. “Yeah. If they run, you’re buying. And if they don’t…”

“Yeah, yeah…I’m buying for the night.” Makoto finished the thought. 

Whosoever was correct in an embarrassingly stupid game of rounds, bought the winner anything they wanted for the night - and it was usually traded in as a drink ticket elsewhere around town. Other nights, it could’ve been for food, or simple groceries, anything to keep them from making it too mundane out over here. For tonight, just as every other common night, was drinks.

Ren exited the police car first, straightening up his shirt. He prepared some handcuffs at the ready, and began approaching the couple down the alleyway, cross-referencing the notes from what the police wrote down and what he was seeing before him. He’d approach them just as how he would’ve approached every encounter over the past several months: By-the-book. Clinical. Hollow-eyed. It was, obviously, the correct way the system in place permitted him to act as.

Over the course of these months, Ren and Makoto had these investigations and reports down to a science, to the point where it began to feel like pointless shakedowns. 

Step one - Approach them with amiable intent. 

Step two -  Ask if they could empty their pockets and if they were in the clear, they’ll walk free. 

Step three -  Should step two fail, apprehend thugs. 

Steps four, five, and six all ended up on how far everyone would go - either quietly or loudly, but more often than not this was the breaking of glass in case of emergencies of guidance.

If they ran, Makoto would outrun them and just book them for resisting arrest - she was the more athletic out of the two, but Ren was slowly keeping up over time.

Steps five and six were usually when backup would be requested if things got too violent, or things were not going as well as they’d hoped. Six, above all else, was to effectively resign yourself to the white flag of surrender if all else failed, and just hoping you live another day. There had never been a need for Step Six, because Step Five was authorization for non-lethal guns.

Petty crimes such as these unfortunately lead to pettiness and weariness, more so for Ren as he’d been doing the same things for months on end. As his figure blocked the cruiser’s blinding lights, his own gaze sorted both of them out to be the typical man and woman duo that permeated often in Shinjuku. They glared at him like they’d just seen red.

“Evening folks,” He’d always begin, script-like. “We’ve received some reports of a disturbance happening around these streets.”

“Ain’t none of your business what’s happenin’ here!” The man shouted at him, disrupting the peace further. “Fuck off, pig!”

And as per usual, this was the response from individuals who were under the influence of drugs. The degradation of his sensibilities, whittling little by little. Anybody at this stage would’ve just opted for the easy way out: Punch first, ask questions later. Ren was not that kind of person, and neither was Makoto. 

The sound of the driver-side car door reverberated into the alleyway and Makoto exited out of the door tailing behind Ren. She was quicker on the uptake, now appearing close-by without a word. She crossed her arms, letting Ren take the lead.

Continuing on with his usual scripts, Ren rolled his eyes. “As I was saying…I just need to see what’s inside your pockets. Nothing more, nothing less. You can do that, right?”

“Huh?!” The couple exclaimed at the same time, but it was now the woman’s turn to speak up. “Like hell you are! Why do we gotta listen to you?!”

The man interjected, taking one step forward as Ren and Makoto took one step back. “I’ll fuckin’ kill ya!” he threatened.

“Yeah, fuck ‘em up babe!” The woman encouraged her boyfriend as he was quickly approaching Ren.

“Now, now…let’s not get so hasty…” Ren chuckled nervously, raising his hands up in defense. “You don’t want to do this to the police, now would you?”

“So what? Pigs are dime a dozen, people feast on ‘em as a reward! You’ll get what ya deserve!” The man threatened, now placing his knife closer to Ren’s throat.

“I got ‘em,” Makoto replied, having taken the opportunity to sneak past the man and get him from behind. With how quick and routine things became, she got used to just picking the pockets of the petty criminals she was usually up against. “This man has drugs in his pockets. Enough of a dose to be considered dealing.”

“What the FUCK!?” The man screamed in anger, turning his back to Ren and now facing Makoto. “YOU BITCH!”

“Shit, jig’s up, let’s get on outta here!” The woman called to him, and the next thing both detectives knew, they were high-tailing it out of the alleyway.

Looking at each other, Ren gave a soft smile whilst he scratched his head, and Makoto in return pointed at him. “You’re buying tonight!” She giggled before her demeanor turned serious, beginning her own sprint. “Hey! I’m an officer of the force! GET BACK HERE!”

Well, shit. Ren thought to himself, now following along in his own sprint.

Step 2b, if they just decided to book it without complying, call for backup immediately.

Ren pressed his police radio strapped to his breast. “This is Detective Amamiya, requesting backup in the Shinjuku District! We’ve got a couple runners on the loose!”

It didn’t take long considering Makoto’s athletic prowess easily catching up to one half of the couple. The man was now face firmly planted down on the ground, with Makoto’s knee on his back.

“By the order of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, you’re under arrest!” Makoto proclaimed, now handcuffing the man with one of his arms behind him, and the other clearly compressed on the ground.

Ren searched the surroundings, but he’d lost the woman in the crowd who was now gathering around them in the main streets. Briefly, just as his eyes flicked back to the man, he saw hints of the woman in the crowd. Thinking nothing of it and his inability to catch up, he let her go. 

There’ll be a next time, he assured himself. 

There always would be. If not today, maybe tomorrow.

His next objective now was taking note of the people around them gasping and gawking. With how Makoto was handling the man, it was clear he was in direct pain at how uncomfortable his hand was, wrapped around a pair of handcuffs - something he couldn’t deal with right now either. Ren instead raised both of his hands up innocently.

“Alright everyone, show’s over. Go back to your business, it’s just regular police work over here.” He reassured the crowd, all of whom slowly walked away from the action. Some people instead began recording footage of the incident, something he couldn’t do against, but it was within their right to do so.

“I know my rights, you fat fucking WHORE! You didn’t have A FUCKING SEARCH WARRANT!” He shouted until his throat ran hoarse, only for Makoto to lightly smack him in the face. “LEMME GO!”

“Be quiet!” She commanded him. “We’ll see how much that holds up against other charges…” Makoto murmured thereafter, then steadily pulled up the man.

Just in time, other officers arrived on the scene, but it was only one familiar face that Ren had indeed gotten used to over the course of his time here, one that he’d remember the name for.

“Detective Amamiya,” A tall man with ashen white hair greeted him, still wearing his ever-present facial bandages. He wore a sturdy build as a foundation for his physicality, and often wore fingerless gloves - yet it never hid the fact his fists were always bruised or battered. Unlike Ren and Makoto before him however, he wore a clean gray suit with a black shirt on the inside. “You alright?”

“Aki,” Ren addressed in return. “Yeah, we’re alright. We’ve apprehended a potential dealer.”

“And the substance?” Akihiko questioned, to which Makoto stepped in and stuck out her hand for Akihiko to see. It was a coke bag, and one that was ready to be supplied to others.

“I take it you'll turn him in after booking?” Makoto asked, and Akihiko nodded with a confident look on his face.

She handed the man over to Akihiko, who rapidly took hold of him to ensure he wouldn’t run away with cuffs in hand. Almost jokingly, Akihiko saluted both of them. “Pleasure doing business, Detective Niijima, we’ll handle this.”

In return, Makoto did the same, saluting back at him. “Much appreciated, Inspector Sanada. Tell Chie she still owes me a steak dinner too.”

“Heh, as if her salary’s gonna permit that.” Akihiko remarked before taking away the man, who now chose to remain silent. “Maybe I’ll see if she can’t set aside something for you.”

Now as the main street returned to its status quo, Ren finished penning in the finale of the case for tonight with a small notebook. He pocketed both the book and pen back into their respective places, and witnessed as Makoto took a deep sigh and headed back out of the alleyway.

“So, where to?” She said, making her way back to the cruiser with Ren in tow.

“Well, since we’re close…Crossroads?”

“Never a bad choice, Detective Amamiya,” Makoto coyly said. “I’m gonna need a few stiff ones tonight.”

Ren could only force a laugh, knowing this place was expensive, but it suited Makoto’s tastes. He got into the passenger side of the car, and off they went into the night.

January 15th, 20XX
Midnight
Crossroads Bar

One thing Makoto would be notoriously good and bad at, it’s always how she’d hold her drink. On the one hand, she was a heavy drinker. On the other hand, she was a goddamn heavy drinker. Though Crossroads itself was on a fairly peaceful evening service, it still had immense business in the way of Makoto emptying wallets with the booze she drank.

After ordering the first round, Ren dived deep into some stress-free entertainment, reading the latest Vague issue. It was pertaining to the story of the front cover’s leading lady, and how she managed to cope with the loss of a beloved friend back in the day. At the front of every Vague magazine of course, provided the feature of the one and only up and coming supermodel. This one in particular was extra pretentious:

“Blazing Inferno of a Thousand Suns, The Meteoric Eruption of Ann Takamaki”

Ren paid no real mind to what she was wearing, or any of the sort at the time. Makoto, having downed half of her glass of ale, took note of it. She almost choked at the sight, coughing wildly.

“You really gotta slow down,” Ren commented. “And not just talking about how you drink, either.”

Makoto reached out to her partner and lowered the magazine from his purview. “Not that. Did you know Ann used to be part of Shujin Academy, too?”

“Eh?” Ren interrupted, now closing the magazine article and flipping it to the front. He kept a tab on it however, planting his index on the page he was on. Having now taken in what Ann was wearing - designer shades on top of her head, a chic off-shoulder white T-shirt, and several pieces of adorned jewelry to compliment her twin pigtails, he leaned his head to the side. “Her? Hang on, what class was she in?”

“2-D, just like yours, eheh…” Makoto giggled. “Although since Mr. Unassuming never cared to look around, you probably just never noticed.”

That can’t be. Simply because they’d be in two wholly different worlds if that were true. Yet, he did remember Ann’s signature platinum blonde pigtails often when the class had to present something for class, be it a report on a book or otherwise. Briefly, he flipped back to the article and scanned the words in particular, and sure enough…there was mention of Shujin Academy in there.

He set the magazine down and sighed. “Alright, can we please talk about something else?”

“Such as?” Makoto chimed in.

“That bust like an hour ago. He was right, you know.”

“...About?” Makoto asked, drinking more of her beer. “What? A search warrant?”

“Yeah. I don’t wanna say it because I know you hate me saying it but…”

“I get it, Ren-kun.” Makoto let out a low sigh and shook her head. “I really messed up today.” Then, she slammed her palm on the table. “But illegal or not, we found the drugs, didn’t we? They ran. They resisted arrest. They’re off the streets.”

“It’s still illegal. Procedures exist and we --” Ren explained, but Makoto cut him off all the same.

“It’s bullshit is what it is!” Makoto said, raising her voice at it in anger. “Why does it matter if it gets results all the same?! It’s just so goddamn annoying!” In retaliation, she downed the rest of her drink and then promptly picked up the next one, drinking more in the process.

“Like…I didn’t sign up to be a detective just so I could waste my time dealing with low-level kids thinking they’re hot shit…” Makoto said, her words now trailing off. Briefly, she set aside the glass and slowly wiped her face down with both her hands, but hung both of them halfway to cover her mouth. “Ren…” she said in a low voice, ignoring the honorific.

“...Yeah?” He responded, hesitantly.

She sighed, now steepling her hands, her voice cracking, as if she were ready to cry. “I’m tired of this. Everything we do, we keep telling ourselves that it’s helping change Japan for the better. But is it really…?”

Ren struggled for an answer. He lightly wetted his lips, giving some thought to it.

In the almost one year tenure he’d been here, whereas Makoto would’ve been here for the full year’s worth as is, they were meant to be handling bigger cases than this. It wasn’t glamorous, granted, but it meant something more, being at the heart of the action. 

Being a detective where it mattered was what he and Makoto did sign up for, originally - to work with the illustrious Naoto Shirogane was an honor and a half, yet here they were, reduced to a mobile desk job and treated with dignity on par with janitors. Ren did agree, however, that their talents were being wasted on something insignificant. Yet still…

“It has to,” was his response. “Even if it doesn’t feel like it, sometimes. Because it’s the little things that count, right?”

“Sure, I guess…” Makoto agreed in resignation. Her eyes shifted over to the glass, and she pushed it farther away from her, all the way to the corner where the table met the wall. “I wanna go home.”

“And I’m gonna drive you then. Because you’re already too drunk even if you’re only buzzed.”

“...One for the road then,” Makoto said boldly, quickly grabbing the glass and downing it in quick succession. “Killer hangover tomorrow but I don’t work.”

“If Sae-san sees you like this then I’m not sure you’re gonna be up tomorrow either,” Ren jokingly commented. “You know she hates the fact you keep drinking, right?”

To which, Makoto could only respond with a shrug of her own before handing the keys to the cruiser over to Ren. Though she walked towards the door just fine, Makoto did begin to stumble momentarily as soon as they were facing the door. Ren swooped in quickly to help her rebalance herself, ensuring she wouldn’t fall.

“You alright?” He asked, and Makoto only nodded. 

He rolled his eyes, keeping a soft smile. “I really don’t know how you drink this much and don’t ever fall apart.”

“Built different,” Makoto jokingly responded in kind. “I’m not exactly a pushover, either!”

After some consideration, it might’ve been better if he held onto her all the way until she got in the car.

January 15th, 20XX
Midnight
Niijima Residence

Turns out however, Makoto could only ever handle the first onslaught of what beer does to the body. The second onslaught was keeping conscious, of which…she slumped over on the passenger side on the way to her home.

Ren didn’t blame her. Today was a tiresome day, and one long night in excess of other long nights would take a mental toll on anyone. Once he had arrived to the residence, so far late into the night that most would be sleeping by now, he tried his best to carry his partner into the complex.

What greeted him on the way in, of course, was Makoto’s older sister, who deliberately left the door open. With a gentle knock, Ren awaited until a soft click of the door opened up entry.

Sae said nothing on the matter, only giving one half-asleep look at Ren and her sister before allowing them in. From the looks of it, she was ready to head back into her district office for another long night of her own. Sae wore subtle bags under her eyes that she was clearly hiding with extensive makeup work, and aside from that, she hadn’t even noticed the small wrinkles in her charcoal custom suit, or the fact that she was all out of sorts heading back in.

Once Ren set Makoto down in a safe spot - not laying down - he deeply exhaled and quietly nodded to Sae. Without much else, he began to leave, only to find that there was a light tug on the hems of his untucked shirt, and this touch would evolve into a deep hug into Sae herself.

“Uh, Sae-san?” Ren whispered so as to not wake up his partner. “What’re you doing?”

“Just…saying thanks,” Sae replied softly. “For always keeping my sister safe and sound.”

She let him go after, only for him to lightly scratch his head. “It’s nothing, really…I mean…she wouldn’t have made it home by herself.”

Sae smiled at it, and forced a laugh. “Still, Amamiya-kun. I feel like you should just take the compliment.”

“You should really get some rest too, you know.” He said, now putting both his hands on Sae’s shoulders. “You look tired.”

“I am tired,” Sae remarked, sighing halfway. “I’ll be alright. I’m going to wash up a little bit, excuse me.” She slid past him to enter the bathroom, then shut the door behind her.

Without much else to say, Ren could only take deep breaths and one more look at his partner, who was sleeping soundly. Even with all that alcohol in her system, she truly was remarkable in not letting the bad side effects get to her. His next focus turned to the clock near the kitchen walls, and he denoted it was almost 1 AM now.

Yet, he lingered in the moment. In a way, this residence could be his home too, should he choose. He glanced over to Makoto again, who now began to naturally slide down to a more comfortable position. As she did however, Ren’s eyes unintentionally focused on a manila folder displayed across the coffee table.

Quietly, he moved over to an unoccupied seat adjacent to Makoto. He slid the manila folder over to his seat, and opened up the folder.

The first file was about a relatively low-tier criminal subjected to a case of robbery of a jewelry store, something that he and Makoto heard about. Sergeant Satonaka cleared that one out, and it was the highlight of her day back at the office, and it was like they’d just caught the head of a terrorist organization. 

Small victories were still, nevertheless, victories, even if it didn’t mean much. It was a way to keep up morale around the office, if nothing else.

As Ren was skimming through the file, his eyes hovered a little longer over something that was amiss, and clearly edited through human hands. This criminal was now deceased, having been overwritten in heavily dark ink. 

Curiously, there was also another page behind the dossier, which he flipped over, revealing the fate of what happened to this individual. What he saw was not something he was prepared for, as his eyes widened and he almost dropped the folder down on the ground in pure terror.

It was a nightmarish image to behold, witnessing the robber’s throat slit violently open in a near perfect angle, almost to the point his jaw was unhinged open. Large amounts of blood pooled below his body, and his eyes remained open to the terror he witnessed, as well as amputated hands placed symbolically at the center of his body. 

Away in the background, Ren could briefly make out a bloodied handprint dripping down one of the walls before a much larger splash of crimson painted the walls on the way down.

The next dossier would not be any easier, as Ren flipped through them, now out of morbid curiosity. Each one, he always read the case report of who it was, and all noticing they were deceased. Often, he prepared his mind for the inevitable.

“What in the hell…?” Ren murmured to himself. Though his brain was telling him to run away from this moment, it was actively absorbing what he was trying to process at the same time. He flipped the page, now greeted with another dossier of a criminal.

This one contained a misdemeanor was a fairly notable hit and run almost two months ago, causing the victim to lose their bottom half functions. They lived, but the cost was the rest of their bright future.

Now, that criminal was found dead on the streets with his bones crushed, a missing shoe tossed far away from the scene, and his head was almost completely decapitated from getting run over by a tire. The car used did not fare any better; its windows were cracked and alarmingly bloodied, with the result being that the body was so misshapen and twisted that the mangled corpse could’ve been mistaken for roadkill.

Ren’s fingers began tingling, yet something compelled him to keep going in spite of his breathing becoming unsteady and his heart rate beating faster. Nervously swallowing, Ren tried his best to steel his nerves, briefly putting the folder down to ball his fists together. After calming down, he gave a quick nod to himself, picking up the folder again.

Yet still, the next one was perhaps the most nightmarish of all.

Another criminal, known for being a pyromaniac, set afire a well known studio building while its residents were unaware. Hailed as one of the most horrific incidents in recent memory, many perished in that fire, but the rest were scarred in more ways than physically that day. 

It was considered one of Japan’s most devastating tragedies, having lost so much unfathomable potential with a heinous act out of sheer malice. The image revealed that his body was now a mixture of rubber and ash, for he had been burnt alive through the method of necklacing. What remained was an inhuman mixture of the tires strapped around his chest and feet, and whatever bones didn’t melt were brittle and charred by the end of it.

The more dossiers he came across, the more gruesome the encounter: For voyeurism, the man’s eyes were now gouged out of his skull and his ears removed, shoved directly into a punctured cavity freshly made with a large blade incision. For sexual abuse, the person was stripped naked, their genitalia cut off, and, even more hideously, their tongues were pulled directly out of their mouths and forcibly sewed where the genitalia used to be.

At the very end of it all, a report from someone who survived an encounter. Aside from the fact none of these people had anything in common besides their felonies, this was the work of someone who was clearly a monster. They couldn’t possibly breathe the same air or feel the same warmth of the sun as other humans would. In their right minds, who could even live with the possibility of committing such atrocities and consider it to be normal?

“In accordance to a testimony by one Mitsuhide Koga, he had been attacked by a mysterious assailant who only wore all black, and had a distinct black surgical mask accompanying them. They could not see who the person was, much less remember any distinct features of the proposed serial killer. Physically, he is alive and will live - but mentally, he is shattered. The person responsible used what we can deduce is a bat as a primary weapon, but was also seen using a bladed weapon, as evidence of Koga’s missing eye and other victims.”

Ren furrowed his eyebrows, having now shut the manila folder in a cold sweat. A sudden thought passed his mind, and one that wasn’t supposed to.

“They’re just criminals. Nobody would mourn for them.”

“Wait,” Ren said aloud, disrupting his own thoughts. “No. That’s not…” He rapidly shook his head, then checked the time again. It was late, and it was probably his mind hallucinating things. He felt a sense of nausea rush over him, now that he sat in silence and could feel the tingling sensation arise again.

He rushed on over to the kitchen, letting the tap run cold water, and briefly, he ran his hands over to feel its chill in order for him to snap back to reality. Cupping his hands, he lapped up some of the water. He started coughing, feeling that urge of nausea rush at him, strength overwhelming.

After some time, Ren cupped his hands again, now gargling it before spitting it out, breathing rather heavily. As the chill continued, he splashed it towards his face and found nearby napkins to dry off with, and after some time, his breathing steadied again.

“Might be time for me to go now,” He whispered to himself, turning around. As he did, Sae opened up the bathroom door, now fully dressed and looking much fresher than she did previously. She took note of him, feeling a little bit energized.

“Are you leaving?” Sae asked. “I hope you don’t mind me tagging along. Nobody’s really going to pick me up at this hour to get to the office either...” She said, “If it’s not too much trouble?”

Nervously, Ren chuckled and leaned his head inwards. “Perfect timing.” He beckoned her to continue as he walked into the hallways. “Let’s go then.”

So it goes, Ren got into the driver’s seat and Sae rode in the passenger’s side. While they got situated, Ren thought back once more to what he read. He quickly glanced over to the prosecutor before him, who seemed aware he was withholding something on his mind.

“What is it, Amamiya-kun?”

He pursed his lips, letting the car idle for all but a moment. “Did Makoto tell you about what was in that manila folder on the table?”

Sae looked back at the building, taking a bit longer to gaze at it, almost as if she wanted to get out and investigate, but then she looked back at Ren. “Unfortunately, yes…although I don’t know what’s in there, she gave me a bit of a scare when she mentioned it was about a serial killer.” She shut the door of the cruiser again shortly afterwards, and then put on her seatbelt. “Did she not mention it to you?”

Ren shook his head, and Sae only hummed. “Just…be careful, okay?” She placed a hand on his lap. “Don’t let it get inside your head.”

With a quick nod, Ren put his foot down on the pedal and began driving. They did not talk to each other after, with Sae only saying her farewells once they approached the prosecutor’s office. Afterwards, Ren drove straight home immediately, watching as the lamplights outside whizz by him. 

Once he got to the apartment complex, having now calmed down, the fatigue began to creep up to him. All other obligations could wait until he was rested, yet there was one more fight before he could put himself at ease.

His eyelids wore heavily upon him, and he could barely register more than two steps ahead of him at any time as the night lingered onwards. As he was ascending the stairs upwards, he stopped midway, looking back at the car. 

“Did I lock it?” lingered in his mind. In truth, he did. For extra safety measures, using the fob, he descended back down and pressed the button to double confirm. With a sigh and some resignation in the effort, Ren stared back at the ascension.

As he entered into his own apartment, Ren slipped off his dress shoes, undoing one before naturally letting the other fall. He almost tripped over his own socks in the process, and then he undid his tie, letting it hang lazily around his neck. Unbuttoning his shirt, Ren contemplated if he’d take a shower, but there was a chance he’d just fall asleep in there. He entered into his own bedroom, and rolled into bed.

As he laid down, however, the thoughts of what he saw at Makoto’s home didn’t leave his mind. He stared at the ceiling momentarily, thinking prominently about the charred body and the imagery that was now painted in his mind. Did he really consider this to be a good thing?

No. It can’t be. That’s just…horrible. Nobody should go out like that. He thought to himself. He could never rationalize that. Criminal or not, nobody deserved to go through with that. Before long, the fatigue overtook him, and he shut his eyes.

Chapter Text

“Nearly all men can withstand adversity, but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.” - Abraham Lincoln

January 15th, 20XX
Morning
Ren's Apartment

By the time morning arrived, Ren awoke, still tired from the night prior. He opened his heavy eyelids and sighed deeply, noting that the sun had arisen. As he got up, he checked his phone that was still in his suit pocket, and noted that several calls were being made through text. Mindlessly, he scrolled through it, only to find that it was merely repeat messages:

“All units, please come to the SIU Building by no later than 10 AM. This is a direct order. Please do not arrive in uniform.”

There was still time, as Ren checked the time following, and it being 8 AM. Enough time for breakfast, morning rituals, and picking up his partner from her own residence. Outside, he saw light snowfalls make way.

Thus, Ren went over to his closet and picked an appropriate outfit - a long black blazer that stretched down to his knees, accompanying an equally black wool turtleneck. For pants, he chose one that matched the look: Black cargo trousers with a silver chain dangling to one side, and subtle utility pockets all around. Lastly, he picked some leather high tops for comfortability and ease of traversal should the snow get too lengthy, and set aside a pair of black gloves to go with the outfit.

For now, he picked up the remaining pieces of his uniform - socks, slacks, and shirt, placing them in a laundry bin for later tonight. All that was left was his underwear, which he changed accordingly as he made his way to the shower.

After his shower, Ren looked to eat something light - perhaps some simple scrambled eggs and miso soup would have sufficed for now, he’d get something with Makoto later. As he cooked his own meal, he second-guessed his choice of outfit, observing the outside once again - the weather was clearing up, and it was getting a little warmer if his weather app on the phone was correct.

In lieu of his blazer and turtleneck, he hung it up for something else to contrast all the black he was wearing, opting instead for a simple white sweater, which he dawned alongside the rest of his attire sans shoes. As he was about to return to cooking, his phone rang, and Makoto’s name was the caller. He picked up.

“Hey. You sleep well?” He asked.

“Yeah…until my phone started buzzing.”

“Yeah.” He repeated back to her. “Hey, I’ll swing by after breakfast and we can head down to the station.”

“Oh? What’re you eating?” Makoto asked him.

“Something light. Just some soup and scrambled eggs. I was thinking, you wanna go back to Cafe Leblanc later?”

“Yeah,” Makoto repeated once more. “Maybe after whatever they want from us ends.”

“Plan’s a plan then,” Ren chuckled, then hung up the phone. He poured the contents of the pan into a plate, and with that, he hurriedly finished his meal, got his shoes on, and made an exit after submerging the plate in water.

January 15th, 20XX
Late Morning
SIU Office Building Conference Room

Ren entered the room first, opening the door for Makoto. It seems that in her stupor waking up, she completely ignored the fact she didn’t have to wear a uniform. She just instinctively did it anyway, and she was alone on that front. Everybody surrounding them in the conference room wore something casual, or otherwise something for the cold weather.

They did not mind, because the meeting was about to begin. Several members of the force were entrenched around the room, each sitting down in a respective chair awaiting the director. Even Naoto was here, albeit she seemed indisposed with another investigation. Whatever the case may be, there had to be a good reason for several members of Tokyo Metropolitan to be here.

Once everybody got situated, the room lights dimmed down as an older man stepped into the room and onto the podium. Behind him, a projector lit up, displaying pure white behind.

“Good morning,” The SIU Director addressed everyone. “I’m going to skip pleasantries because what I’m about to divulge is not to leave this room,” he explained.

Suddenly, the projector flipped to several case notes about criminals that had been apprehended within the past few months. Some of which, once Ren took note, were the ones that he read last night.

“It has come to our attention that there has been an alarming cause for concern that’s been unfolding in the past few weeks,” The director continued, speaking without restraint. “And I’m sure most of these faces, you have seen them. After all, each and every single one of you apprehended them.”

The next projector slide popped up, focusing on the first dossier target Ren read.

“As for the…cause for concern…” The director said, trailing off. “It’s not for the faint of heart, I’m afraid.”

The image of the criminal and his wounds - the slit throat, the blood, everything, was on display. The room fell into hushed whispers and gasps as everybody was trying to take in the same feelings Ren felt. As for him, re-evaluating the moment was no less dire. Makoto, who had been in possession of the manila folder and sat next to Ren, took note of it and lightly placed a hand on his lap.

The next projector slides did the same in rhythm and flow of how Ren saw it - the decapitated criminal, the charred man. Gouged eyes, the missing genitals. Even revisiting it now, he couldn’t stomach it much further. In some morbid way, he fared better than most other officers who already stepped out until they were told to come back in.

“If I knew you, you’d already seen these before, am I right?” She whispered to him so as to not interrupt the flow of the meeting. All she saw in exchange was Ren painfully nodding. She pursed her lips and briefly closed her eyes. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Now,” The director raised his voice in order to maintain control of the situation, “This should not be taken lightly. You know now that in the past several weeks, a serial killer has been on the loose, I am very sorry to say. For what we’ve gathered and as I am sure you have all deduced, this killer is targeting only criminals.”

A higher-pitched, almost shrill female voice echoed from the back. “And what if they end up targeting more than just criminals?! What if innocent people are next?! What about us?!”

It was Chie, expressing her concerns. Given the status quo, she was rightfully concerned - especially after what unfolded in Inaba several years ago. Naoto quietly pulled her back into her seat, before taking the stand.

“What Sergeant Satonaka means to ask is,” Naoto began to say, “what if this serial killer is more than meets the eye?”

The director, having now turned on the lights with a clap of his hands, readjusted his posture and nodded. “I understand you and Sergeant Satonaka’s concerns, but --”

“And who’s to say they won’t kill again, or are already killing now?” An older voice rang out from the same back row. Many of the officers around him whispered indistinctly, and Ren took a closer look. Even without knowing who the man was directly, for they’d never met, he knew that this person was supposed to have retired already. Yet, he was likely asked to be here under encouragement from Detective Shirogane. “What’s their motive?”

“Unknown,” the director spoke. “Everything we could gather seems unsolvable, Detective Dojima. They leave no trace, no known motivation.” He gripped his fists tightly. “Absolutely nothing, not even a bone to throw at us. From one exact eyewitness report, we can only give them a designation.”

“And what would that be? What do we name this oh-so heroic vigilante?” Another male voice called out, this time being Akihiko.

Several other members gave quiet, disconcerting exchanges of looks to each other.

“The only thing we are aware of is that the killer wears all black, uses all black weaponry, and wears a surgical mask, also black. It can be safely assumed then, that we dub the killer, The Black Mask.” The director declared, and the room fell silent.

The Black Mask. The name repeated back into Ren’s mind. For as long as he was on the force, he never could’ve imagined that today would be the day that potentially, his services would be required. He glanced over to Makoto and gave her a knowing look, one that she glanced back on and nodded, almost approvingly with a soft smile of hers.

The SIU director cleared his throat. “This is a matter of utmost urgency. I will need all hands on deck for this, and I would personally like to assign a few distinguished members in the same room with us to this case.”

He extended his hand out, making one bold declaration. “Inspector Akihiko Sanada. Sergeant Chie Satonaka. Detective Naoto Shirogane, and…” His gaze glanced over to the general direction of Ren and Makoto, who looked just about ready to accept. “Detective Makoto Niijima.”

Ren exhaled, then looked over to Makoto again. He bit his lower lip, having now felt a strange betrayal. This would be the first time he and Makoto would be separated for an incident, and Makoto knew that as well. As she was about to stand up and protest, Naoto interrupted her.

“My sincerest apologies, director,” Naoto spoke, “As much as I would love to investigate this matter, I must respectfully decline my position at this time.”

Every single officer in the room turned around and gave Naoto a look of exasperation, including the director himself.

His mouth was agape, and he leaned his head towards Naoto. “May I understand your reasonings for withdrawal?” He questioned.

Naoto bowed out of courtesy. “As you can clearly see, Detective Ryotaro Dojima is with us,” she said, before certain officers randomly began clapping for Dojima’s sake, and he scratched his head, raising his other hand to implore them to stop. “It does not mean he has returned to the force. Rather, he and I have a personal matter to attend to back in Inaba.”

With that in mind now, Naoto moved herself over to where Ren was sitting, and stood right behind him. Ren looked up from his seat, yet Naoto paid him no mind. Instead, she put her arms around the shoulder rests of the chair. “If I may, I would like to elect Detective Ren Amamiya on the case in my stead.”

And now, Ren felt foolish for thinking his time wouldn’t come. He stood up from his chair to address Naoto, wordlessly whispering, “Are you serious?” to her. She only smiled and nodded. She mouthed back, ‘You earned it’ to him.

“Hrm.” The director muttered. “I suppose, if it’s under your recommendations…then fine. Detective Ren Amamiya, you and Detective Makoto Niijima are on the case.”

He turned back around to address the SIU director now, bowing deeply also in courtesy. “Thank you for the honor,” he said. “I’ll do my best.”

“Then,” The director clapped his hands once more. “This meeting is adjourned. And remember: Not a single word about this to anybody else outside of this room.”

Several people began emptying out of the conference room, leaving only the members of the task force inside. They all gathered amongst each other, and addressed one another with nods.

“Looks like we’re all working together now, eh?” Akihiko remarked, laughing. “Never thought it’d come to this.”

“Well, I certainly miss the days when you and I were on the same team, too!” Chie commented back.

“It’s an unfortunate shame Detective Shirogane couldn’t be a part of this, though,” Makoto interjected. “She would’ve made a huge difference, I feel.”

Ren remained silent out of the bunch, only nodding.

“I guess Inaba comes first.” Makoto finished.

“As it should,” Chie replied. “Plus, I’d have gone if I didn’t use up all my time off…ugh.”

Akihiko slapped Chie’s shoulder to reassure her. “You miss Yukiko already?” he joked.

“Oh c’mon, Aki, you’ve been to Amagi Inn! What’s not to miss?!”

They both laughed, and Makoto lightly chuckled with Ren smiling. After a few moments, Ren shifted his eyes over to the exit. “Much as I’d love to catch up, Makoto and I do have an appointment to take care of.”

“Is it a date?” Chie slyly remarked. “You two lovebirds are slipping away already.”

That comment left Makoto flushing a deep shade of red, and Ren needing to refocus back. “Huh?” The both of them exclaimed.

“Nothing of the sort!” Makoto interrupted. “We’re partners, it’s what partners do!”

“Chie, you’ve known us for well over a year. If we’ve dated, then you would’ve known!” Ren said, continuing on from Makoto’s own protests.

“Sounds like lovey-dovey birds, then.” Akihiko continued on with the joke, chuckling.

“No. No, you shut up.” Ren said, pointing back at him. “We’re leaving.”

Ren made a quick exit out of the room, with Makoto in tow not too far behind. She hadn’t even said a word to the others after that. Nothing upon exiting the building, nothing upon getting into the police cruiser. Nothing even, as they were driving back to Yongen-Jaya.

January 15th, 20XX
Afternoon
Cafe Leblanc

The shopkeeper’s bell twinkled as Ren and Makoto entered inside the cafe, with the scent of coffee breathing life into its atmosphere. Calming jazz music played, and the cafe appeared relatively empty despite it being the lunch hour. Makoto took her seat at one of the booths, and Ren propped himself up near the counter. Nobody was around at the moment, though he was certain someone would service them in a few. If Boss wasn’t around, then obviously…he was out for cigarettes.

It would’ve been some time since the two of them returned here, past their inaugural partnership day when Ren made first landfall here. It was perhaps the coziest environment he’d ever been in, and it was saying a lot because he valued this kind of silence all to himself. If not for the fact he was a working member and a civil servant of society, he could’ve easily seen himself working behind a cafe much like this as a barista in his time, maybe it was wishful thinking.

He stared around the area, watching Makoto loosen up her tie underneath a dim, yet warming light. Over in the opposite corner, he saw a pot of curry simmer, lightly giving off its delicately spicy fragrance in the air, mixing alongside the scent of coffee beans.

Not long after, the shopkeeper’s bell twinkled again, causing Makoto and Ren to look at the source and who was coming in.

Instead of who they assumed it would be, a relatively short woman with orange colored hair, tied back in an unkempt ponytail with side bangs was seen. Around her neck carried a pair of red headphones, and she wore a muted olive green cotton shirt, hidden behind a pinstriped apron, and a comfortable, charcoal pair of sweatpants, and a pair of fluffy pink slippers.

Her face suffered a weathered look to it for the day, with subtle eye bags underneath her light brown eyes, which were adorned with hilariously large spectacles. She yawned loudly, letting herself stretch as she went back into the cafe. Though it was pretty apparent she wasn’t in the zone, she paid absolutely no attention to the fact she even had customers inside. Instead, the woman lazily walked over back to the counter, briefly letting her eyes rest.

Ren could only glance back at Makoto and silently laugh at this, of which Makoto also was trying to cover her mouth to prevent any noise from coming out from her own laughter.

Just as the woman took a deep breath in, Ren stood up and calmly walked over so he could face parallel to her. “Futaba?” he called out. Only a small moan from Futaba was all he received. “Futaba-chan.” He repeated, and she moaned once again.

“Alibaba!” Ren said in a raised voice, almost enough to give anybody a surprise.

“Eh?” Futaba’s stance jolted up, indicating that Ren was successful, and she tumbled backwards, almost knocking over some coffee bean jars behind her, eyes widening as parts of her glasses slipped down her face. “Who--What?”

After readjusting herself and her frames, Futaba found herself face-to-face with Ren, and she blushed out of embarrassment. “Oh my god, Ren! I’m so sorry!”

Makoto raised her hand out from the corner of her own booth. “Aren’t you forgetting someone?” She called out in a chipper tune, enough for Futaba to know who it was.

“Oh my fucking god, I am so sorry you guys,” She covered her face and crouched down into the counter. “I’ve gotten 4 hours of sleep. I’m a wreck, you can clearly tell…”

“We know.” Ren reaffirmed, chuckling. “We won’t stay too long. Where’s Boss though?”

“Sojiro?” Futaba asked, removing her hands from her face. “He’s um, he’s out with someone. Date day or, something.” She huffed and crossed her arms, still in a fetal position on the floor. “Anyway, they left me behind, so I could manage and take care of this cafe and…” She groaned loudly and got back up from her position of misery. “I hate being an adult. I’m beginning to think smoking’s a cheat code if Sojiro makes it an active lifestyle choice.”

“Well, it is your dad’s cafe. We love it here, so it shouldn’t be too hard, right?” Ren asked. “And besides, don’t get into smoking. You’re doing great as is, Futaba-chan.”

“What’ll you have?” Futaba said, half-heartedly.

“We’ll just take our usuals.” Makoto said from her booth.

“And what, exactly, are your usuals?” Futaba asked immediately, but then she remembered, and sighed again. She rubbed her temple out of exhaustion. “I would’ve thought taking a brisk walk around the block would reboot my system, all it did was make me more tired…”

She groaned and took out a notebook for orders, putting down a tall cup of Crystal Mountain for Ren and an SHB for Makoto, and then a mildly spicy curry for the both of them. “Comin’ right up.”

Ren smiled and nodded, now satisfied that they could place their order. He went over to where Makoto was sitting in her booth, and took a seat across from her, taking in the ambience of the cafe once again.

Running parallel to their booth, he saw the same wall clock he remembered first stepping inside: Always ticking with its pendulum swinging back and forth. Behind him, the TV was on, and although it was muted, subtitles were being shown.

Ren did not exactly catch what the news was playing, but he did take note of minor politician Masayoshi Shido making an appearance on national television in an interview. Though he paid no mind to it, reading the subtitles gave a small clue as to what Shido was talking about, thoughts of reformation of the Diet and a severe downturn in economic growth should it fail.

His eyes drifted over to the clock again, having pivoted back - something else caught his attention: An intricate painting of a woman in a red blouse holding a baby. Was that always there? He wasn’t certain.

He lightly tapped Makoto’s shoulder. “Hey,” he whispered. “Was that always there?” He pointed over to where it was, just in the corner. Makoto looked, now entranced by its allure as well.

“No,” Makoto replied back, scooting out of the booth. “This must be new.” Ren followed suit, standing up to admire the painting closer with his partner.

“Futaba,” Ren called out, looking to his left. Her head popped out from the kitchen area. “Was this painting new?”

She shrugged, expressing a certain frustration by slapping the air upwards. “How should I know? I’m barely here most days outside of my own free curry and coffee!”

“You mean to tell me you’ve never looked over in the corner and found a woman and a baby?”

“Ren, I’m not exactly the most perceptive person outside of my safe space, so don’t ask me, ask Sojiro later!” She called back before getting back to prepping their curry. “Yeesh, for all I know, he got it at a flea market…”

Suddenly, several pots clanged down on the ground as the sound of rushing footsteps was heard. Futaba appeared right next to Ren and, in a moment of clarity, she felt like a completely different person who just woke up.

“Wait wait wait! I’ve seen this before! This is from that one guy who came by - blue hair, lanky looking dude, paint on his collar. Four or five months ago. Just said he wanted us to have it - no idea why. Can’t explain someone’s motivations if I never met them. Sojiro said he loved it, wanted to hang it here, and…”

A pregnant silence.

“...And?” Makoto asked, breaking the quiet.

“Uhm,” Futaba shook her head. “What was I saying?”

“You were telling us some tall guy with blue hair came in and gave you this painting.”

“Right, right…” Futaba sighed. “Sorry, as I was saying, Sojiro got it. Loved it. Wanted to pay the guy but he just…disappeared.”

“I think you need coffee more than us, Futaba.” Ren commented in jest.

“You mean restart the computer and get back some lost RAM? Yeah, obvs. That’s called a nap, and caffeine ain’t fixing that right now.”

Without much else to comment on the otherwise beautiful painting, Makoto and Ren returned to their seats and politely waited. Just as the silence in the cafe began again and the jazz music resumed, Makoto lightly sniffed the air.

“Anyone else smell smoke…?” She asked, slightly worried.

A light scent of smoke permeated the air now, disrupting what was once a beautiful symphony of spice and caffeine. Futaba’s eyes shot open wide as she stamped both of her feet. “Shit, shit, SHIT!” She ran back, almost tumbling over one of the wooden barstools. “THE CURRY!” Futaba yelled out, reaching the kitchen again. Then, she let out a squeaking whimper.

Makoto and Ren exchanged confused looks before ignoring it. After all, it was Futaba’s problem now - she was the cook, not them.

It didn’t take long for Ren to take the reins once more of the conversation. The silence for the car ride over here crept back up to him, and Makoto was a little preoccupied with checking her phone. She presented one hand innocently laid out on the table, almost inviting him to do something about it. Ren lightly brushed his hand over hers, to which caught Makoto off-guard.

“So…” He began softly, almost in a hushed whisper. “Dating, huh?”

Makoto’s face flushed slightly before she pulled her hand away. “N-No, nothing of the sort!” She said, repeating herself from earlier. “Don’t be roped into the joke too, Ren…”

“I’m not,” He responded, pulling his hand back as well. “I’m just wondering what they see.”

She coughed and looked away from him, and then lightly kicked his shin. “I mean…we’re always seen together at the office. It’s natural we’re partners, and…w-w-well,”

“Partners.” Ren reaffirmed. “You think Akihiko and Chie are just hiding the fact they’re dating, too?”

“Oh hell no, I would hope not…” Makoto rolled her eyes, almost forgetting she was embarrassed just a few moments ago. “Protein’s their true love, that and crazy amounts of exercise. I love adrenaline as much as the next girl, b-but…”

Makoto stammered, twiddling with her index fingers now. Whatever she was thinking, be it all the times Ren drove her back home drunk, or vice versa when Ren exhausted himself and needed Makoto’s help to get home safely, or all the in-betweens they could not say, it all swirled in a whirlwind of emotions Ren could not read.

“...it’s not like that. Not at all.”

“I really do think Aki and Chie are something similar,” Ren interrupted her train of thought. ”And you never know, they could be eating meat bowls on date nights.”

Makoto couldn’t help but laugh at that thought, before she deeply exhaled and steepled her hands. “Yeah, no. Let them think we are, maybe it’s just projection.”

Ren smiled at the thought before scooting out of the booth. “I’m gonna use the bathroom real quick.” She nodded, then peered out over to where Futaba was. She was busy pouring three cups of coffee on top of a big platter that preemptively three plates of curry ready.

Ren stepped away into the bathroom as Futaba finished up, and she came over in an instant.

“And done!” Futaba announced, skillfully carrying over three plates of curry over to their table. Without even permission, Futaba put three plates down - one for Makoto, one for herself in the middle, semi-burnt, and one for Ren. She promptly set the cups of coffee down as well, and then put the platter aside on the counter opposite of them. “I hope you don’t mind?”

“Not at all, Futaba-chan!” Makoto grinned. “I’m sure he’d appreciate more company.”

“Sweet,” Futaba replied in kind, rubbing her hands together. “Chow time!”

It wouldn’t take long before Ren returned from the bathroom, hooking his glasses in-between his white sweater collar. As soon as he exited, he noted that Futaba was sitting in-between him and Makoto. He tilted his head to the side, making his way back.

“Took my advice?” Ren said, interrupting whatever conversation they were having. His focus turned over to the hot plate of curry in front of him as he licked his lips in anticipation. “How much social battery is this giving you now?”

“Shut up, dude,” Futaba commanded, rolling her eyes. “You got two girls sitting together with you eating lunch! Enjoy it!”

Ren took his seat and picked up his spoon. “Yeah, two cute girls. I didn’t say I hated it, now did I?”

“Oh, you are just too kind, Detective Amamiya,” Futaba said sarcastically, lightly chopping his forehead with her hand. “Don’t flatter me like that, mister!”

He chuckled, raising up his hands again to shield him from any potential dangers lest Futaba do more than force a jab at him. He slowly ate his first bite of curry, lightly savoring the mixture of warm rice, mild sweetness, and just a beautifully comforting sensation of onions, apples, and spices culminating together. As he ate, noticed the steam still emitting out of the dish with a soft smile. One bite led to another, and then another.

Time flowed slowly, and conversations remained indistinct as Ren tuned everything out just to enjoy this moment. Then…his mind briefly flashed back to what happened earlier, and last night. 

The charred remains. The grotesque, malformed body. Mutilated, desiccated. Reduced to ruin.

How he connected the steaming plate of curry to the remains, he didn’t know. He lost his appetite momentarily, briefly taking a sip of coffee to help stimulate it again. 

Just then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted someone at the shopkeeper’s door. As he peered out from the booth, he remembered that he did seen this person before. In fact, it was the woman from last night that he failed to catch. How she was here, he did not know.

Raising his eyebrow, Ren stood up from his seat, his eyes and his physique catching the attention of the woman. Knowing she was caught, the woman ran away from the door, with Ren extending his hand out.

“What’s wrong?” Makoto asked, with Futaba staring on. He didn’t respond, and he just stood there.

“Ren?” Futaba asked. “What’s wrong?” She repeated.

“I think I just saw that girl that we didn’t catch from last night.”

Confused, Makoto scooted out from her booth to look at the shopkeeper’s door, but nobody was there. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” he said, gesturing over to the door by pointing at it with his thumb. ”I’m gonna go investigate real quick if you don’t mind?”

“If you can handle it, then yeah.” Makoto said, scooting back into her original spot before giving a coy little smirk. “But if you aren’t back within 15 minutes, I’m taking your curry.”

“You better not,” Ren said, slightly smiling. “I’ll be back soon.”

“If you take 10 I’m stealing your coffee to sustain me.” Futaba commented, smirking. Ren only responded by raising his hand up to wave at the both of them before heading out.

With that, Ren made his exit out to the streets of Yongen-Jaya again, letting the bell twinkle one last time. He went out to the main street from where he saw the woman jet off, and in the distance, he saw her look back at him, then she turned around and ran.

This again? Really?

Ren sighed and started sprinting in the general direction of the woman. The streets were winding and not exactly spacious to be around, its difficulty only hindering his ability to catch up. Just when he thought he got her cornered, the woman would find another way out, and lead him elsewhere. Eventually, he’d just find himself running back to Cafe Leblanc’s entrance in a complete circle, yet he refused to give up this time around.

Just as Ren was about to turn the corner once more, he was stopped by a burly man standing in his way. With messy and long hair, and an unbuttoned shirt, he displayed a ferociously athletic body before him.

“Please get out of the way sir,” Ren said calmly. “I’m an officer of the law…”

“Well ain’t that cute,” the burly man responded, forcibly bumping into Ren. “And what if I don’t?”

Ren huffed slightly before responding to this challenge. “Then, I’ll have to arrest you.” He said, reaching back to his pocket - only to find out, he wasn’t in uniform. Nor did he even have handcuffs on him.

“Ain’t that right?” A voice called from behind him. It was a tall and slender man, with obviously dyed blonde hair and looking crazy eyed. He was now sandwiched between the two, unable to make any moves front or back. Once he turned around to face the burly man, he suddenly felt a sharp prick behind him.

“Don’t make a fuckin’ noise now, lil’ piggy.” The man behind him spoke. It was a knife being placed behind Ren’s back, and now he began sweating. “Keep movin’ with us nice an’ steady now.” The man behind him ordered, almost poking into Ren’s white sweater with force.

Shit. I’m trapped.

“Look, there’s obviously been a --” The man behind him once again poked the knife into Ren’s back, forcing him to remain silent.

“Shut up if ya know what’s good for ya.”

He was forced to comply. The burly man in front of him now turned around, helping to guide Ren to where they were taking him. Nobody in Yongen-Jaya’s streets were currently outside to notice this happening in broad daylight.

Yet again, Ren looked uneasy at this revelation. He was getting kidnapped, and there was a car awaiting their arrival at the far end of the street. As he was walking along, Ren suddenly felt a strong blunt object hit him from behind, and he lost consciousness immediately.

???, 20XX
???
???

When Ren came to, he had a raging headache to contend with. From what he could gather in the moment, he was currently strapped tightly to a chair, with no real way of getting his restraints off, and his feet were bound to the chair as well. He opened his eyes, but it did not do anything to help alleviate the darkness he was currently in. From what he could feel, there was a bag over his head, making it hard for him to breathe.

He tried looking around to see if he could make anything out, and most of it was darkness alongside a pale light shining above him. He tried to move parts of his body, only to find that they were hurting. It would seem, from what he could feel in the moment, they had beaten him up while he was unconscious in an effort to get him to wake up.

In the silence, he took the time to figure out if there were any other noises aside from the hum of the light from above, and his own breathing. If he could concentrate, he could vaguely hear the sound of something pounding against the wall, and some moaning, notably pleasurable moaning.

The sound of a door opened, giving way to louder moans and a pair of footsteps approaching. The door shut briefly, and a loud exhale was heard. From the way things were going, he was basically hearing the sounds of intense sex across the room.

“Hey. You’re awake now.” A vaguely familiar voice called to him. “Hey!” He repeated, now opening the door. “Fucker’s awake!”

The moaning stopped after a moment of satisfaction, and more footsteps came out. Abruptly, the bag over Ren’s head was taken off, and the flood of light almost blinded him. His first look into his surroundings were now apparent, yet his focus was turned to the woman before him now, clearly reeking of booze and looking disheveled. Her shirt, previously buttoned when they met for the first time at Yongen-Jaya’s streets, was now clearly unbuttoned and still exposing her body, yet she didn’t seem to care about flaunting it to Ren.

“He’s it, right?” The burly man asked, zipping up his pants.

“This is the fuckwit who put my babe in prison alright.” She answered bluntly. “And you two got your reward already, so don’t tell him when he’s out, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah,” The slender man said. “Some good pussy you got there, Emi-chan!” He laughed, before coming up to slap her ass.

“Hey hey, come on now,” Emi-chan said, slapping away his hand. “You’ll get more later once we deal with him.”

“How about we work on the back pipes at the same time after?” He asked coyly before laughing, and the burly man also laughed.

It was rather apparent that in the time it took for him to regain consciousness, these two men effectively got high off of their own supply of booze, drugs, and whatever else they ingested. They were moving in a way that was erratic in nature as they were cackling wildly at him. He remained silent in his chair, but then the burly man approached him, leaning real close to Ren’s purview.

“I got a real good idea! How ‘bout we fuck him too?”

Ren tried to back away from the man, whose breath stank heavily of booze.

This only continued the laughter from the three. “How ‘bout it Emi-chan? You feel good taking in another dick? Or…maybe you wanna see him take both of ours?”

“Your choice,” Emi-chan said boldly. “Anything to make him hurt.” she said, giving a wicked chortle afterwards.

“Aww, look at him! You can see him poppin’ a semi at the thought!” The slender man commented, but it clearly wasn’t true.

Without warning, the man then began getting uncomfortably close to Ren’s legs. He was tracing his fingers closely, trying to emulate a touch interested in…more. He could feel a sensual touch on his penis before it receded. Just a kiss, a small taste. Nothing more. Ren’s toes curled in uncomfortability as a bead of sweat ran down his temples. He felt like a toy in the moment, utterly dehumanized. In order to maintain composure, he opted to disregard these feelings and furrow his eyebrows.

 As the man was reaching into Ren’s zipper, he took the opportunity to headbutt him, almost making himself fall over in the chair, with the result being that the man stumbled backwards.

“Fucker! He hit me!”

Ren exhaled calmly, flipping his focus back to the other two. “You know you’re--”

He did not get the chance to comment back at them not to touch him like that, fist now slamming across his face, and he recoiled from the damage, and now he could only smell and taste warm and metallic iron. Blood began falling profusely down from his nose. Without warning after, he felt a swift blow to his stomach, forcing air out of his lungs, forcing him to spray the dark red liquid out of his mouth.

“You oughta shut the fuck up pretty boy,” The burly man said loudly. “Who’re you to decide we can or can’t do shit?”

“It’s not -- AGHH-!” 

Pain tore his momentum asunder, with a blade stabbed directly into his thigh before it retreated just as quickly, dragging a blood trail with it out of Ren’s leg. Throughout this, he noticed the slender man disappeared from his sights, and his restraints were loosening, almost as if he was being freed. It didn’t matter.

He had no opportunity to stand, and once he tried, his knees buckled at the sensation of pain rolling upwards his body. Another kick smashed directly into his temple, and Ren was sent flying backwards from his chair. He was caught off balance, now facing the fluorescent light above. The light began flickering in response, although he couldn’t tell if that was his sight, or the light itself. Disoriented, he could feel more blood start to pour out from his orifices - nose, mouth. A warm wetness emerged from his temples as his breathing turned unsteady, the unrelenting violence would not end here. He saw three silhouettes encompass his field of vision before a solid kick was rendered upon his face once more.

Ren tried his best to cover his face with his hands, letting them take the brunt of the damage. Incessant kicking urged his body to scream out in pain, as he laid, haplessly defending against a barrage of boots raining down upon his form. In-between the blows, a thought rose up from his mind.

What did I even do to deserve this? Why am I getting beaten up for doing the right thing?

He didn’t know how long his beating would last, and each time the pain only intensified before he could feel nothing but bruises. Seconds felt like minutes, until what felt like torrential rain steadily receded into nothingness.

The criminals were breathless, panting any chance they could get at the satisfaction Ren was now down and potentially out.

“He ain’t dead…but he’ll wish he was.” The woman said, taking in a breath in-between. “It’s what he fuckin’ gets…”

Ren remained motionless on the floor. One eye was swollen shut, with the other resisting an opening, fearing if he even dared look at them, the beating would continue. Slowly, he trudged upright, using the fallen chair for support. “I’m sorry,” he uttered, voice rasping. “Please, just let me go.”

He did not open his eyes for it, but he could tell they were still catching their breath. Ren felt his back up against the counter behind him, now nowhere to truly run.

The burly man proceeded to light a cigarette up, having pulled out a carton from his pocket and a lighter too. He proceeded to blow smoke directly into Ren’s face.

“Looks painful, donnit?” He said, completely ignoring Ren’s pleas. “And I bet you’re thinkin’ we’ll call an ambulance, huh?”

“Sure, yeah, let’s call it at that…” Ren played along, whispering.

“Fat fuckin’ chance, pig.” He said, slapping Ren directly. “You could snitch on us, and suddenly, we’ll be joinin’ her boyfriend in jail. Can’t let that happen now, can we?”

“He’s a cop, ain’t he? He’ll snitch anyway.” The slender man chimed in.

“He won’t if he’s got a dick in his mouth.” The burly man joked, once more.

“How about we just kill him?” The woman suggested. “Be easier.”

Ren was now staring in dread as the three criminals before him were staring relentlessly. They all flashed a sinister grin across their faces. Then, and only then, did his one good eye crack open so he could take in their expressions. The consideration was enough. He raised his hands in defense. He tried to raise his voice, just to get the message across.

“I won’t snitch! I promise! Just let me go!”

“Oh yeah?” The burly man said, now crouching down. “Look at this fuckin’ clown, now he’s awake! Now he realizes he’s fucked! You got any other good lies in that mouth of yours ‘fore we kill ya?!”

“I…”

The woman stepped in closer, her gaze boring directly into his own. “You feel it now? How helpless my man felt? Tell me, did you let him go?

Because of his own civic duty, he was about to get brutally murdered for it. The mere thought caused the tingling sensation he felt last night come up again, panic in full effect. He wasn’t ready to die at this moment, and in his head he was pleading - begging - for some miracle to happen.

Please, god…

Please! Anyone!

In a vast swarm of thoughts, one rang out in prevalence above:

“Someone, please! I don’t want to die…it’s these criminals! They need to fucking DIE!”

From the background, a sudden series of knocks were heard. This raised an alarm for everybody within the room, Ren included. He retreated further back into the corner with whatever strength he could muster whilst the criminals were preoccupied.

“The fuck?” The woman exclaimed, turning around. “Who’s knocking?”

“No damn clue,” The burly man said, standing back up. “If I had to guess, you did mention a whore arrested your boyfriend, yeah?”

Makoto…? 

Was she really here? 

Did she find out that he was missing for too long and managed to find a trail leading to him…?

“You think it’s her?” The slender man asked as a follow-up. “Well, how ‘bout we fuck her senseless then?”

No… 

Don’t… 

Please…!

Confidently, the burly man liked that idea. He took a hold of the slender man’s knife, who willingly handed it over.

“Poor girl’s gonna piss her pants when I stab her real quick.” He declared, laughing almost maniacally at it. “So come on then! C’mere and suck my fucking --”

Sharp shards penetrated through the door as it broke, followed up with the sound of an aluminum bat that reverberated heavily against the burly man’s head, and a loud squelch was the aftermath. “...Cooo…ck…” 

The burly man fell onto his knees with the knife clanging haplessly out of his hands.

“FUUUUCK!” He screamed, covering his face where the bat was struck.

The room fell silent. From the shadows, a pair of heavy boots was heard slowly approaching, the sounds of leather wrinkling with each step against the clinking of glass beneath. The knife then clanged once more as it was pushed away by the mysterious individual’s foot, almost deliberately. Out of the darkness, a person in pure black attire stood, silently, taking a good look at her next victims.

From what he could initially see, Ren noted that the person had alluring, distinctly feminine eyes. He might’ve been mistaken to think they were gentle, if a little weary. In the moment that his eyes met up with theirs, it became apparent: These were not the eyes of a gentle woman out to rescue him. Rather, they were the eyes of a nocturnal predator who just found their next prey.

Ren gazed longingly at the person, thereafter, his one eye widening as he realized who it was, and he felt his entire heart skip a beat. As he observed in silence, he noted that the person had light brown hair down to their neck. Their face was obscured by a pure black surgical mask, and they were wearing full bodied attire he couldn’t quite make out from the shadows. His breathing returned to unsteadiness, with a chill running up his spine.

The entire room began to feel an unnatural cold at this person’s presence.

As if on cue, the woman pulled down their surgical mask, letting it cover their chin instead. Beneath it curled a slight smirk, just enough that it tread the line between innocent and impish.

Staring back at them, having now revealed themselves, was a beautiful woman. Her eyes, shining under the fluorescent light, reflected back a dark brown…or rather, was it scarlet? 

He could not tell. What was for certain however, as she approached, was that she was wearing a ripped black cloak covering most of her upper body, held together by a hoodie that was down, a dark leather jacket alongside a black compression shirt, black leather gloves, and a utilitarian pair of cargo pants, also black.

“Well, well, well,” The mysterious woman spoke, with her voice being one filled with a calming, yet silky tune to it. She lightly giggled after. “That looked absolutely painful.”

“W-what the fuck?” The slender man exclaimed in a panic. The woman could do nothing but stare in awe, before speaking up.

“What are you doing?”

The mystery woman’s smirk turned into a knowing grin, all whilst giggling again. She slowly angled her head towards Emi-chan. “What does it look like?” She said, letting the baseball bat in her hands dangle. “I’m here to cave all of your skulls in.”

The phrase was uttered with such impassivity that Ren crawled up in his corner further.

“Y-you…!” The slender man said, now grabbing his knife from the floor, approaching the mystery woman. “You’re fucking with us!”

He began rushing at her, her stance remaining unflinching. She moved - quick, precise, inhuman - then, like wood snapping, the noise of bone meeting steel echoed around the room.

The slender man wailed, now clutching his limb. “S-She…! She broke my FUCKING ARM!”

He backed off. The woman approached, one foot in front of the other, unblinking. Emi-chan took a step back, now shuddering.

“G-get the fuck away from me!” He stammered out.

Too late. A sickening crunch sang across the room. Red liquid bursted out of his fractured skull. Then, a hollow clang of the knife followed.

The burly man lunged, having now found his stride and a beer bottle. She glided, almost mirage-like, bypassing his strength. A quiet dink followed, matching intensities.

He collapsed back on his knees.

“W-wait, WAIT!”

Another chorus of metal meeting bones followed. She swung, harsh yet rapid. Cold metal meeting flesh, brutalistic rhythm in motion.

Emi-chan blindly charged, making contact. “Motherfucker!” she shouted. 

The mysterious woman was caught. Pinned, yet not restrained.

Mild noises of a struggle emerged. Then, glass shattered before a sickening gurgle, wet and raw. Silence enveloped once more.

Before them - a fountain of blood spraying out. Emi-chan’s trembling hand met the woman’s - desperate, pleading. Dying.

The fluorescent light flickered, blacking out the view.

A clean slice pierced out amidst the darkness. A harrowing squelch ended in crescendo. The last gasp - no more.

Lights turned on again, revealing horror.

Her face was now drenched with dark red.

A satisfied sigh left the mysterious woman’s lips. “...So warm.” She muttered, smiling cruelly at her work.

There was no mistaking it. It was, indeed, the serial killer of criminals before him. Ren was now trembling in fear. A multitude of sweat - or blood - was felt on his temples. He did not want to move, but he knew that the Black Mask was already aware of his presence already, even if she was caught marveling.

“You…you’re them.” Ren whispered out. “The Black Mask.”

In response, the Black Mask’s piercing gaze steadied itself towards him. Ren cautiously stood back up, steadying his breath once more.

“You know me?” She asked softly, her voice retaining its same eerie allure. She tossed the bottle delicately to the side - not quite enough to break it as she approached him. “Good.”

Ren took one step back. “I’m not with them,” he tried to explain, pulling out his officer’s badge. “I’m a detective, and…I’m no criminal.”

She stopped before him, one finger inquisitively placed on her mouth. She leaned her head forward, sharply, curiously. She awaited further elaboration.

“You kill criminals only, right?” Ren asked, and in exchange he was met with a stern look.

“Who said anything about that?” The Black Mask shot back, coldly. She held her baseball bat back, now circling around him - as did Ren, to maintain space.

“Criminals are scum. They’ve no family to speak of, no love to kindle amongst themselves. You police always ignore them for your own safety and the public’s - so what if they die? Grudges are upheld, justice is served.”

That isn’t true, Ren thought to himself, taking another step back.

“It’s hard to be blamed. But if you were to arrest me…” The Black Mask flashed a small, devilish smirk. “How would I keep my pace?”

Before Ren could react, the woman before him was already in his atmosphere. With a lightning fast swing - almost surgical in its accuracy - and a wet pop, Ren felt something dangerously off about his arm - dislocated, not shattered. He didn’t even have time to register it before his brain caught up.

“EUGHHHH!” Ren howled out, buckling over. The taste in his mouth now was one of bile mixed with iron, and before him, the remains of the curry and coffee mixture laid on the ground.

“I am not picky about my victims, you see.” The Black Mask coldly responded, now hovering over him.

Now on his knees, he began crawling - his instincts kept telling him to use his broken arm. Each pace back, pain. A quiet reminder - it was useless to fight back.

The Black Mask remained unfaltering.

She approached - he backed off.

Ren’s life began flashing before him - the memories of the warmth he felt, hours, maybe even days ago. A quiet life with Makoto, or perhaps, Futaba. Another day at the office, now prestigious. Someday, settling down. He gasped rapidly, sliding away. Each and every time, his eyes met with the Black Mask’s. What he saw was not warmth, not anymore  - they were void. Lifeless.

Inhuman. 
Without remorse, yet joyful.
A predator playing with its food.

Now, he was up against the wall. Ren saw the Black Mask lightly swipe at her face, a tongue licking the remains of blood in her hands before receding back to licking her lips. She giggled again, almost as if she derived from the pleasure of seeing him squirm.

What in the actual fuck is wrong with this woman? She isn’t a serial killer with a motive - she’s a coldblooded murderer, indiscriminate. Killing for sport.

She approached, ever closer, like she was watching a broken doll crawling away from its severed strings. The Black Mask leaned in slowly, taking in a deep breath before releasing another satisfying sigh.

Think, Ren, think! How do I get out of this situation?!

It was almost as if she were mocking his presence, taking her time.

I have to survive…please! I didn’t want this…!

The aluminum bat, now in both of the Black Mask’s hands, was raised up. She prepared to strike.

“I’ll kill with you!” Ren shouted, frantically.

She hesitated. Her eyes now returned to something resembling innocence. The Black Mask rescinded her assault, if only briefly. Her delicate smile faded, and once more, her head swiveled slowly.

…Did it work? Ren thought to himself.

“...With me? You want to kill with me?” The same inquisitive finger touched her lips. “Whatever do you mean?”

The baseball bat clattered noisily down onto the ground, rolling into the darkness.

No, seriously, what the hell ? It worked? Ren thought, almost excitedly. But wait…what did I mean?!

His lips quivered, and he almost stuttered trying to come up with something - she was awaiting a response, remaining ever so patient with him for a time.

“You’re right,” He explained, letting whatever word vomit came his way. “They are scum. They won’t be remembered.”

He pointed at her with his good arm. “You can kill them, and I’ll…destroy evidence, yeah!” He said, taking in some time to catch his breath. “Think about it. If I keep the police off of you, it’d be easier to start killing more dangerous criminals, right? We’d be perfect together.”

The Black Mask remained silent, pondering. Contemplating.

She wiped her face clean of the blood, off of her face revealing a warm smile.

“That’s the first time someone’s said something like that to me,” She said, her voice resembling a tune of sweetness. It was almost as if she wasn’t a coldblooded killer in the moment, instead, she was someone who presented a sense of warmth laced with a cozy, nurturing feeling into her words.

She…bought it. Ren considered it in his head.

“It’s like a proposal…” The woman before him continued on. “How sweet of you,” She said, giggling in a different tone - one of genuine mirth.

The Black Mask crouched down, now lightly grazing her leather glove across Ren’s cheek, and lightly flicking a droplet of blood from the corner of his mouth. It stained the thumb of her glove in particular - and she dragged it across her own mouth. She was tasting his blood now, sensually licking her lips to clean out any trace of him.

“And like a couple, we must not betray each other, in sickness or in health.”

In a flash, that nurturing visage turned back into a sadistic one. The Black Mask smiled again, one of absolute sickness. “Like a marriage. It’s bound in blood, now.”

“Yeah…of course. Husband and wife.” Ren agreed.

She’s fucking crazy.

She squealed in delight, having now flickered back into her kindness. “You are so adorable!” She declared, joy filling her tone.

Ren furrowed his eyebrows, and in the background, a shadow emerged from the dark.

Another echoing crack emerged. The Black Mask now tumbled over.

“…What?” Ren uttered. The shade emerged out of the dark, now holding the baseball bat from earlier. He was breathing immensely heavily - his face, malformed. It was the burly one from earlier.

“This bitch…” He struggled to utter out. “This…fucking…BITCH!” He screamed.

Ren shuddered. He tried standing, fighting back. Instinctively, he tried to throw a punch with his broken arm. It responded by refraining, holding him back. He forced back a scream.

Out on the floor, the beer bottle - stained with blood. An opportunity.

He took it in his other hand.

“Stay back,” Ren ordered. He swung wildly to maintain space.

The burly man did not comply. He only yelled out like a beast.

No other choice in the matter. Ren steadied himself. He charged, hoping to slash.

Instead, a black hand reached out from where his broken one was. It pulled the man forward.

The bottle now laid intimately inside the burly man, directly into his throat.

He gurgled. Ren ran paralyzed in fear.

Wait…No…!

It registered in his mind. He looked back, now feeling the closeness of warmth all over his back.

The Black Mask stood right behind him, tightening her grip on the man.

The aluminum bat clattered again on the floor.

“What are you doing?” Ren asked behind him.

She breathed in deeply, steadily, and he could feel her heartbeat. It too ran calmly in the moment against his rapidity.

“What does it look like, darling?” She whispered into his ear, sultry. Her sweet voice haunted his mind, and he wasn’t sure how to feel. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Her other arm wrapped around him, pushing the man closer.

“Wait, no-! Stop!” Ren begged. The man’s blood spray was now staining his white clothes.

“Don’t worry,” The Black Mask assured him. “The first time is always nerve-wracking for everyone.”

She leaned in closer to him, now intimately in touch with his ears. He could feel her gentle breath on it.

“Just relax …” She commanded with honey in her voice, gently running her fingers sensually down Ren’s chest. “Let your tensions go. Do you feel what he feels…?”

Ren’s eyes widened at the man before him. He was struggling to survive, and they both knew it was impending. His hands shook uncontrollably around the bottle.

In spite of that, in the moment, he listened to the Black Mask. He could feel…the warmth of the man’s flesh. His smell was perverted by the scent of blood erupting out of the man’s esophagus. The taste of metal returned to him inside his mouth - and this time, he wasn’t sure if it was his, or the man’s. Ren’s gaze bored into the other’s, watching…slowly…as his life leapt out of him. He felt another hand brush over his, urging him to thrust ahead - finish it. He knew it was hers, one filled with warmth to discard the inevitable cold he was feeling. The man’s heart rate began to slow down considerably, each pulse dying faster than the last, until…

The lights within the burly man’s eyes escaped its mortal coil. His resistance stopped. Like a climax, it was over in but a few moments - the height of his death. His body limped, and the woman let him go. His body slumped down, leaving a pool of blood to stain the floors now.

The Black Mask’s quiet laughter vibrated alongside Ren’s physique, as they were still intimately connected to one another. The hand on Ren returned back to his body, lightly brushing over him once more, exiting through his nape, giving him encouragement. “Good boy,” she hushed out before exiting his presence.

Ren watched in horror as the burly man’s corpse pooled blood on the floor, seeping into his shoes. He gasped, almost forgetting this entire time he didn’t breathe - and it brought him back in the moment. He was shaking again, aware yet unsure of what unfolded.

His eyes hung onto the figure of the Black Mask, who was now gently smiling at him. His direction in the gaze stared, mercilessly, past her. He wanted to back away, to run, but he froze, unwilling. All he could do was observe at her behest, as she circled around him.

“Our first kill together,” The Black Mask announced proudly. “How absolutely delightful.”

Ren fell to his knees, letting the blood soak into his pants. All he could do now was stare mindlessly at the sin he just committed, but his brain could not register it. It refused to register it. All that stared back was the soulless eyes of a dead man lost to time, mouth left forever agape, begging for mercy - a haunting image that begged him for release from this betrayal, only for the answer to be forever unclaimed.

He heard the wrinkling of the woman’s leather boots on the ground again, then a hand picking something up from the ground. She hummed, as if she were investigating something else on her own.

“Ren…Amamiya. Ren Amamiya.” She read his name aloud. “Ren Amamiya…” She said, a third time, burning it into memorization.

“Such a beautiful name,” she said calmly. “Ren is for hope. Purity. Compassion. A lotus. To lead. Love…” She giggled once again.

“Yet in another language, Ren means blade.” She stooped down to where she could meet eye-to-eye with him again. “You were reborn for this.”

Ren, begrudgingly, did not listen to her. As his mind was slowly catching up to what unfolded, a dreading thought dawned upon him. He didn’t want to admit it, but it was the only plausible experience that unfolded within the madness, that order within the chaos.

It was all fabricated. She let this happen.

“You faked your collapse just so he could come at me.” Ren replied, dejected. “You knew… You put me in a corner like a caged animal, so you could force me to kill…so I could never betray you.”

The Black Mask grinned, the ends of her smile curling sinisterly. “So you figured it out, then.” She huffed, and stood back up, picking up her baseball bat from the bloodied ground. “You did propose to me after all. It’s quite serious, you see, so it shouldn’t be a problem…”

Her piercing eyes once again met Ren’s, and they once again contained the mark of a predator lingering. “Unless you were lying to me, of course.”

Ren, struggling from his immensely disjointed mess of a body, stood up with whatever strength he had left. He let his broken arm dangle as he slowly approached the Black Mask, unfeeling, unthinking. He didn’t know what he was doing - everything didn’t make any sense. Right was wrong, wrong was right. Life was death, and somehow… death was life. His brain was fried, and the only thing he could do from an outsider’s perspective was nonsense - he did it anyway.

He stepped into her orbit now, and quickly, he grabbed the nape of her neck, pulling her lips into his.

She let out an unexpected squeak. Her visage - once that of a monster’s, retreated into something…gentler. More human-like. Her shoulders eased from tenseness into softness, and they both pulled away, leaving a small blood trail mixed in-between their saliva.

They briefly exchanged gazes without a word, with the Black Mask taking a moment to breathe - something that seemed impossible prior to this, after her dance of death.

“I solemnly vow, from sickness and in health…” He recited with exasperated breath. “I will murder alongside you. Will you do the same?”

The Black Mask touched her lips, pressing several fingers into them, running down, gently wiping off the blood trickling from her mouth. There was a visible look of confusion, with her brown, or red, eyes trying to process what just happened. She was muttering to herself something indistinct, something that Ren could not comprehend. After a short while, she felt a deep dark shade of red encompass her cheeks, and a sensation of heat rushed over her. She let out a laugh - once more, genuine. Warm. Empathetic. Soft. Kind.

She bit her lower lip before letting her joy into a calming giggle. “Oh…oh my. ” She said, almost as if it were like the first time a girl was kissed. She started fanning her face before letting out a soft exhale.

“You are so, so cute,” she remarked, her gaze softening. Her arms roped around the back of Ren’s figure, letting her examine him in closeness, almost as if she was studying a specimen trapped in a jar. “I absolutely will, sweetheart.”

They returned to the silence, Ren now taking his turn to study Crow’s features. He realized that parts of her natural brown hair color that he saw at a glance weren’t fully the same color throughout. In particular, the roots were black, almost like a fade - and that yes, her eyes matched what he assumed. They were a dark brown, but if he stared enough…it was a shade of crimson. Notably, she was also closer to his height than he initially thought - their eyes matched each other’s without much effort to glance up or down.

He let out a tired sigh, grunting from how much pain he was in. “What do I call you then…?” Ren asked, weakly.

“Hmm…” She pondered. “How about…Crow?”

“Crow.” He repeated as calmly as she did. Of course it was.

“Ren.” She said back to him. “Maybe…Renren?” She repeated, almost teasingly. “For how adorable you are.”

He felt a light boop on his nose.

She sighed, touching her lips again, decoupling her grasp on him momentarily, trying to remember that moment. “From this day forward, I take you as my beloved accomplice…until death, do we start.”

Her proclamation completed the vow, morbid as it may be, and Ren felt an uncomfortable lurch in his stomach. He wasn’t sure what he was getting into. One thing was for certain: He can never go back to the man he used to be. If he were to die, here and now, at least it would’ve been with the only connection that he felt was true.

Without letting the conversation continue, Crow put her arm over to Ren’s good one, letting him hold onto the bat. “What’re you doing?”

Crow said nothing as she proceeded to touch his broken arm. He sharply sucked in air, almost letting his pain become apparent. “Hey, that --”

Almost immediately, the world felt like its colors inverted. Another wet pop occurred, and this time - the pain was too unbearable. Briefly, sensation returned into his broken arm as it tingled electrically before it died - Ren let out an empty scream, unable to process anything else. His eyes widening as far as they could, he felt his body go limp, and every nerve of his body rage into silence.

He collapsed almost lifelessly, mouth hung agape - Crow had caught him. She prevented him from falling down onto the hard and callous floor. Her smile returned, and just before he lost consciousness, he couldn’t tell if it was fragile, or impish. Yet all the same, it was a smile.

“You’re mine, now…” Crow whispered softly, caressing his cheek.

The world retreated from his purview, slowly, blissfully, all into nothingness.

Chapter Text

“When I am weaker than you, I ask you for freedom because that is according to your principles. When I am stronger than you, I take away your freedom because that is according to my principles.” - Frank Herbert

???, 20XX
???
???

In the shudder of the night, Ren awoke in a haze, quickly rising up from his bed. He is in a cold sweat, looking around his surroundings. It’s his home, his apartment. Safety.

How odd, or perhaps, not odd at all. Ren calmed his breathing down, steadily regulating its pace as the darkness encroached upon his room.

“Was that…just a dream?” He asked himself, unsure of what happened. In fact, he could not quite remember what, exactly, happened. Bits and pieces came to him if he tried to recall the moment, he knew there was a woman that rescued him by the name of Crow, and that he’d been kidnapped. Yet, he didn’t recall if there were signs of a struggle - his kidnappers died. 

As he peered around, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, save for the fact he hadn’t even realized he was at home.

Lightly, Ren shifted his form over to the side of his futon, tossing the blankets aside from his futon. He was only wearing a pair of boxers, and everything else remained clean. Around his room, a dim light set the mood for its warming ambience. Outside in the night, he saw…

Nothing. Not quite as in, the night is so dark he saw nothing, but one as in that there was nothing there at all. A void, as empty as the answers that were beholden to him at this time. But how could this be? Ren stood up, taking a sharp glance outside.

Truly, it was an endless pitch black outside. He attempted to move outside, sliding open the door leading to an outside terrace. As he stepped out, Ren noted that he felt no chills from the breeze he’d normally feel if he were outside. Instead, the stillness inside brought him a sense of eeriness he couldn’t quite shake.

It did not take long for the atmosphere to shift. Out in the corner of his eye, a dimly lit crimson moon - or perhaps a red sun, he was unsure of either - arose through the darkness. Gradually, the pseudo-night sky began encroaching upon his space: Wisteria leaves fell in the dead air.

There was no wisteria tree in his vicinity in reality. Ren reached out his hand to grasp at one petal falling. As it gently floated down to the palm of his hand, it nestled deep in…just before dissolving into blood.

Ren stepped back, now feeling a stickiness to his hand. “What in the…?” He asked himself.

As if he were being pulled inwards, Ren felt a strong tug bring him back into the room, and the sliding door forcibly shut behind him as he was now back inside, the red liquid now flowing down his arm in a more extreme measure. He was not bleeding, that much was certain - yet the wisteria leaves outside were now painting the sky a crimson color.

Briefly, the outline of a woman appeared before him before quickly disappearing in the corner of his eye when he investigated. His heart had skipped a beat at the thought before settling back in, unsure of what his brain was processing.

“Hello?” He called out. No response was his defined answer for several seconds, before a sinister laugh emanated from his walls. “Who’s there…?” he whispered, now trying to figure out where he could keep a plausible weapon near him.

It would not take long before the silhouette appeared again, now teleporting out of his purview as it pleased. What Ren did not understand in this moment, however, was that the room was expanding to impossible lengths - his wardrobe was farther than it was before.

Suddenly, a scream emerged from outside. His focus shot quickly in its direction, and Ren wanted to investigate - only to feel a strong tug from where the bleeding was. He now turned his eyes over, finding that he was restrained by a silver chain forming in his hand.

The force that brought him back into the room pushed him back into bed, with the chains moving to the wall, and Ren could feel a shiver roll up his spine - not out of fear, but out of its icy embrace against it. His other hand slowly became preoccupied, now communing with another set of chains, forcibly tugging him as if he were a prisoner. With all of his strength, Ren could not force these shackles to bend to his will.

“Help!” He tried to call out, only now realizing that nothing came, and a collar had been placed around his neck, restraining his vocal cords. It was futile, there was nobody around even if he tried. In front of him, parallel to his futon, the walls of the apartment folded open, now exposing him to the exterior dimensions of the world. Above him stood a wisteria tree, dropping scarlet red petals, swirling around with a haunting gracefulness that did not exist in this darkness. One could falsely believe the wisteria to be rose petals in mourning.

The laugh re-emerged from the shadows of the night, now feeling closer within earshot. Though no such wall existed behind him anymore, the shackles that bind him remain. What perverted his views was just pure black and red, two tones of ink spilling amongst each other with unclear intentions.

Ren’s vision blurred temporarily, and he felt a shift underneath his bottom half. The futon shifted, now becoming a full-fledged double bed before him, feet dangling freely. A row of candles popped out from the darkness, lighting up a walkway with its orange light against the infinite night.

A luscious scent filled his lungs, yet he was unsure of what truly was in the air. Between the mix of roses, he could faintly smell iron, yet a sickly sweetness permeated as well. The more he was forced to struggle in the silence, the more the concoction filled his lungs, causing him distress at its uncomfortability. He found it harder to breathe, though it was not due to the quality.

Flashing images of a woman approached him with such unpredictability, his eyes couldn’t keep up with her figure. She disappeared as quickly as his eyes could follow, until Ren only found himself fatigued from the effort it took. Out from the shadows, he thought he saw another shade - this one of a man, emerging outwards in a flash.

“...You will love each other…” A voice echoed back to him from behind. It wasn’t the voice he came to know…rather, it was one that had been distorted, mimicking his own. Ren’s gaze froze in fear, facing straightforwardly, he dared not to look. A small bead of sweat dropped from his temples, one drenched with an uncomforting chill. “Won’t you…?”

I didn’t say that. Am I being tested? What’s going on…?

This must be a hallucination, he was most certain of it. The flashes of the woman reappeared before his very eyes, before another whisper came directly hushed into his ear.

“You’re mine now…” The woman’s voice returned, softly, alluringly. Sweetly. It was a repeat of what he heard before his tumble down, that much he could recall…yet…recalling other memories proved fruitless.

Emerging from the void of darkness came the form of Crow, but not in the way he saw her originally. Instead, her skin was bare, a pale reflection against the darkness, yet it was slickened with the remnants of red liquid, trails of rivulets etched into the curves of her body. Each step forward seemingly ignited the candles in the walkway with a fierceness not possible, and if Ren squinted, he could notice bloody footprints encroaching the trail behind her.

The rest of his mind filled in the details of what her body shape truly was like underneath. He imagined her to be lean, but not in an hourglass fashion, yet lusciously attractive where it mattered - thighs, breasts, ass. He wasn’t sure if it was proper, considering the last pair he unintentionally laid upon was…someone else’s. Someone he couldn’t recall the name of, but knew she was dead. The figments knew no boundaries, even at this mirage of delirium.

He could not help but back away at the sight of Crow approaching him, or at least, he attempted to. It only dawned upon him that the chains that bind him pulled him back from escape, his struggles rendered futile. Much as he could remember in a haze, Ren remembered her gait, flowing effortlessly forward, each step deliberate, in tune with itself.

“Stop,” he wanted to say, but found that his throat was now chained, its rope tightening akin to a leash with his owner being the woman in front of him. All he could do was breathe in the uncomfortable air, sweet and sick, as Crow approached closer and closer, until she was standing, bare, proud, and maliciously intent on controlling him.

Ren’s thoughts swam at a thousand miles a second, as he was unsure of how to feel at this sight. His body was responding in two ways he could not comprehend - one compelling him to touch this unholy sight, and the other to run the fuck away. Even without realizing it, Ren felt the softness of Crow’s skin upon his fingertips, something he did not command his body to do.

Stop! 

He mentally told himself, but his body was not listening. His arms continued to struggle as the chains pulled tighter and tighter, the force almost bruising his wrists. He felt his heart race - he wasn’t ready.

Her gentle caress found its way to his cheek, staining it with a wet warmth - perhaps, too warm - that was met with cold sweat.

“Ren,” Crow spoke his name - slowly, softly, deeply into him, her intonations softly echoing in his ears. Her eyes lowered down, gently smiling. “I know you want me.”

She crouched down to his lower half, pressing her bloody cheek towards his legs. “Here I was, thinking we’d only just met - and you’ve already completed half of our vows in a heartbeat!”

Wh…what?!

He could feel excitement building beneath, a strange arousal forming, his throat tightening at the thought. He wanted to scream out in terror, or perhaps to even deny her at this moment - but nothing came. Her expression changed again, now one filled with pure malignance, her grin from ear to ear staring back hungrily at him.

“I’ve waited long enough!” Crow yelled out, her softness turning rigid in madness. A tight pressure formed around Ren’s neck, sucking the air out of him against all odds, but his hands…his hands told a different story. They reached out for her approval. Tonight, these weren’t the eyes of a wanton killer, a nocturnal predator, nor the eyes of a gentle being. No - they had a matched intensity of immense, uncontrollable hunger, for him - and her eyes shined an unnatural shade of red. Ren could not look away, staring deeply into them, longing, yearning.

Before long, his vision blurred once more, almost as if the sequence was misaligned, until it refocused back into itself. He felt his figure manually shifted towards the edge of the bed, with Crow’s presence running counterbalanced to his, her thighs slightly spread towards him, legs firmly folded around his waist. His erect length pressed up against her wetness, ready to sink in - but she was too busy teasing him, slicking her thighs back and forth against the length. His breathing turned uneven, but he realized then that his voice returned.

“Crow…” He eked out in a helpless whimper. “I…”

“I want this.” His voice internally whispered to him, with his hands willingly moving towards her waist, yet his body betrayed with it trembling. Whether it was invitation or hesitation, he was unsure.

“No, I…I don’t…” Ren whispered back, responding to no one in his stead. “Please…”

She didn’t listen. Ren felt her soft breathing, her heart, and then the warmth of something else grace his earlobe - the first move towards something more - as it trailed down to the clefts of his jaw. She stopped then and there, longingly glaring at him with glossy, crimson-tinted eyes.

Crow shushed to soothe him. “Tell me, Ren,” She cooed, her arms wrapped around his figure from around the nape of his neck. “You keep saying you don’t want this, and yet…you’re not pushing me away. Why is that…?” She softly bit her lower lip before giving a demented giggle. Before long, her lips claiming parts of his own before escaping, a robbery in of itself. Each kiss she gave, a theft. Each touch, an illicit brand.

“Push me or love me,” She demanded. “Won’t you make me yours…?”

His breathing rapidly accelerated, as his hands couldn’t stop shaking, matching pace with how fast his heart was throbbing out of his chest.

Run.
Resist.
Reject.

And yet…he took note of his hands around her delicate waist. They tightened, not out of force, but of will, almost as if it was clinging onto the ideal - a need he couldn’t fathom - was it desire that clawed at his sanity, or was it merely a dark reflection of what he couldn’t afford to tell himself?

Hesitation, or decision?

“Just remember…” Crow softly whispered into his ear, coiling around him further. She leaned down, closer to the edges of his neck, and her teeth grazed his skin. Parts of his nerves sent waves of electricity and pleasure in conjunction together, with Crow’s hands clawing into his back. He felt possessed, claimed. Like he belonged.

Her focus returned back to him as she rose up, her smile curling maniacally. “...We’re together in the end.” 

She let out another demented part of laughter as her figure moved, drilling downwards. Her heat, her sex, began sinking down into him, folds spreading. He shuddered, and felt his lips betray him as a quiet gasp - a moan - escape. The pressure was enough to make Ren’s hands back off from her waist. A dark truth hit him then as Crow’s hips rocked back and forth, hungrily craving him for more - he had a choice. This was his to make, and…

“Ren…!” Crow called out again, giving a raspy gasp, her own breathy sighs of satisfaction haunting his ears. “Why deny me to begin with if I’m already a part of you, hmm?”

Every sharp push, back and forth, rising and falling, her body bouncing on his cock, etched an unrelenting scream into him internally -

Push.
Persist.
Preserve.

He hadn’t even realized it yet, but Ren could feel that his hands were freed from the shackles. His palms once more reached for her waist, fingers entrenched, clinging, to her curves.

Ren was not at a loss for control. Forcibly, he exited out of her slit, but retained his grip over her. Crow’s eyes bored back into him, out of pure curiosity as to why he stopped.

Pieces of the void around him began reforming, a sensibility he had lost prior. The walls of his apartment folded back, but now were burning down in flames, flickering in-between the void of dark and the burning of blight. The room shortened in size, and before long, Ren returned to where it all started, now a battle between dominance and control over its own narrative as the apartment struggled to maintain itself, often flashing out of view into the void, then returning to an abode of safety.

The droplets of blood covering Crow dissipated, breaking apart as soft brittled particles floating into the atmosphere, as Ren threw her back into the bed - now, she was the one laying down, and she breathed heavily, one finger lightly bit down on as she peered at him inquisitively. The space between her thighs remained, hungrily open - but this time was different. She pressed her hands against her own thighs, spreading her folds ever wider, no longer tempting - but inviting him.

“Ren…” She repeatedly called his name,her tone returning to a soft, gentler sweetness. “I want you to fill me. Make me yours…”

Her voice, ever so teasing, forced his hand. In the heat of the moment, Ren dived straight in, not a single thought past his mind. He grasped at her soft mounds, Crow’s nipples stuck between index and middle, and before long, he guided his length back to her overwhelming heat, loins on fire. Not wanting to give her any space to breathe, he clawed his way up to her lips against his in desperation - the freedom felt like a fresh breath of air.

His freedom, ravenous. His control, boundless. Intoxicating. Liberating. The apartment maintained its presence, the safety of it all returning to Ren’s control.

He could sense that he was close now, his release. Each thrust into Crow was one step closer, ever so closer, aching, longing. 

“Love me, hate me… take me. ” Crow whispered, fervent with lust. Her arms were now wide open to accept him, and he claimed her lips with his own in response. With force, with an unnerving sense of desperation, with a hunger mirroring Crow’s own senses, Ren pushed onwards, sinking himself deeper inside of her, as her hands found their way behind his neck, caressing him, fingers threading his fluffy hair, as did her legs fold around him, almost as if she were begging not to let go as his mind melted, getting lost in Crow, and her in him.

His body, tensed from pleasure in that moment - so close to climax, also crept up with a sense of unease. Her skin, ever so silky, turned icey just as he let Crow taste his lips, a soft and wet tongue entering into his mouth, swirling.

Ren slowed down, parting from the enveloped kiss from Crow. She gazed at him softly, half-lidded and lost in her own guilty pleasures, and Ren stared back, a sense of shame overriding his senses. Still, he was inside of her, feeling the slick wetness of her wrapped around his cock.

What am I doing…?!

Suddenly - Ren was thrown downwards at the same time Crow pushed him back further, untethering him from her essence. He reached out to her, only to be met with an ever-fading facade of Crow embedded into his memories, her mouth moving as if she were saying something to him, yet he could not hear it.

Disconnected, disjointed, his apartment faded out into obscurity, and he began a freefall into the void, trying to reach back to someone who was no longer there.

He cried out.

???, 20XX
Late Morning
East Shinjuku University Hospital

The heart rate monitor beeped rapidly as Ren felt the sensation of his body radically shift once more. He opened up one of his eyes - the only eye that wasn’t covered in a bandage right now, and took a look at his surroundings, the fluorescent light blinding him on first viewing. As he got his bearings, Ren came to realize, gradually, that he was at a hospital, and everything fucking hurt.

He groaned loudly, having attempted to move his arm, only to find out that any bit of movement was restrictive in nature. The only thing that didn’t hurt ended up being his good arm at the minimum, but even that came with a modicum of suffering to go with it. 

His body was wrapped all over in medical bandages, with his other arm held together with a cast slung over him, and above all else, Ren’s mind was fuzzy with information, tinnitus ringing loud as it could…and yet somehow, he was still alive. Barely, but alive.

In a surprise, several nurses rushed into his room as the alarms sounded, and for Ren, he was having difficulty understanding words being spoken to him, not until he focused. All indistinct words racked in his brain, muffled and unable to be processed. He looked, blankly, at the nurses checking on his symptoms.

“...hear me?” One of the nurses asked him, the ringing dying down. He stared blankly at them, taking the time to realize he was being addressed. “Mr. Amamiya?”

He took several seconds to respond, unable to find his voice. He instead nodded slightly, and that was all the confirmation medical team needed. He took in another deep breath, his chest feeling weighed down. He groaned again, and this only made the nurses forcibly make him rest where he was.

Once he finished surveying his surroundings in brief, Ren realized that his partner was talking to him, and he wasn’t even aware. He slowly looked up and to his right, now noticing Makoto shaking his good hand. He rasped heavily, trying to find words that failed to meet him. This time, she was wearing casual attire that she wasn't wearing earlier, her standard oversized white blouse layered with a baby blue jacket, with a black belt, black pants, and simple high heels. Maybe she got a change of clothes when he was last found?

“Ren! Oh my god, Ren!” She called out his name, twice. “Can you hear me? Ren!” Thrice now.

“Ma…koto…” he answered. “Where…what is…” His throat was hoarse, rough and dry. 

In response, Makoto waved her hand in a negative way. “Don’t talk, just rest. I’ll explain later.” The phone rang, emerging from Makoto’s pocket. She quickly answered. “Yes?”

Ren couldn’t hear what the other end of the receiver was asking. 

“He’s awake! Get over here!” Makoto responded rapidly. “Look, you just have to see for yourself, I have to tend to him.” She then hung up.

“Ren. I’m going to get you some water and maybe see if I can’t get some other confirmations, I’ll be right back, okay?” She told him, lightly squeezing his hand. The strange part was that he hadn’t ever realized how warm Makoto’s hand was, and how comforting it felt to be held like that.

Something else came to mind, something more dreadful. The tinnitus began ringing in his head again, drowning out all the noise and the work the nurses were doing to help - setting back machines, making sure he wasn’t overheating.

I don’t…recall why I’m here. Everything hurts. It hurts to talk, hurts to move, hurts…everywhere. And for another…

He stared down below his waist. There was a notable little thing sticking out from underneath the blankets, still ever presently throbbing.

Ren felt his face burn, feeling flushed with embarrassment. Fragments of the dream lingered in his mind - a nude woman, blood and petals…lots of it nonsensical, yet brief and coming in waves.

Oh…

Oh, no.

The nurses didn’t seem to notice either, which was some small kindness from this world. Anything Ren would do in the moment would only hinder their progress, and cause further embarrassment. He’d rather not talk about it, even though he felt it, and the aches it provided from a lack of true release. He was lucky Makoto stepped out of the room already, but it didn’t help that the persistence of nurses around him made it worse - and his anxiety made it feel like they were aware. Watching. With disgust in their hearts and concern in their minds.

You are a sick individual, horny and in pain.

Ren could only rationalize it in his head - he’d just awoken. Morning wood was not a big deal, blood comes rushing everywhere at any point, that’s just a natural response. Still…he’d probably not live this down any time soon.

They disappeared just as quick as they came, having concluded Ren was finally awake and stable, nothing more, nothing less. From the room, he saw a calendar of progress from the days he’d spent inside…and that was when he realized something truly was wrong.

The date read January 18th. To his knowledge, the last day according to what he remembered was January 15th.

He had been unconscious for 3 whole days, and in the recovering phase, his body still agonized over itself this badly. Ren, already struggling to breath, felt a wave of unease come over him once more. It didn’t even feel like it was 3 days! More like a couple of hours…it didn’t make any sense.

Nothing to him was making sense, in fact, and it was freaking him out. He remembered his dream with that woman…Crow, if that was really her name. A pang of guilt ran over to him, yet his inclinations told him that it was only right - but why, remained to be seen.

The insanity wouldn’t be over however, as Ren’s eyes flicked over to where Makoto was sitting last, and now there was something else there to greet him, like a parting gift.

Out in the small corner, he saw it. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of it, yet he had no good reason to know why that was - and all his mind could do to come up with an answer was that it had something to do with Crow, and something horrible happened. He felt a strong sense of unease rush at him, enough to make him look away.

The black aluminum bat sat cleanly against the wall. A memento, a soft reminder. Ren’s head hurt when he tried to process what that bat meant. He couldn’t.

After some time, he sat up slightly from his hospital bed. If it weren’t painful, it was numbing. He felt nothing. Empty, hollow, and devoid of meaning. A different woman returned when he needed her the most, his eyes lighting up slightly.

“Ch…Chie…” He called out to her. Her eyes met with his, and she dropped whatever it was she was holding - a flower bouquet.

“Shit! Oh my god,” Chie remarked in surprise. “Ren! You’re awake!” She rushed over, hesitating. She had no idea where to hold onto him, or even hug him. All she knew was that it’d hurt him all the same.

“Ren…thank god you’re alright!” She cried. “Everyone’s so worried…!”

He said nothing, only giving a light smile. He grunted.

“What even happened, dude? Detective Niijima told me that you two were eating curry and then…you just, you didn’t come back.”

“I…don’t...remember.” Ren said, breathing in-between to ease himself. “Just…bits…and pieces.”

Chie sat down on the seat where Makoto was, scooting up so he didn’t have to stretch out too far to look. “That’s what we feared. The doctors said you hit your head pretty badly, and you might not even remember most of what happened.”

Makoto came into the room shortly afterwards, a cup of water in hand. “Chie.” She addressed to her.

“Hey,” Chie called back. “How long’s he been up?”

“Just now,” Makoto responded. “I went to grab water. We’re still waiting on Akihiko-kun.”

“I think it might be easier on him if we got like, a journal or something so he could write, and not talk. What do you think?”

“Hmm…” Makoto pondered, setting Ren’s cup onto the small board for him to reach easily. “I agree, actually. They said it’d be best for his body to recover, and if his one good hand is alright, it might be for the best.”

With a nod, Chie walked out. “I’ll go look for something to help out with that then,” she said, then wandered off elsewhere.

Makoto sighed deeply and took off her jacket, rubbing her hands together. Upon closer inspection, Ren came to realize Makoto had bags under her eyes, and a story on the surface to tell about why. If he had to guess, it was likely because she hadn’t slept well enough, or was effectively camping out here, hoping for the day her partner would wake up. Her hair was already sticking out in certain spots, and it looked like she wasn’t eating all that well either, her glow turning a little paler than normal. Or perhaps, it was just the fluorescent light above illuminating her figure differently.

Put short: Makoto looked like shit.

“You’ve been…gone for three days.” Makoto spoke softly. “I know that’s probably not the easiest thing to swallow, either.”

Ren nodded, and pointed over with his hand. “I saw…calendar.”

She then looked like she was on the verge of crying now that things were coming to a head, her form leaning over and her forehead touching Ren’s arm, her own holding onto the guard rails of the bed.

“I’m sorry,” Makoto’s voice croaked out. “It’s my fault you ended up like this, and I…” She sniffled, trying to hold back tears. “I should’ve never let you out of my sight.”

Struggling to recall what happened, Ren retraced his steps back on that day. He made eggs and some miso soup, that’s something he remembered, then he offered to go visit…somewhere, with Makoto. Was it Leblanc? He had to be. Chie said they were out for curry and that was the only possible spot they liked - Sojiro made them like no other. Yet, he had no recollection of meeting Sojiro…ergo, he must’ve met with Futaba. A myriad of memories aligned with his thought processes, yet what happened after was a blur. Regardless of the fact, he wouldn’t let that stand.

“Your fault…?” Ren asked, taking a deep breath in. “I can’t…recall. But…whatever it was…it wasn’t…your fault.”

Makoto shook her head. “It was!” She said, balling her fists together. “I was the one who let you go alone, who didn’t even think we could’ve handled it together, and now look! You’re…”

She didn’t even let that thought finish. Makoto turned away, covering her mouth, taking in her own deep breath to help hold herself together.

Broken up. That’s just part of the job.
It’s me who should be telling you I’m sorry, Makoto.

“How about…” Ren spoke, trying his best to sit up now so he wouldn’t feel so utterly useless. “You treat me…to curry again…?”

That would have to wait. Chie returned back inside, having now found a notebook to use, and an accompanying pen, courtesy of the staff around. She took Ren’s cup of water and gave him ample space to write stuff down, if only he could’ve scooted up a little more.

“Alright…let’s rest that voice of yours.” Chie said, handing him the cup. Ren carefully drank out of it, holding onto it as best as he could. Surprisingly, he didn’t choke. With small sips, he moved his head out and shakily grabbed onto the pen. It took a bit of effort, but he managed to get a good grip on it.

“So, can you tell us as best as you can what happened?” Chie asked, setting his cup aside and steepling her hands together. “I hate to make you do this, too…but the sooner we get it done the better.”

Ren slowly wrote down his thoughts, trying to remember his own motor controls. After some time, muscle memory kicked in. He got into the shape of it, albeit his handwriting was severely tanked given the unsteadiness of how he felt.

By the end of it, Ren wrote down what he could recall: ‘Remembered curry. Waking up to eat light meal. Saw a woman, then head hurt. Can’t remember much after.’

It wasn’t exactly the biggest revelation to go off of, yet it was his testimony. Chie and Makoto took a brief read over it before whispering something indistinct, and then it was up to Makoto to sit down and do her job.

“Listen to me very carefully, Ren-kun. I’m going to see if I can’t jog your memory, see if we can’t pick something else up.”

He nodded.

She exhaled deeply, pursing her lips before smacking them. “You told me you had seen a woman that we did not capture from the night prior. It was the girlfriend of our little drug busted guy. After that, we managed to get an eyewitness report from someone who said you were chasing her in a circle, before getting escorted by a few men.”

Ren furrowed his eyebrows, trying to make sense of that. He did recall in some way following two men around. What he couldn’t recall was why, or how. A woman…he considered it. Nothing came, however.

He was handed the notebook again, and Ren wrote down what he could once more.

‘Don’t remember woman. Remember the men. Don’t know if that helps, sorry.’

Chie sighed and nervously swallowed. “Do you think we should tell him where we found him, or wait?”

“I…I wouldn’t know. He’s been through a lot - I don’t know if we should just let him rest more…until he’s ready, I mean.”

She did not like that answer, since time was of the essence. Chie snatched the notebook out of Makoto’s hands and gave it back to Ren.

“Let’s see how far he goes. You said he’s got a strong peace of mind. He’s shaken up but…”

But.

Ren got his pen ready again, willing to answer anything they threw at him. Makoto looked at him with a genuine set of worried eyes, then leaned in softly to his ear.

“You can stop if it gets too hard, okay…? Don’t push yourself.”

It was Chie’s turn now to get information. She crossed her arms and let her expression soften. Even in her case, this was hard to really cope with as well.

“We…found you, amidst three dead bodies. You were so severely bruised with a broken arm we didn’t think you were alive, and in your hand was a bat.”

“This one,” Makoto chimed in, bringing the aluminum bat into frame. “And we can’t identify anybody else’s fingerprints aside from one of the victims, and yours.”

Chie continued on. “Of the three bodies, it was the two men and the one woman we cross-referenced with our boy still in prison. Yet…”

There was a long and unwanted silence that filled the room after as Ren looked at the both of them, then at the bat. No matter what, any time he saw the bat, he wanted to get away.

“Someone called EMS for you. There was another person there, another woman.”

With a knowing glance from the two of them, Makoto hurried over and shut the door leading into Ren’s specific hospital ward. She bit her lower lip, trying to gauge if Ren was ready for it.

All Ren could do was lean his head in a way that didn’t hurt, but wanted to know more. He watched as Makoto gave a willing nod over to Chie, who fetched something out of her signature green sports jacket. It was a recorder of sorts, ready to play something with a black screen.

Chie hit the play button, and a transcript unfolded.

“110, what’s your emergency?” The operator asked in their usual script.

“Hello…” The voice of the woman responded. Even with just one word, Ren felt a strong chill run up his spine. Its tone was sweet, and warm. Contrasting what he really felt, but how could this be? What would cause him this?

“How can I assist, ma’am?” The operator continued.

“Ah, you see, I’d like to make a concerning report around Yongen-Jaya…I heard screams.”

I’ve heard this voice before...

A bead of sweat dropped from Ren’s forehead before it got caught in one of his many bandages. He tried to maintain composure, breathing in and out slowly. His body tingled again as his eyes darted over to the bat.

A brief flash of a memory clawed its way out, yet it wasn’t that helpful. It was a rapid collage - moans, a glass breaking, death and wanton destruction, blood red painting walls and his brain, followed by a non-descript entity chasing him, with his screams echoing. It was enough, however, to cause Ren to lose rhythm to his breath.

“Could you describe --” The operator was cut off.

“I don’t want to cause you alarm, sir. This neighborhood is usually so peaceful in the afternoons on my walks, I’m just a concerned citizen. You heard me, right? Screams. The address is --”

Ren forced what he could out of his strength to pause the video. His heart was pounding out of his chest, and he almost doubled over from the pain it was causing him to move. Both Chie and Makoto moved swiftly to ensure he caught himself, and then set him back so he was leaning.

“We’re sorry,” Makoto spoke, now taking the recording out of his possession. “I knew it was a bad idea.”

It did not stop Ren however, as he raised his hand in defiance. He got his pen and scribbled something short. Once Makoto and Chie read it silently, they lightly gasped.

‘I know that voice. I just don’t know who it belongs to.’

“Tell us more,” Chie said hurriedly. “What else can you remember?”

Makoto pulled Chie back. “Will you stop? If we go any further…”

The hospital door opened, and Akihiko stepped in wearing his gray suit. “Sorry I’m late,” he announced. “Traffic was hell.” He stared over to where Ren was, now breathing a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god,” he muttered, coming over. “You’re alive, Ren.”

Akihiko hovered over to take a closer look at him, almost chuckling. “Y’know, I think I’ve seen worse! He’ll definitely live.”

Chie backed off and took the recording back from Makoto, pocketing it back to her jacket pocket. “The more he knows the better. Let’s do this again when he’s better, alright?”

“Has he eaten yet?” Akihiko interjected. “Dude’s all skin and bones after this. I was thinking,” He reached into the inside of his suit jacket, pulling out a small bottle. “Got a nice energy drink for him. It’ll help.”

Makoto checked the wall clock from above, then looked back outside to where one of the receptionists were working diligently. She hummed. “Lunch time is soon…an energy drink could help him later when he’s not so…”

“Fucked up, yeah.” Akihiko completed her sentence.

Ren mustered up more strength to grab the bottle, then he quickly remembered he only had one hand. Akihiko took it back briefly, and cracked it open for him. As he took it, Ren pressed his lips against the opening and gave a small sip.

Its acidic taste almost made him recoil from how unexpected it was, but the flavoring of it was quite delicious - a little strawberry flavor mixed in with what he assumed were herbs. He checked the label, rotating the bottle around. Sure enough, it was to promote swift recovery from muscle aches.

Ren smiled again and lightly nodded. “...Thanks, Aki.” He said softly.

A few minutes passed, and more chairs were gathered into the room. Everybody on the task force wouldn’t dare leave Ren alone, now that he was awake. It wasn’t a work relevant thing either, after some discussions, every single one of them agreed: Do not ask Ren for anything until he is better. Let him see us as friends, not coworkers. 

Lunch was about the standard fare of what everyone would expect out of a hospital in Japan - warm rice, hot soup, a helpful side of fish and meat, rolled up tamagos, and a large glass of milk. Nutrient rich, very filling. It was enough to get Ren to have more strength, enough that by the evening, he was speaking better, more coherently.

Makoto was the only one who still elected to stay behind, even though she had the opportunity to return home at any point, and she had very little reason to stay even now. Her partner was alive, recovering. Maybe not all is well, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be better by the next few days, at least enough to go home.

Every so few hours, Ren’s condition was monitored closely. He was recovering better than expected, yet he’d still have to stay here for a day or two before being discharged, some tens of thousands of yen down the drain, nothing too radically expensive.

As the late evening rolled in, Ren rested some more, with Makoto occupying herself in the chair, putting her jacket over herself. The staff were even generous enough to give her a pillow just so she wouldn’t hurt her own neck. By 9 PM, lights were going out. Ren hadn’t ever felt the inclination to sleep this early, but the more he rested, the better his condition would feel as the days went on. With one last look at Makoto, he rested his head on the pillow, and drifted back off to sleep.

Day 4

Makoto told me to write down my thoughts as I go along, see if I can remember anything. Other thoughts apply too.

I haven’t slept that much in years. 

We got some instant ramen at a nearby convenience store. Pretty salty, still nice. Wish I could make my own at home. I miss it.

You left me to get back to a separate, smaller case. Said you’d be back soon.

Feel sick and nauseous. Doctors told me it’s an after effect of a concussion. Would bypass soon. Was given medication, which might make me drowsy.

I still can’t remember much. I do recall now seeing the woman after some thought. Not good.

I think I saw a shadow stare back at me. Red eyes out in the corner. I’m hallucinating…

Feels like I’m being watched, somehow. Nobody is around but the nurses. I blame the medicine.

Why the fuck am I so angry at something I can’t remember?

Was told that a psychiatrist will evaluate me tonight. His name is Dr. Takuto Maruki.

---------

Hello! This is Doctor Maruki writing. Unfortunately, Ren fought valiantly against his nausea medication. He’s fallen asleep now after his second dose, and he asked me to write down some notes here for you, Ms. Niijima. As I spoke to him before that, and I’ve concluded that he suffers immensely from severe traumatic stress and he has cognitive issues remembering things from the January 15th incident. I tried my best to see if he could get his memory jogged, see if we could push the case any farther - no luck, I’m afraid. The truth will only have to come out naturally.

The bad news, I won’t sugarcoat it. Mentally it will tax him to remember. It might take several weeks, if not months, if ever. He also sounds withdrawn if I cross-reference his psychological profile from before this incident. Be there for him when he needs it.

I am truly sorry I cannot do more for you all. My responsibility is to ensure all my clients are fit for duty, and there’s really no real easy way of saying this.

He may never be the same. If it were up to me, I would discharge him from the team immediately. The content within detective work may not sway him, but the toll will. I did tell him this, and he seemed very adamant on staying because it was important work. I cannot force him to change his mind on that.

The good news is, those are the worst optics available, and while it’s improbable, it’s much more possible that he’ll recover better than ever. All he needs is time, so it’ll be good to be patient! :)

Make sure he’s as healthy as he can be. I’m sure that’s something you already have in mind. - T.M.

Chapter Text

“I am not what happened to me. I am what I choose to become.” - Carl Jung

Day 5

Had another dream last night. Was one with you, it was nice. Futaba was there, too. I think it lines up with what you wanted to know.

Akihiko swung by again early this morning. We played some reflex games together. I’m still sharp, just slow. He’s confident I’ll be getting out by tonight.

Doctors confirmed what Aki told me. I’m going home.

Read Dr. Maruki’s words. He’s right, it’s too important. I remember Naoto selecting me to do it, I can’t disappoint her. Wouldn’t be right.

After some lunch and additional medication to help me, I feel my brain fog getting lighter. I can write better, form sentences more. Yeah, I’m getting discharged. Can’t wait.

January 20th, 20XX
Evening
Niijima Residence

In the later evenings, once Ren was officially discharged and ready to go, Makoto picked him up from the hospital with the help of Sae. Together, all three of them left after lugging Ren’s body into the car. He could walk, but it’d take him a considerable amount of time to get somewhere without supervision. The safest spot, per the Niijimas, was back at their place. That way, they wouldn’t have to stay anywhere and have plenty of room for Ren to work around, get back into the swing of things.

Ren sat by himself, now alone once more after a hearty dinner. Sae returned to her office at the defense attorney firm, and Makoto still had unfinished business with a separate case past The Black Mask one. He was left to his own devices, and at best, the only thing he could do was watch TV.

As he was scrolling through channels, Ren stumbled across the late night news. In the time he’d been gone, police opted to go public on the Black Mask, with an artist’s interpretation of who the serial killer might be: Male, dubbed Kurozukume instead of the police’s designation, and was suspected to be older. No real motive given other than aiming for criminals.

To the rest of the world, this was their general idea of who The Black Mask was. To Ren however…it evoked nothing out of him. It was familiar in an uncanny sort of way, yet not quite. Something was off, but he didn’t know what. Unsettling though it may be, Ren couldn’t shake the feeling that their interpretation lacked something to it.

“The suspect is currently unknown at this time. The police are currently investigating their motive, what their plans are, and to find a link beyond these senseless killings of small-time criminals. Please, we urge you, if you see any individual wearing an uncomfortable amount of black clothing, we highly advise calling the police. Your assistance would be most appreciated.”

Ren turned the TV off afterwards, rolling his eyes and looking at the clock in the wall. 10 PM, it was still too early for him, yet still the same sentiment - get better, sleep more. Sae would return later tonight, but he had no real business with her other than smalltalk.

Get better…get stronger. Get that soon.

He hobbled slowly over to his guest bedroom, trying not to bump into anything to upset his bruised body, and gently flopped his body into bed.

The next morning, Ren woke up early after a tired night of trying not to toss and turn. The pain medication eased him into at least sleeping better, yet it couldn’t fare too well against everything. He heard some footsteps outside of his door before Makoto stepped in quietly. She peered in, seeing if she could see him.

Ren craned his neck up from the noise, lightly groaning. He slowly got up, pushing upwards with his good arm. “Good morning,” he said in a whisper, exhaling out of exhaustion. “How’d work go?”

Makoto stepped in and quietly closed the door behind her. She promptly went ahead to sit next to Ren. “Great. They’re giving me time off to help take care of you now. Consider it a bonus for a job well done closing that case, eheh.”

He smiled, lightly punching Makoto’s arm with his good one. “Way to go, partner. Wish I was there.”

“Well, you were at the forefront of my mind, so in a way you were, right?” Makoto chimed in. “I’m here now…how’re you feeling?”

He gave pause to that, lowering his head and remained unsure of what to say. He sighed, closing his heavy eyes.

“I didn’t sleep too well.” Ren murmured. “I keep thinking…if I close my eyes for a long time, I’m going to be sent somewhere I don’t want to go.”

Ren felt a soft hand brush over his hair before he was leaning in from a hug.

“You’re here now. It’s okay.” Makoto reassured him. “Nothing’s going to hurt you so long as sis and I are here!”

“I get that.” He slowly stood up, lightly groaning from the soreness of attempting to sleep on one side all night. He turned around, now with Makoto standing up with him. “Between that, it just feels…slow. Like I could be doing more.”

Makoto hummed, and squeezed his hand again. “Doctors said it’d take a month. It’s still a long time, Ren. The best medicine is, in fact, resting.”

“Yeah…there’s also something else,” Ren commented. “I want to work again. Get back into the swing of things.”

“That’s…something.” Makoto said, unsure of herself. “But why?”

“...I don’t know what else to do.” He breathed out, pushing himself off the wall. “I wanna go home at some point, too.”

He lumbered forward out of his bedroom, with Makoto in tow. She got ahead of him and stopped Ren from progressing.

“Ren.” She spoke softly. “At least spend some time getting a bit better with us, and then we’ll talk about that.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just…thinking out loud. Planning.” Ren said, sighing. “Could you get a bath warmed up for me?”

“You’re not going in alone either,” Makoto pointed at him sternly. “If you slip and fall that’s entirely on me.”

Ren chuckled, rubbing his chin. “...Could I then at least get some privacy afterwards?”

A short while later, Ren stood alone in the heat of the bathroom, looking over at the bath. The worst part about having a cast around his arm was the fact that even with the slightest movements, sharp pain would always recoil back to him from his dislocated shoulder. He looked at himself in the mirror, staring blankly.

At least a part of his eye had been getting better from its swollen state. Not long after, Makoto arrived back in, now with rolled up sleeves. She placed a firm hand over on his good shoulder, tugging at the sling’s harness.

“Let’s get this off of you, first.” She said.

“I got it.” Ren replied, reaching for the harness with his one good arm, but Makoto was faster, and already on it. Pulling it over him, she delicately rolled her fingers over to the other side. Even through Ren’s casual shirt, she could see how deeply purple the bruise was on his shoulder.

He winced, jaw clenched, shivering in spite of the fact it was warm inside as the sling dropped on the counter’s sink. Now came the even harder part: Getting his shirt off.

With his good arm, Ren tugged at the hems of his shirt as Makoto pulled on the fabrics of the sleeve. Each movement flared his bruises further, but it didn’t hurt as bad as the first day of being awake. His bruises, randomly covering his navel, and his upper chest, were the least painful parts in comparison to his broken arm.

“Allow me,” Makoto interjected, pulling the collared part of his shirt upwards and managing to get one sleeve out. All Ren could do was begrudgingly stare down at the tiled finish, letting her do the delicate work. When it was time to get his bad arm out, she slowly tugged, ensuring not to forcibly make it move out of necessity.

In time, the shirt was pulled off successfully, and Makoto folded it onto the countertop. She took one hard gaze over to Ren’s bruised physique, and pursed her lips. Out of temptation, she rolled her fingers down to the least notable bruises. She was afraid to push further, and slid her hand back, then turned around, facing away from the mirror and into a corner where she could see nothing. “I’m sure you can take your pants off and sit on the stool.”

Ren silently nodded, slowly rolling his pants down. As a small kindness for dignity, at least whoever did this to him had the sensibility not to target his legs too badly. When he was fully naked, Ren used one leg to toss it up to the countertop. A dull pain lingered around his thigh area, which he rolled over with his fingers. Not that he didn’t remember this one, but he already had this part of his memory restored. Getting stabbed is something to tell around the office now.

Ren slowly lowered himself down on the stool, letting out a deep exhale. “Ready.”

Makoto turned around once again, now paying attention to his back. Even here, they attacked him solemnly, maliciously, and with intent. It was not as bad as his front, yet all the same, the large amount of black and purple smudges around Ren’s figure would’ve raised concerns for anyone about whether or not he’d be alright.

She reached for the showerhead and turned the water on. Within seconds, hot water was already spraying out, hot and ready. She saw Ren haplessly sit straight up, and although she could work with that, it might be easier for her to take the lead for this one.

“Lean your head in.” She commanded calmly. He did so, wincing once more at the pain. He closed his eyes as the jets of water cascaded above him for a few moments. Without words, he was holding the showerhead now with Makoto’s direction, and both of her hands were providing a frothy mixture of shampoo and conditioner to his scalp, weaving in and out of every lock. Her hands were slow, methodical. Soothing. He didn’t know how long it lasted, but it felt like forever in a good way. Even after she was done though, Ren still felt the presence of her fingers between the threads, like she was afraid of letting him go.

His partner grabbed a hold of the showerhead after a considerable amount of time, rinsing her hands thoroughly before letting the warm waters rush over him again. Even at its most gentle paces, the jets caused a dull, throbbing pain against his bad shoulder. Once they were done, Ren leaned straight back up again, just in time for him to feel a gentle lather on his back.

Strangely, despite the fact that bruises were still present, the pain was…oddly comforting to Ren. He could at least feel it, and that was good news. Morbid, but good. Of all the things Makoto was doing in the meanwhile, subtly was not one of her strong suits.

“I know what you’re going to say.” Makoto said, breaking the monotony of water jets.

“What?” Ren asked, slightly turning his head around.

“That I am…blameless, for what happened.”

“You are.” Ren agreed. “Don’t act like you’re not.”

The soft scrubbing of the loofah stopped close to his legs, alongside Makoto’s movements. She wanted to say something on it as she usually does, but Ren wouldn’t allow her. Instead, he grabbed it and its soapy contents to continue on his own. It didn’t take him long after to stop as well, another memory coming along as he glided over the purple bruise on his shoulder.

“Makoto.” He spoke softly, almost wanting to turn around. “It was better if you weren’t there. They would’ve tried to rape you.”

“...What?” She asked, a small panic running across her voice. “Hang on, did you just remember that?”

He nodded, moving down to his front legs now. “Yeah. I…you know.” He trailed off, unsure of how else to explain.

She was rendered speechless, yet it was unsurprising as she brushed her hand against his good shoulder. The next thought however was something Ren expected. “Did they…?”

“Almost.” He said, spontaneously. “Let’s just say I used my head and got out of that…and if it kept you safe, I would’ve endured.” 

He passed the loofah back to her. “So no, it’s not your fault.”

“Ren…” Makoto wanted to say, but she trailed off, cleaning his back once again. In the long silence, she could only hum in affirmation of the fact before passing the loofah back to him.

He looked behind him as best as he could, feeling Makoto’s soft breath on his skin. “It will never be your fault that you let me go. If anything…it was mine. I should’ve been the one to ask you to come with me, I should’ve just let it go and enjoyed my time at Leblanc. I should’ve done many things.”

The showerhead continued running, letting Ren feel its jets graze his skin. “I hate to rush but can I go into the bath now?”

Not another word came out of her as Makoto blinked and stood up, putting the showerhead back to its original position, shutting the jets off. As she was making her way out, she turned around and faced Ren, crouching down. “I’m gonna hover around the door. If I hear anything wrong I’m coming in immediately.”

He extended his hand out, which Makoto took and looked away from to help pull Ren up, then he set aside the stool in the corner. With that out of the way, Ren put one feet into the tub and then the other, and once Makoto looked back to see he was in properly, she closed the door. A small slump was heard, indicating that Makoto slid downwards.

Now, having sat in the bath’s warmed waters, his bruises ached as they lapped against him. It was a different kind of ache this time, one meant to heal. To remind. The dampness from his still wet hair clung onto his temples, and the steam loosened muscles where it could. Pain was the reminder that what he felt was real, even if he couldn’t wrap his head around it fully. He closed his eyes, seeing stars reflect back in the dark. Briefly, he attempted to ripple the waters with his bad hand.

Somewhat of a big mistake, because all it did was remind him that he wasn’t supposed to move it frequently. Ren winced at the sharpness of the ache, and groaned. If not for the water being warm enough to help remind him that he could feel again, the pain certainly grounded him back into reality.

There was a light knock on the door shortly afterwards. “Ren?” Makoto called out, concern lingering in her voice. “What was that?”

“...I’m fine,” Ren responded. “Clearly I slipped and fell.”

“That is not funny mister!” Makoto said sternly, but Ren could hear her stifle a bit of laughter.

At least my jokes are still intact.

“I can hear you, you know?” Ren shot back.

“Don’t make me come in there,” She threatened in retaliation.

Ren let the water ripple around him, lightly splashing the bath with his hands. “Please do, the water’s just fine.” He joked.

Makoto sighed and planted her head against the door again, leading to a loud thud. “Let me know when you’re done.”

He didn’t respond, leaning his head back and gazing up at the ceiling, softly brushing against his bruises. The long silence returned again, deafening once more as Ren’s tinnitus rang in his ears. He didn’t appreciate it, and once more he let small waves dictate a break in the emptiness. “What’s for breakfast?” Ren asked, further breaking apart the quiet.

Makoto was heard humming after that. “I feel like you could use something warm and comforting…what do you feel about udon noodle soup with some soft-boiled eggs?”

“Nice appetizer I feel. Was also thinking that yakiniku could be tasty for lunch. Get some cheese melting with it, or get egg yolks with it…let it burn for a nice crispy outer layer…yeah.”

She scoffed, whilst simultaneously giggling. “We’re not even past breakfast and your mind’s already debating lunch? Ren, I didn’t take you to be a glutton. All that protein too…maybe I should hook you up with Chie.”

“I’ll pay,” Ren insisted. “Treat myself.”

She forced a laugh afterwards. “Sure. Let’s take Akihiko and Chie too, I’m sure they’ll be delighted they found a new protein buddy.”

And so treat myself I shall, Ren thought happily to himself. It was almost enough to crack a smile.

January 28th, 20XX
Evening
Ren’s Apartment

Earlier in the afternoon…

“It’s been a week and the killings aren’t getting any better,” Ren overheard one of the officers in the precinct say outside of his own office. The sound was muffled, but he could hear through the walls. “You hear also? One of our guys was hit. He just got out.”

He tried to block out the noise, writing down more notes in his notebook while reading up on other cases, giving his inputs where it would matter. All he could draw were blanks on the memories, whatever made sense to him at the time suddenly became disjointed. It didn’t line up properly, it was nonsense. All he could do was scribble on the notebook now. Angrily, Ren scrapped the paper and rolled it up into a ball, haphazardly tossing it into the recycle bin.

What do they fucking know? I survived, didn’t I? You should be happy. Or, do you wanna tell me I’m just another number?

A body not in control with its host was useless, so he was told, or rather, that was what he told himself. It always seemed like even though everybody knew he was recovering, it didn’t make the process go any faster. He felt sluggish, impatient, and irritated at the fact.

“Buddy,” Akihiko spoke to him. “I get it. It’s hard when you’re not at peak performance, and this happened. Don’t let it get to ya.”

“Then stand up for me?” Ren retorted, raising his voice. “Do you think it’s easy, being me right about now? Every so often I have to keep looking behind me, wondering if they’re gonna finish me off. Every night I feel like I’m being watched without my goddamn permission! What am I supposed to fucking do?!”

Akihiko bluntly said, “Ren, I get it. We’re here for you man,” He continued, putting his hand on Ren’s good shoulder. “All of us. Trust me when we say we’re trying. It’s not intentional you feel this way.”

Ren took in a deep breath and swallowed, furrowing his eyebrows. He wet his lips and felt his gaze soften. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just…”

Akihiko tapped his shoulder again. “You ain’t gotta say anything. I’ve been there. I can promise you one thing: It will get better. Trust the process. Forgive yourself, and don’t hold anything back.”

“Yeah…I know, I know…” Ren repeated, slinking his head down.

“Hey.” Akihiko called out, letting a gentle hand brush over Ren’s shoulder. “It’s the first step, right?”

Ren couldn’t answer. Rather, he had no definitive answer to that. The memory faded afterwards as he leaned back on his chair, replaying that scene in his head over and over again in silence. He didn’t have to yell at Akihiko like that. In truth, he probably shouldn’t have. All the same, he was understanding of it - it’s hard trying to remember something that’s important to the overarching case files.

The Black Mask’s reign of terror wasn’t ending, but it was being a lot more subtle. Bodies were piling, and Ren wasn’t allowed to see them. The black bat still remained a mystery, all points leading to them, but nobody else seemed to think about it because it was too coincidental.

Ren stood up slowly, peering his own curated view of the case files displayed out on a blackboard across from him. He thumbed his chin and glossed over the details. For personal reasons as to not to reopen trauma unnecessarily, photos were removed aside from anything non-gorey, non-blood relevant - instead, Ren got photos of the dead criminals in mugshots.

Three dead criminals and a surviving member of the Tokyo police force, bat in hand, covered in pools of blood and fractured bones. A scuffle clearly occurred, and nobody knew the real outcome. No footprints, no real traces of a potential fourth perpetrator, and the mysterious woman who phoned in this incident to bring attention to the crime scene. Everything was circumstantial, all of it completely unable to be lined up.

Ren was excluded from even the possibility of killing at least two of the criminals, and the one that he struggled to even remember had his name written all over it, and it was written off as self-defense. At best, the beer bottle that was stuck in one of their throats had his prints, but it could’ve easily been disproven the angle was correct to begin with - the man could’ve overstepped, could’ve done many things leading to his demise.

The question still remained about the woman - Emichika Ishida - and the blonde man whose identity…

A knock on his door was heard, disrupting Ren’s train of thought and, after hobbling over to the door, he opened it up. It was Makoto.

“Hey,” Ren greeted.

“Hey yourself,” Makoto answered, swinging in to give Ren a quick hug. She saw Ren was hovering over the blackboard. “Take a break from that and think about this tonight: We do some fish and crispy tofu. How about it?”

Ren gave pause to that momentarily, eyes flicking from the board back to his desk. He gathered his belongings for the night, holding onto his notebook from his bad arm - one that was dulling in pain, and not so much of a big deal anymore, yet was still enveloped in a sling. He’d gotten used to it by now, and with that came compromises. 

After gauging some more thoughts, Ren glanced back at Makoto. “Sounds absolutely wonderful. You got groceries?”

She smiled, letting her hand dangle out for Ren to catch. “I did! Whenever you’re ready then?”

Ren halted, taking a look over at the board in his room again. about The Black Mask killings. He gazed for a long time at it as Makoto rubbed her arm worriedly. Ren let his hand slump down, now focusing back at it.

“I’ve been thinking.” Ren said, pointing over to the board. “It might sound crazy, but please bear with me. What if…what if I was saved by The Black Mask?”

Makoto stared at the board with him, mouth slightly agape. “W-well that’d be kind of impossible, wouldn’t it? That survivor we interrogated all the way back at the beginning was a fluke. There’s been nobody else to survive his killings.” She took Ren’s hand into her own. “Whoever he is, he clearly has no qualms about killing indiscriminately. I mean, what purpose would they have for you?”

“...A warning, maybe?” Ren questioned it too. It didn’t make sense either, yet it didn’t stop him from approaching another angle.

“If it was a warning then your blood would’ve been on the walls and your body wouldn’t have been in the pile, or worse, not even found. Yet, you’re here, and you’re alive.”

He didn’t want to believe it. Ren gripped his good hand together and eased up, almost simulating the touch of a bat in his hand. “I know for a fact I didn’t kill them, but…” He sighed, now facing back at her.

“Think about it, Makoto.” He insisted. “There’s been a serial killer on the loose and they’ve been going after criminals, their main weapon was a bat. You found me with three other murder victims, and a bat that left no trace except what was my DNA and everyone else’s around me. It’s entirely black, it fits the motif.”

She didn’t want to hear any more. With her index finger, she hushed Ren on his lips. “I don’t expect you to think too hard on this, even if Chie-chan or Aki-kun ask you to. Anybody could’ve approached with a bat and saved you. And besides, what reason would The Black Mask be a cop killer for?”

“Do you not believe me, then?” Ren asked calmly, in between her index finger.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Makoto corrected. “It’s just…your mind might be trying to string together things that make some sort of sense, things that don't line up with what we know. You’ve also written down that you’re feeling hallucinations, so…I mean…i-it was a woman who called you, and you said --”

“I know what I said.” Ren interjected. “And we still have no idea who that is…and I can’t quite shake the feeling I know them, I just don’t know where.”

“Do you think it was someone from Shujin that might’ve left you an impression? Some girl who might’ve been interested in you, perchance?”

He sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead. “You know what…? Let’s just forget about work tonight. I’ve had a long day.”

He gave up, admitting defeat on his reach of logic. It seemed insane to ever consider, especially the circumstances. Makoto was right though, it could just be his brain trying to process stress and, obviously, hallucinations. If he were to trust Dr. Maruki’s instincts, he’d have to forgo this ridiculous conclusion.

Makoto nodded. “Agreed, then. Fish and tofu await!” She said, smiling and then took him by his arms. 

They exited out of the precinct and back into their police cruiser, Makoto opening the door for Ren so he wouldn’t have to stress about it, and her sliding back in just fine. As Ren got his seatbelt on, he tried to forget what he spoke to Makoto about. She was right, it was crazy.

After much deliberation, Ren was allowed to go home to his apartment under the condition Makoto still supervised his care. She was willing, after all, to help out with anything he needed. Not that she didn’t trust Ren enough, but he felt like he needed someone there. He wanted agency, something to help him remind himself that he didn’t need to depend on others if he could take care of things himself. Living at the Niijima’s was comfy, but it wasn’t something he was looking for right now.

He cherished the fact Makoto was always there. The only thing he wished was that he could return the favor at some point.

As he returned home, Ren took a seat at the edge of his bed, listening to the ambience of Makoto cooking over in the background. He slowly took off his sling once more, and delicately got out of his work uniform to fit into something warmer, putting it back on once he got comfy as comfy could get.

Even within the confines of his own home however, Ren felt restless. The bulk of his memories weren’t seemingly coming back, and that felt like the cause. As far as he could remember, the events of his life felt out of order. A huge piece missing, like a hole that just couldn’t be easily filled.

Without a word, Ren slipped outside of his apartment as Makoto was occupied. He wanted to walk, to feel aimless and free, to roam and not be bothered by anything.

Outside, the cool air hit his face alongside the gentle breeze. It wasn’t too cold outside for tonight, one of those rare warm winter nights in Japan. With no sense of direction, he went downstairs and past the police cruiser parked there. Wherever the wind took him, he followed. No real destination in mind, just a moment to himself.

Ren went past a convenience store at some point, across several other shops that were due to close any time now. Despite the peace…he felt like he was being watched from somewhere. He stopped in his tracks, then turned around. In the darkness, there was nothing to be found. Just as he turned, that sensation was gone.

Whether or not he was paranoid or someone truly was watching him seemed…mixed. Nevertheless, Ren went back and continued marching forward. It didn’t take long for him to get the same sensation that he was being watched, and this time, he saw a moderately black cat with white spots pass him by in the corner of an alleyway. It gave him a brief look, and Ren saw how brightly blue its eyes were as they crossed paths.

Though dimly lit, Ren trudged along, following the stray cat. It noticed he was following him, and turned around. Without missing a beat, the cat approached him, lightly meowing. Ren smiled, for perhaps what was the first time in a little while. He slowly crouched down, letting the cat sniff his hand. It promptly did so, then gently nuzzled.

“Hey little guy,” Ren said, fully aware the cat wouldn’t respond. “You must be hungry, huh?”

The cat purred as it promptly marked Ren by brushing up against him, and then circled around. Ren breathed softly and checked back on the street he passed. Convenience stores carried cans of tuna, that much he knew…yet he wasn’t sure if it was unsafe with various ingredients. Nevertheless, he was compelled.

He stood up, although he stumbled a bit from the loss of balance and still being unused to not having two functional hands. The cat followed Ren as he went into the convenience store around the corner. By the time he came back out, he had a couple of cans purchased, with one already open by the help of the cashier inside.

As he went outside to look for the cat, he noticed that it was patiently awaiting him, sitting politely. Ren chuckled, and then set the can of tuna down. After a couple of sniffs, the cat proceeded to chow down. Ren took a seat next to the store, noting that some other customers exited the store shortly after he did. He breathed a sigh of satisfaction.

It was the little things that mattered, and having watched that cat happily find its meal at the hands of his own doing, that was a job well done. In-between its own dinner time, the cat came up to him repeatedly, brushing its scent over on his leg, not that he minded it at all either.

Once it finished eating, the cat jumped up onto his lap and purred immensely as he gave it some headpats and brushed its fur with his fingers.

Even this peace was short-lived, as the sounds of footsteps alerted the cat, forcing it to run away. Ren extended his hand out almost as if he wanted to catch it, but he couldn’t. The extra cans of tuna would have to be savored for later.

As for the source of the footsteps…he heard the sounds of distress.

“I can’t find him, oh my god…” It was familiar. It was Makoto’s voice.

“Makoto?” He called out. Within mere moments, Makoto’s figure emerged from the dark, illuminated by the convenience store lights. Her visage was that of shock, exasperation, and joy all at once.

“Ren!” She called back, hanging up the phone, reaching out to hug him again. “Oh, thank goodness…”

Ren stood up, feeling the weight of Makoto’s body lightly slam into his once he got into her hug. “You scared me half to death,” Makoto continued, now catching her breath. “Don’t do that to me!”

“Sorry. I wanted some air and…well, there was a cat.” Ren replied. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“You could’ve told me.”

“I know. I thought it’d be quick.”

And it wasn’t. Truly, life didn’t really come to meet expectations like that and walk away all smoothly either. Dinner was ready, that much was certain. He felt a light tug as Makoto dragged him back home, tuna cans still in his possession. As Ren turned the corner, he saw the cat run off into the dark, and hoped some day he’d see it again.

Over time, across the next few weeks, Ren’s condition improved. His shoulder no longer ached as badly, and the sling was gone. He still couldn’t do too much in terms of heavy lifting, but he was free to live in peace. The hardest part of getting back into the physicality of it all was getting back to it again. It’s getting normal, or so…that was what Ren thought.

No matter where he went, there were some scars that just couldn’t heal as quickly. The nightmares still persisted - perverse, twisted, cruel. There was no joy to it most days as he rationalized it as a side effect. His memory was still foggy, perhaps the greatest deterrent. 

The turnabout still stirs.

February 13th, 20XX
Late Evening
SIU Offices

Day 28

Almost a full month has passed since I woke up at that hospital. Futaba’s birthday is in a few days, and I still haven’t figured out what to give to her yet. What do you give to someone who has no interest in anything but fandom-based stuff? I’m not used to this sort of thing. She told me we’ll have our curry redo on her birthday, make it extra special.

There’s a part of me who’s trying to laugh again. I should feel proud of that. I still haven’t found that cat from the alleyway a while back, I hope it’s okay. You know what else I can’t shake? The feeling I’m always being watched. Any time I think it’s coming from somewhere, it’s gone.

Arm still hurts. Sometimes my legs get sore when I wake up. Gonna be a couple more weeks until that finishes healing, I think. I can’t walk for long, maybe a couple of blocks, maybe less. I can’t do lifts, can’t really carry around a book too much. Ears stopped ringing too, thank god.

I’m sleeping better at night…yet one nightmare keeps me up every week instead of every night. I try not to think about it too much, something bad clings to those memories. Akihiko was right, it does get better over time, a little TLC never hurt anyone.

…I still wonder from time to time what would’ve happened if Makoto came with me. What if she saved me, or maybe cut off that woman I was chasing after? What if I didn’t get backed into a corner, what then?

It’s probably best I don’t dwell. Nothing good comes out of it. And

“Ren-kun?” Chie knocked on his office door. “Can I come in?”

“It’s open,” Ren called out as Chie stepped in, taking a seat. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Chie repeated back with a nervous smile. “So, Makoto went home already. She asked me to drive you home after this, if it’s alright?”

“Yeah. Let her take the day off in peace and whatnot.” Ren chuckled. “You know where I live, right?”

She nodded. “Pretty far away from me, but here we are!” She chuckled, yet it felt like there was one last thing before Ren could go home.

“What is it?” Ren asked, steepling his hands together. “Can you not drop me off either?”

“There’s just uh…a new development that came through. I don’t know how else to tell you this outright.”

“Again, what is it?” He repeated, tilting his head.

She nervously laughed, wetting her lips. “We…found some evidence. Of your kidnapping.”

Ren’s face went pale, and Chie stood up first.

“Ren, I gotta know, since Makoto’s privy to it too. You’ll be alright, right?”

“Show me.” He said.

“I need assurances, dude.” Chie said, but Ren wasn’t listening. He went on without her, exiting his office.

A long line of members from the force were gathered around Akihiko’s office by the time Ren and Chie went over to the other side of the department. It was hard to push through the crowd, especially those who were now giving Ren an expression mixed full of concern and confusion. He overheard whispers, mostly indistinct. Across the room, he could hear the recording all the way from back at the hospital being played aloud.

That voice, that fucking voice. It was that woman again. Ren’s tinnitus reappeared all of a sudden - something he hadn’t anticipated. His hands began tingling, and his vision blurred, yet he did not know why. Against all odds, however, he must know. He pushed ahead, getting within distance of Akihiko’s office amidst the crowd.

Playing on his big monitor was a video feed from late in the afternoon on January 15th. Though it was small from his perspective, Ren pushed forward past several other people blockading his way. From the angle it was being played at, he only saw a black blob figure standing at a small alleyway from any old street in Tokyo.

A phantom pain began acting up. With a sense of sharpness tumbling down, Ren firmly gripped the area where his bad shoulder was. His chest tightened in response to what the woman was saying.

“Ren?” Chie called out softly behind him. “Is your shoulder doing alright?”

He felt her words reverb, and the hushed whispers around him began to muffle, leaving faint trails of echoes bouncing around the walls. He did not answer her, only observing the video recording from afar.

“Hello…” The voice of the woman repeated, like an echo across time.

Ren’s breathing turned shallow and the pain in his shoulder amplified, piercing heavier than ever. For some inexplicable reason, his vision and hearing blurred everything but what the monitor the video was playing alongside the audio of the recording.

The black figure turned around, pulling something up from her face and the video paused for several seconds within frame, eyes as clear as day. Then, and only then, did Ren realize…

It was her.

The surgical black mask. The full hooded cloak. All enshrouded, impossible to see. Yet those eyes - the ones matching one equal to that of a predator, the ones he could never forget, stared back at him on the camera feed. The video looped back, lining up with the recording. Her face was obscured then, having taken the mask off and pulling it down to their chin. A phone was in her hand as she dialed a number, and what was being matched on the screen matched the timing of the recorder. “Hello…” the recording started again. Everything else ran mute.

Crow.

Like clockwork, Ren saw the fluorescent lights above him flicker once again, yet nobody else seemed to notice. He remembered her name, as horrifying memories flooded his head, and Ren remembered everything now. How he managed to dislocate his shoulder, why he was at the hospital, and why her voice was so familiar.

All of the beatings he endured, his entire thought process. Like someone had just poured a gallon of water into a half-full glass cup, overflowing. Everything - from every detail, the scent of blood, Crow’s face, now reformed back into his memory. He would’ve crumpled then and there on the floor if Chie hadn’t caught him almost stumbling, his breathing heavily uneven. 

He couldn’t hear what Crow had to say in the video aside from salutations - all he could hear was an overwhelming white noise overtake his senses, muting everything else until the only thing he could trust was what he saw before him.

“Ren, get up!” Chie loudly whispered into his ear. “What’s up with you?”

As the video ended once more before looping back, Ren could not stop staring directly into Crow’s eyes any chance they were on the screen, those haunted eyes staring directly into his soul. It was like she was mocking him, smiling behind that mask after she completed the call. She knew what she did, what the implications were to what Ren was feeling right then and there. This entire time, he was onto something nobody else was. It wasn’t a hallucination, wasn’t complete and utter delusion he pieced together. It was as if…

She planned this all along.

Akihiko shouted, slamming his fists on the table before supporting his temples with one arm. “This doesn’t make a goddamn bit of fucking sense!” It ended up disrupting the recording and the silence. His back was turned, completely unaware Ren was close by. “Everything we knew about The Black Mask is now out of the goddamn window...what does any of this mean?”

He turned around. “What do you mean that…” He stopped midway, just in time to see Ren frozen in fear. Akihiko’s face softened as he looked around, peering at his fellow policemen.

“Can I…go now…?” Ren spoke, voice shaking. 

“Ren,” Akihiko said dryly. “Wait.”

Without another word, Ren turned back around and began walking away. The police around him made their way for him, but others had to be gently pushed out.

“Ren!” Chie called out to him a third time. “Come back!”

He wasn’t listening. He was only running away.

“It’s a woman,” several people whispered behind Ren, their own confusion wrecking any sense of grounding to his brain. “The Black Mask is a woman? Did she save…?”

Chie struggled to get to him, trying several times to grab a hold of him, only to fail, just out of reach. “Ren, please!” she begged, only for nothing to be the answer.

Ren exited out of the building, endlessly staring at the dark night outside, almost tumbling over his own steps. He merely stood there, frozen. Numb. Unable to process anything as his bruises ached once more, like a phantom wailing.

He wanted to wail, too, yet any chance he got ended with a resounding nothing.

Chie exited the building shortly thereafter. She stood with Ren beside him, also in the horror of what she witnessed. Ren knew she was there, feeling her presence nearby.

“Just take me home,” He said, emotionless, yet with the weight of a thousand burdens. “Please, take me home…”

Chie was hesitant as she bit her thumb, balling a fist in the other, as if she’d done something terribly wrong. She was unsure of what she could even remotely do right now, except ground him. Chie got in front of him, and Ren did not even adjust his gaze to acknowledge she was there.

“Hey. Hey hey hey,” Chie repeated, like a small chant. She tugged at his sleeves. “Listen to my voice. Do you hear me?”

Ren said nothing, mouth left hanging slightly ajar.

She tried to tug his sleeves again, this time, enough to make him feel it. “I’m here, Ren, I’m real, and so are you. Look at me, will you?”

He did. He softly mouthed her name. Chie leaned in closer to his ears, ensuring he could hear her. She gently cupped his cheeks in her hands, eyes searching for any semblance of life in him.

“It was just a video recording. A screen. That’s not real, Ren. But I am.”

It was enough. Ren exhaled, almost breathlessly, and lightly shook his head around her hands. He was struggling to form words, and Chie grabbed onto his own hands instead.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought up anything to you…let’s get you somewhere safe. Somewhere quiet, yeah?” She softly said, pursing her lips again to form a smile out of it.

The night drew onwards, as did Chie alongside Ren in her own car, silently driving back. Ren felt a wistful sense overcome him as he tried, slowly, to process everything he could. Everything in his head was a mess, and even with the missing pieces of the puzzle back together, it still made no sense. The formation felt like 1,000 pieces coming together after so long, and the end result was…incomprehensible.

But he called it, and that’s what terrified him the most. That, even in his moments of weakness, he knew deep down something connected him, even if it felt like a stretch. Small pole lights danced on its way past them inside the car as Ren felt a hideous sense of anguish rush him from all directions. He killed someone, and he couldn’t even remember that even in spite of evidence. It wasn’t in self-defense, rather it was in force.

Shortly afterwards, he felt a soft tug on his sleeve once again as Chie was helping him get out. He hadn’t even realized they arrived back at his own apartment once it finally registered to him, and Chie followed him all the way inside. She shut the door behind temporarily, leaving Ren to stand in between hallways.

She placed a hand on his arm, lightly brushing it up and down. “Take the day off tomorrow, nobody’ll blame you. I’ll let Makoto know, too.”

Ren only let out a muttering grunt in response. She guided him into his own bedroom, and left him there. Then, she returned with another small glass of water, placing it somewhere he could access without spilling.

Begrudgingly, Chie clasped her hands together. “I hate that I can’t stay and watch over you. I want to, but…I’ll try and swing by tomorrow afternoon with Akihiko and Makoto, alright?”

Ren nodded mechanically, and Chie lowered her eyes down onto the floor. “Okay...don't do anything drastic on me, Ren. I promise I will find you tomorrow.”

The door shut, leaving Ren in darkness, and then another. Chie was gone, and he haplessly fell onto his bed, crawling over to the pillow. His chest tightened again, only this time, not in one of panic, but one of pain. 

He stared longingly at the ceiling, tossing and turning around until his eyes met that of the aluminum bat across the way, and then felt a hot stream of tears flow down. Inevitably, the fatigue overtook him.

Chapter Text

“In certain situations, the law is inadequate. In order to shame its inadequacy, it is necessary to act outside the law. To pursue…natural justice. This is not vengeance.”

February 14th, 20XX
Early Morning
Valentine’s Day
Ren’s Apartment

In the early hours of life, Ren walked about his apartment with uncertainty. He did not feel the urge to eat, as if a dried and irritated rope held his stomach. Even the mornings felt dark. The main foyer was half-lit, covered in curtains. He did not know how many hours of sleep he truly got last night, having been woken up in recurrence.

The phone rang across the counter when he was washing the dishes from the past week. He did not pick up, letting it ring and ring incessantly. After it stalled out, he heard Makoto’s voice for the third time in the morning.

“Ren, please pick up…I worry about you. I…I just want to know you’re okay. Please.”

The message ended, unanswered.

He stared, emotionlessly at the soapy water and an unrinsed dish. There was a routine going, yet it was slow. With sluggishness, Ren propped open the sink again, letting water flow as he drained it, this time with hot water. When he finished, he wiped his hands on a dish rag, now investigating the fridge.

Nothing was in there aside from bare essentials. The last tidbit of milk, miso soup mixes, and other usable ingredients that wouldn’t sate him.

Coffee was ready, yet its inviting scent did not feel as homely as it should. Cup in hand, phone in another. Ren poured a small portion out, and hopped outside on his balcony.

Birds sang. The early commuters chatted. Outside, a distant car’s gasket fired its dying breath loudly - startling him. He sat down, noting the gentle wind pressing against him and his unkempt hair, the cold morning air warming up against the sun’s touch.

Four eggs, vegetable stock, soy sauce, mirin. Mix it with udon noodles, scallions, sesame oil, and sea salt. Add black pepper last. Rice, not needed. Plenty in a huge bag.

Routine.

Ren’s grocery list. One made out of Makoto’s recipe from a little while back.

He lightly tapped everything he could remember of a recipe, simple soul food to ease him back into a sense of comfort. In spite of everything that happened from the night before, hot food came to mind. Ren took a sip of his coffee - tasting of burnt pretzels instead of its usual hints of fruit and sweetness. He finished it nevertheless. Clouds parted away from the sun by the time he finished.

As Ren returned inside, he cleaned up his cup of coffee instead of letting it sit neglected. When he finished, he put on a jacket and a small scarf. When he stepped outside, the jingle of his keys against the locked door was all but confirmation that he wanted to know before he locked it safely.

The world moved quietly around Ren. In a month from now, vibrant colors would re-emerge from this muted palette he was given, and the people would be much happier in warmer weather. For him, the tunes they spoke of was something he couldn’t focus on - the mundanity of a regular life, a blur.

The store itself was quiet, yet bustling all the same. Pasty white paint and a muffled 80s city-pop soundtrack helped maintain its otherwise stale ambience, broken up only by the standard helpful sales reminders and typical American Top 40’s music. When he ventured inside, there was a mechanical method to it all. Pick up a handheld basket, go to every aisle, and do not stop to check discounts for sales or any off-the-beaten path objects he could find a use for. By the end, pay for everything, get receipts, don’t even make any time for smalltalk.

Everything Ren was doing was like following a shade of himself, leading him to wherever he needed to go rather than where he wanted. Even now, that sensation of being watched was prevalent, and this time, he didn’t care.

Before long, he was back home already, never stopping to investigate or check anything else. Another phone call rang to him, another from Makoto. This time however, no voicemail.

Setting groceries aside and in the fridge where necessary, Ren sat down, opening up his television. He observed rather than watched, drinking in news cycles and flipping channels without a goal in sight on where he’d land. History channels, comedy standup shows, epic action spectacles, all skipped, only ever flipping back to news.

Not boring, but aimless.

His stomach growled at some point, and he did not check the time. Instead, he pulled up a recipe from the internet on his phone, simultaneously receiving a reminder from Chie:

“Be there around noon as promised. I’ll take you somewhere nice, how’s that sound?”

This, too, remained unanswered, but at the very least Ren acknowledged it. When he reviewed the recipe, he followed along step-by-step mentally…until he got to the part where it was the final touch. His eyes glossed over his phone, re-reading the step a couple more times before it hit him.

I am missing butter…god damn it.

For just a brief moment, Ren chuckled to himself, feeling like a fool. He should’ve double checked on his way to the grocery store. Now, he had to go back. Thankfully, his apathy prevented him from changing clothes back - a plus, a small kindness.

Ren exited his apartment again, keys jingling once more as he locked it, and went down the stairs. When he crossed the corner past the convenience store, another stray cat rolled past him. He thought he spotted the same one he’d been longing to see - a small change in route. 

He followed the cat back into an alleyway, only to realize it was an orange one rummaging through trash. Inevitably, it pulled out the remains of an already picked-through fish, yet it kept it in its mouth and ran off, half-heartedly acknowledging his existence with a quick glance before running away.

Ren returned to his trails, and then arrived at the grocery store. That small change was all that kept him going, kept him curious. It would feel most awkward, grabbing only butter. He made it his mission to grab something more, something of substance. Something easy, even. His mind lingered over to instant ramen, before jumping back to his first hospital day with Makoto.

Maybe I’ll give her a call when I get home. Apologize. Say I was sleeping in.

On his new shopping basket, Ren put in unsalted butter, then went to the aisle for ramen, its colorful arrays otherwise betraying his worldview for today. A little splash never hurt anyone. Before long, just as he put in glass noodles into his basket, he wanted worcestershire sauce, a new bottle of ketchup, and some skinless and boneless chicken thighs - off he went, and then he paid at a different cashier.

With a new bag in his hand, Ren made his trek back home, coming up the stairs. When he fished his pockets for his keys, he accidentally dropped them onto the floor. With a small sigh, he set down his grocery bag and picked up the keys, then, as he jiggled the key inwards, the door opened.

“...Huh?” Ren muttered to himself. He checked inside briefly - nobody was inside. Did he forget to unlock it?

I must’ve. I mean, I’m distracted…can’t even believe I forgot butter.

Picking up his bag again, Ren entered inside, taking off his shoes and lightly patting both of them down on the mat before stepping onto his wood finished flooring. As he suspected, the TV he left on was still on, nothing else was out of the ordinary. Without another thought, Ren went into the kitchen, blindly setting his grocery bag down onto the countertop.

Then, he already noticed something off. The stove was already set, water boiling his udon noodles from earlier, near readying itself to be al dente, and his soft-boiled eggs were already set aside in cold water.

His attention now turned over to another unseen section of his living room: From the glance he saw, it was normal. But as he got deeper, there were now three individuals kneeling with their hands tied behind their backs, and knapsacks over their heads. One struggled with their restraints, one sat in silence, and the last one let out a muffled scream, almost feminine-like.

Ren backed himself out of the kitchen. He didn’t realize it then, but the door shut loudly.

“Oh my...” A sultry voice softly whispered behind him. Ren’s mind froze at the words, and his body ran an exceedingly fast chill up his spine - he reflexively snapped around, only to be met with a heavy slam meant to disorient. He tumbled down, a small pain flashing into his ribs, but he was restrained fully from falling.

Then his eyes met her gaze, once again - it's brown-crimson colors piercing his own. Unmasked, once more, without cloak.

“No…” Ren mouthed, his breath returning to its seemingly familiar uneven state.

Crow smiled at him gently, her expression shifting into unbridled elation. “Welcome home, my dear!”

No.

NO!

Why is this happening again…?!

Ren found himself, now strapped to a chair - his own chair - in the comfort of his own home. He didn’t even struggle when he saw her, and didn’t even register that the ropes felt like they were burning against his skin. Her flow of movement remained as effortless as the day he saw her, and somehow she glided her way to escorting him from his fall into his imprisonment. It wasn’t just the light he saw from many nights ago that made Crow look the way she did.

Pale enough others would believe she was frigid, if not a little sickly, like she was not meant to be out in the day, yet she walked against the sun regardless, her lurid shade a stark contrast against the homeliness of Ren’s apartment.

He sat, drenched in fear, as Crow hummed a jaunty tune to herself, chopping up the butter and eggs in the kitchen - each ending cut firmly landing against the block, giving Ren a sense of panic. Cold sweat ran down. Even here, he didn’t feel safe.

“My darling needs sustenance. You’re a little paler than I last remember,” Crow softly spoke to Ren. “Have you been eating well, sweetheart?”

“What do you want from me…?” Ren said with his voice shaking, ignoring her question entirely.

“Why, I’m here to consummate our marriage.” Crow said teasingly, taking a seat opposite him at the table he was restrained at. “After all, you’ve left me wanting.” She set both bowls of udon down, taking off her leather jacket and wrapping it around the headrest of her seat. 

She returned back to the kitchen, effortlessly grabbing a clean glass and filling it with water. “It’s so flattering you’ve kept my bat safe with you…” She rolled her index finger up its smooth, metallic finish. “You must’ve missed me so terribly …” She said, pulling the bat out from the hallway, letting its hollow sounds reverberate as it was being pulled into Ren’s sights, lazily hanging around Crow’s side of her armrest. “I missed my husband too, you know...your face, your scent …”

She sat back down, then promptly snapped open a pair of chopsticks. With an extended inhale, steam vacuuming itself into her nose, Crow smiled wickedly at her culinary work. She took a big sip from the glass, then focused her attention back to Ren.

“Not bad, if I do say so myself…” she muttered before picking up and gently blowing on her noodles. “I have so many tools, yet you’ve kept the one that’s special - the one that’s a part of you from the day we met. That makes me so happy!” 

She quietly stared at Ren, who was still struggling to escape his restraints, watching his eyes dart helplessly around, as if he were searching for something - anything - to help him.

She giggled, letting her face rest on her hands. “Come now, don’t be such a baby…you must understand that as your beloved wife, I’m responsible for you, right?”

He did not respond to her. His eyes returned longingly back to the people kneeled on the floor. Crow briefly caught on, humming delightfully.

“Ah, those three. Adorable, you’re already so eager…” She smirked, focusing her gaze over to them.

“How did you even find me?” He quickly shifted the topic to something else, forcing Crow to turn back around. She leaned closer to the table, closer to Ren.

“Oh? Did you not seem to believe I already knew where you lived by watching you from afar?” She cracked a smile again. “Surely, something must’ve told you I was around. The feeling of being watched? A glimpse around in the dark, perhaps…?”

She licked her lips seductively, moving over to Ren’s helpless position, lightly giggling along the way. Crow hovered around his ear, letting her tone curl deep into him. “That stray kitten must’ve been very starving, don’t you think…? How it must’ve felt, doing such a small kindness in the same vain…”

Ren felt her warm breath on his ear, yet it didn’t provide the same response to what he was feeling, a sense of cold running down. It wasn’t just because he was paranoid all those times. Someone was watching him. Not a hallucination, but a demon ghosting him and his every move.

A small bead of sweat began dripping down his temples, and it caught Crow’s attention. Of all things Ren could’ve imagined her doing, the last one was feeling her soft, wet tongue lap it up, slowly and gently before chuckling to herself.

Fuck.

Fucking fuck.

Ren’s stomach growled, bringing him back to reality. The hot bowl in front of him called, yet he was hesitant to eat. Crow caught on, her grin widening sinisterly as she hovered over him, chopsticks in hand filled with noodles. She caressed his cheek again, brushing his hair away from his face, and placing her thumb on his chin, applying a small amount of pressure.

“Now...” Crow whispered intimately, “let me feed you, my dear.”

Every forceful bite of his would-be meal felt like lead being shoveled down bitterly into his throat. Ren couldn’t bear the idea of eating with a serial killer, yet here he was, being force-fed a meal courtesy of Crow. 

Somehow, despite fighting against it, his body would continue to betray him, forcing him to eat any time she demanded as such, and yet every little bit of panic washed away with each bite as well. A little force applied to the small of his chin, maybe even a forceful incision of the chopsticks to pry them open, Ren had to comply.

His bowl was finished, only ever eating out Crow’s one time. Once more with effort, Ren struggled in a futility as his restraints remained unbudged. After a brief moment, Crow returned, having now sunk the bowl into water. “Darling…our guests still need some tending to. Shall we?” She whispered into his ear again.

Wasting no time, Ren felt his chair move over to the space in the living room with Crow guiding it. His restraints ached at his muscles, and the more he struggled, the more they seemed to bind him. Before him now, parallel in his room, his eyes met with the three individuals. Crow came into frame, her demeanor turning into something Ren hadn’t seen before, one where it was serious, almost as if someone else stepped into her shoes.

“I’m sure this comes as no surprise to you, but everyone before you is going to die.”

Ren quivered in his place, trying so hard to break free. “What sick game are you playing with me now?”

She had no semblance of joy in her heart. Crow continued on, forcing the first individual forward with her leg - blunt and full of force.

“Three criminals. Three lives, each a clinical case to demonstrate how broken the system truly is. If you’ll permit me, Ren, allow me to introduce them to you.” She spoke, cadence in a way that was a stark departure from her usual tones. She stared blankly, sizing up the first victim to be unveiled.

Before him, the first mask was pulled off, revealing a middle-aged man, bruised eye, and a gaunt visage. To ensure his silence, he was gagged with a white cloth. He blinked what he could, drinking in the blinding lights before his attention came over to Ren. After a brief moment, he uttered something indistinct to him, catching Ren’s attention.

There was no mistaking it as his eyes widened. This man…he arrested him before. He was…

“Oh, surprised, are we?” Crow interrupted his train of thought. “The mugger who assaulted Shinya Oda…Satoru Yamaguchi. You remember this case, don’t you, Ren?”

“Let him go.” Ren said in kind, pushing himself out of the chair, still restrained.

Crow hovered over Satoru’s figure, grabbing him violently by the hair, raising his posture up. He groaned in pain, resisting as much as he could, yet her vice grip kept him in place. “I’m afraid not. You did everything right, saving a young boy from potential danger. And yet…Mr. Yamaguchi walks free. A paper-pushing judge merely…let him be. Inconclusive evidence, am I right?”

“It doesn’t matter, let him go.” Ren said sternly, repeating himself again. Crow could not help but laugh, forcibly pushing Satoru away as she moved to the next individual, pulling off the next sack off their head.

It revealed a man with an equally unsurprised and stern look, staring directly at Ren. His face was covered in a multitude of small little scars, with the biggest one running across both corners of his cheeks, and his eyes spoke of at least hundreds of stories. They stared, coldly, back at him. What was most unsettling however, is that he remained ungagged, yet obediently silent.

Crow’s eyes also burned their gaze into Ren. “This one is Takemura. Family name since erased from history. A hired hitman responsible for many unsolved killings. Ones, I may add, that the police have never solved. They say he served his time, that he is…rehabilitated, so to speak.”

She crouched down to meet Takemura, and his eyes flicked over apathetically to her, saying nothing. “What about the bodies that’ve never been found? The unconscionable mountain of blood he left behind?” Her eyes shot back to Ren, standing back up. “Of course not. He’s a free man, so says the system. Despite his freedom, he still acts.”

“God damn it, Crow!” Ren yelled out, panic in his voice. “What are you trying to prove with this?”

Takemura could only smirk at that, gaze hanging low.

Crow gave a soft hush, subtly pointing over to Ren, still trapped in his seat. Pulling off the last individual’s mask made Ren’s stomach twist in knots. Before him now was a woman, tears staining her face, covered in bruises. She was small, had a gentleness in her eyes - and was shaking. She cowered, screaming out of her gag as droplets of her tears dripped down. Her hair was artificially dyed a deep red, medium-length in nature.

“Yumiko Kagami. At first glance you may believe she is a woman of integrity. Of kindness.”

Yumiko’s tear soaked eyes pleaded to Ren - ‘do something’.  

But he was powerless, strapped to a chair. Ren could only follow Crow’s gaze lower unto Yumiko’s form. She wanted to stand up from being bound in that position, almost as if she wanted to reach out to Ren. 

Instead, Crow delivered a harsh kick from behind, forcing Yumiko back down. “Yet, for all the good she claims she has done, she is nothing more than a sexual predator. Her choice? Young children, male. Prison says she is reformed, that she is…’good’. But do you believe that, Ren? Are her urges simply…subdued?”

She cracked an eerily gentle smile, almost as if the Crow he knew returned back to him. “They exist because your so-called ‘justice’ allows them to.” 

Crow strided over to Ren’s side now, humming yet another song to herself. After a short moment of reprieve, she sat down parallel to Ren, hot bowl of udon in hand.

“So…my dear Renren,” Crow spoke in her usual soft tone. “I want you to take out the trash for me. It’s quite a simple thing, don’t you think?” She clamped her chopsticks, clicking them twice, before grabbing a soft-boiled egg with them, putting it in her mouth.

“I…won’t do it.” Ren said - voice palpably still in fear. “You’ll have to kill me.”

She chewed her egg thoroughly, now setting aside the bowl on the counter behind her, still smiling. “I can assure you they won’t make it past today, much less the end of the hallway. Their fates are sealed as is. In sickness or in health, remember?”

Her eyes shifted over, piercing Ren’s gaze, head tilted. She didn’t even let Ren reply, much less speak. Instead, she pulled out the knife used earlier, rubbed and dried clean. Smoothly, she glided over its cold steel, pressing on Ren’s cheek.

“I know what you’re trying to do, sweetheart - but it’s a fool’s gamble, arguing your life is valued against the condemned.”

Not long after, Ren felt the tension of his bindings soften. The sounds of rope were being cut and, suddenly, Ren was able to move. His hands slinked down as he finally regained control - yet he still wasn’t truly free. Crow took him by the arm, pulling him up. He stood still, feeling that one wrong move would finish him then and there.

Instead, she continued on with her gentleness. She caressed his cheek, rolling her attention over to open up his free, good hand. In the exchange, Ren felt the hilt of the knife fall into it before Crow forced the grip around. She hummed in satisfaction, a small smirk forming. She leaned into his ear, whispering as she often did, a sickening sweetness. “You must choose. If you don’t, then I will.”

A rising anger escalated out of Ren, his eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t know why he felt such a thing, but without hesitation, he saw an opportunity. He intended to shove his hand forward, plunging the edge into Crow’s body. 

What he expected to happen did not happen. He felt a strong grip prevent him from doing so as Crow lifted his hand back up, that same devilish smirk of hers never leaving her lips. She wrestled the knife away from him, applying just enough pressure to make Ren’s grip turn loose.

He forcibly dropped it, the knife falling directly back into her hands as she fiddled with it briefly, twirling it around until she held it, reversed-hilt style - and his anger turned into regret.

It’s over…
I’m dead.

Cold steel pressed up against Ren’s throat with such intimacy. Crow licked her lips, glowering at him with intent to open and depart with his life. Still, the same soulless eyes stared back at his very essence, making him feel utterly small in comparison. Any deeper incision of the knife, and she would’ve drawn blood - finished the job. Ren’s heartbeat pounded incessantly, for he was certain he’d be dead in a few moments. A quick slash, and it’d be over.

Instead, she backed off, giggling once again seductively, almost blushing at the effort.

“I don’t doubt your spirit or your commitment, sweetheart…” Her tone remained gentle, and uncomfortably warm - only for him. “I do love you for that, truly. You’re always so adorable…but it’s not time for dessert yet.”

The knife once again found its way wrapped around Ren’s hands. Only now, Crow pushed him away. He almost tumbled on the floor, tripping over the low table. Ren caught himself, still processing what just happened. His attention focused back at Crow, only to find that she sat back down and got to eating her udon noodles again.

Hesitantly, Ren stared at Takemura, who raised his head in defiance now. His grip loosened on the hilt.

Even in the face of certain death, he can’t fight back. When faced with trying to do the right thing, it only ever backfires. Crow blocked the only way out of his own house, making it a complete mockery of his life to know - he had no control over this. Effectively…

Ren Amamiya was trapped.

Ren spent some of the time he was allowed to loosen the gags off of Satoru and Yumiko, but not both at once. He focused first on Satoru, who, once he was ungagged, coughed and took a few sharp breaths in.

“Detective Amamiya, what the fuck is going on?” He asked, confused. “Why are you associated with The Black Mask?”

“I’m not.” Ren assured him, hesitant to release him from his bindings.

“Then free me,” Satoru ordered.

Ren, holding the knife in his hand, lowered it slightly. “I can’t do that.”

“And why the hell not?!” He shouted back.

It was now Takemura’s time to speak. He chuckled, lifting his physique up from his knees. “Because he is weak. He cannot do what must be done.”

“And that’s killing all of us?” Satoru shot back, only to get another panicked scream from Yumiko. She hobbled over on her knees, and Ren didn’t want to hear her right now.

Takemura remained stoic, only nodding solemnly. “I see this… Detective Amamiya. I sense fear in him.” He raised his head up to face Ren, smirking. “And yet he has no idea his morals fail him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ren replied back. “I’m trying to help you here.”

“Help?” Takemura laughed once again. “Oh, trust me. Your crazy girlfriend is right, I have killed before. I see it in you, I can even smell it on you. You’re no killer. You haven’t even suffered. Better yet, you haven’t even stopped me. Not really.”

Ren said nothing, only ignoring Takemura and trying to unbind Yuriko’s gag this time around. When it came loose, she groaned heavily and took a while to catch herself. “T-Thank you…Amamiya-kun…” she breathed out.

It felt strange, trying to help out criminals that Ren knew would’ve been behind bars. He callously gazed back at Satoru, who gritted his teeth and grunted. “C’mon dude, we ain’t got all day.”

“Tell me, Detective Amamiya. Do you not believe what The Black Mask tells you?” Takemura retorted. “A mugger, a murderer, and a pedophile is where you would like to draw your line?”

“Shut up,” Ren said bluntly. “I’m not listening to you.”

“Reformation is a joke. You simply believe what judges tell you.”

Ren turned his focus back to Crow, who was still eating her udon in silence. He approached her briefly, and she looked up without saying a word.

“What exactly did Takemura do to deserve his fate?” Ren asked, but Crow gave no response. She only smiled.

“Tell me what he did!” Ren ordered her, and still, she said nothing. It infuriated him, not knowing the full answers.

“As clueless as ever!” Takemura called out from a distance. “Perhaps I should help instead? I am quite positive The Black Mask knows who I am.”

Ren groaned in quiet rage, turning back to Takemura. “Talk.”

“Now you’ll listen? Amusing.” He said, leaning back to his kneeling position, savoring the moment. “Fine. Let’s see if this helps.”

A dreadful silence enveloped the room as Takemura hung it in suspense, his smirk remaining. Ren glared in anticipation, straight-faced.

“Eiichiro Takeda. Shinomiya Furuya. Genichiro Nakamura.”

From the depths of Ren’s mind, something clicked - each name a minor cut towards his memory. Those were names he felt were familiar, as if he’d seen them recently…but where? He didn’t even realize he stopped breathing.

Takemura must’ve sensed it then and there.

“You get it. You see it now. The results of a human trafficking ring conducted several weeks ago. Faces forgotten, names left behind. Yet, so slow to understand…” He trailed off. “You missed it, didn’t you?”

“No…” Ren said, his throat drying up. He remembered it was the investigation Makoto led when she was away and he was at the hospital. He only ever heard it in passing, about how a string of people disappeared off the face of Tokyo without so much as a trace, their belongings left behind in cold case after cold case. Only through Makoto’s intuition did they find someone - yet…it wasn’t Takemura. Surely…?

“You should’ve seen the looks on their faces when they knew their lives were over. The final face they’d ever see: mine.” His smirk widened in pride. “And you can never prove it was me. A scapegoat was all you found. Justice for all. Is that not what you tell as a fairytale, Detective? How perfect must it be to be so utterly blind?”

His own moniker became a mockery in of itself as Ren felt a flare of anger rise up in him. “You’re lying,” he choked out.

Satoru chimed in, a small panic encompassing his words. “‘Ey, Takemura, you sure you wanna mess with him while he’s got a knife?”

“And what of it? He wouldn’t know how to use it even if he tried. People like him hit others like us,” He looked both at Satoru and Yumiko, “and we always get back up.”

From the distance, the sound of chopsticks snapped loudly, yet nobody but Ren heard it. He alone registered it, but couldn’t afford to look back, being lost in his own mind temporarily.

Takemura’s eyes glossed over Ren, who was now hanging his head in shame. “Whereas people like us hit them…and they stay down. So fucking stupid, believing he’s any hero.”

“I don’t even know you!” Yumiko cut in, interrupting everyone. “Please, Detective Amamiya, you have to believe me!” She cried out. “I…I’m changed! They let me go, didn’t they? I-I’m sorry that those boys looked mature…it’s just…they were so helpless! Please!”

“You fuck little boys and you’re seriously trying to beg for your life right now?!” Satoru yelled back at Yumiko. “Gotta be kidding me with this shit!”

“It’s not my fault that I --”

All four of them didn’t even realize it, but Crow was right behind them. Something about her demeanor changed between their incessant, overlapping conversations, and her shadow enveloped all three of them. She stood, silently, as if the room grew colder when her gaze was upon them. It was if, somewhere between now and the brief past, they said something very wrong concerning Ren.

Even Ren could not comprehend the unnatural atmosphere. It was as if all life stopped in its tracks, frozen, terror consuming all, choking their last gasps. He only lifted his chin and looked to his left, and even that was enough to run a severely cold chill down his spine. If he could cower, he would’ve done so already. Ren’s hands trembled, and he tightened his grip on the knife to keep it steadied, hopelessly. It would not save him all the same.

Despite that, something told him that it wasn’t the end for him. His grip loosened once again as Crow stood in front of him, like an unholy shield - and one he did not ask for, yet received all the same.

In the eyes of all three criminals, what they saw was not a woman before them wearing an endless void of clothing. What they saw was the embodiment of something… inhuman. Her stare bored down upon all who gazed back, inevitably crushing all hope under her boots. It was vile, being suffocated by an unseen corruption within their pores. Being anywhere within Crow’s vicinity felt like drowning in darkness.

All the same, she had her sights on them, proof that not even death would be their final escape away from her. The very presence felt as if she were siphoning their own life energies to fuel her - and her eyes only felt as if they were glowing the color of an insatiable, eternal bloodlust, accompanied by that damned smile, one knowing full well that belief was meaningless to a non-believer.

With an unnatural, almost subtle motion, Crow’s head tilted, calculated and deliberate - the kind that would’ve shattered the brittle Earth everyone walked upon. 

“Tell me…do all mongrels howl so desperately before they’re put down…?” Her voice ran a cold blister all around the room, cutting sharply, the threat almost disguised as a question. Only the stifling whimper of Yumiko remained as the answer.

The air was breathable again, shortly afterwards. Crow settled down, her smile returning to something…saner. Having now turned around, she placed a gentle hand over his shoulder, pulling him in closely. “Ren…” she softly whispered, like honey in his ears. “You can stop being helpless. You have the power to change things, to save others. I am giving it to you, all you have to do…” She wrapped her hand over his once again, gripping the knife alongside him. “...is take it.”

“There's other ways.” Ren whispered back to her, "There's always another way..." He said, only for Crow to giggle softly as she often did.

“Ren…” Crow cooed, leaning closer into him. “Not everyone here can be saved. If it were possible…well, violence is necessary to end violence, you must know this by now, surely…?”

The situation was chaos, the only thing Crow could ever seem to bring. Ren’s hands remained trembling, the knife the only thing straight and true to its objectives. Crow’s presence departed, fluttering away into the opposite direction, just as quick as its dread overcame everyone else’s. As it all returned, Takemura forcibly clawed his way out of the corner he was put in, startling Satoru and Yumiko.

“Even now? Even after all this, you still fucking hesitate?”

Ren’s gaze shot back at Takemura. He hadn’t forgotten about him, his grip on the hilt tightening again. He felt a brief twitch in his eye.

“Are you for real right now?” Satoru whispered out, only to be headbutt - Takemura’s forehead crashing in, bone-to-bone, fractured. He stumbled backwards, head striking the wall, blood now pooling from his nose.

“The Black Mask is right!” Takemura shouted at the top of his lungs, his desperation palpable in this moment. “We don’t change! YOU can’t even change! You are a laughing joke, a walking contradiction! You say you want justice, you say you can rehabilitate us! But you can’t even fucking decide who deserves it - you fucking USELESS paradox, clinging onto some childish fantasy of heroism!”

His venom spewed horrifically towards Ren, face burning red as spittle flew. Ren in return felt that same heat rising towards him, hands now shaking with the same rage.

“You fucking coward! That’s what you are! Tell me, who are you saving, huh?! WHO ARE YOU SAVING?!”

A voice Ren had long since not heard from emerged, echoing back in his head. He was reminded of all the abuse thrown back to him, on the evening of his kidnapping. He did everything right - what did he deserve to get this attention? Why does this keep happening?

…Who is doing anything to stop this?

No one...I am saving no one with this…

At the brink of all things, Ren felt his body move - in retaliation, or out of protection of himself - as he rushed Takemura, knife in hand. Somewhere, back over there, he felt the reassuring smirk of Crow acknowledge him.

He had heard enough. The long edge plunged deeply into Takemura’s throat as he now struggled to eke out any breath, red erupting into Ren’s hands, yet his grip remained resolute. In his blind rage, Ren forcibly slashed the far end of his throat, opening up an explosive spray - yet the blade still remained, stuck, holding back an otherwise uncontrolled flow.

Yumiko screamed and Satoru, now regaining his footing, trembled on his knees. 

He didn’t know how long time passed, a deep stain of red pooled on the wooden finish of his apartment. Ren slowly pulled out the knife, clothes and hand stained with misery, and something cracked within him.

His eyes softened, now realizing what he’d just done. It terrified him, the mirror image of the burly man flashing back to his mind - the same look of emptiness in Takemura’s eyes matching that of his first kill. His knees buckled, causing him to tumble down. 

The air now felt suffocating, its weight ineffable. Ren…was entirely uncertain if his hands were growing cold and numb, or if it was the blood doing it. Once more, Ren felt a strong inclination that nothing was making sense - everything was splitting in half, an inescapable whine ringing in his ears. No, it did not get any easier the second time around, nor did he feel any sense of joy of having done it.

His eyes turned over to Yumiko, now hysterical from tears. “P-please…” She croaked out. “You don’t have to do this…that man is wrong,” Yumiko resumed, steadying herself, blinking harshly to let tears stop. “You can still save us…!”

Her tone was almost believable. Soft, gentle - just like Crow’s was, yet almost too sincere in comparison. Ren saw it that way at first too, but after Takemura…he was unsure. 

He glossed over her features - and he could see it, staring back at her, a look not out of horror, but one of a quiet desperation to get out of this mess. A nervous smile putting on a performative show.

“Don’t you remember what she said? I’m good, aren’t I…?” Yumiko whispered out. “I-I-I’m changed, I promise! They…they said I was…”

Something about it felt off from Ren’s perspective. His eyes narrowed as Yumiko continued on explaining. There was, deep down, a sense of goodness in her heart that he could sense, clouded underneath all the hideous muck that simply…could not be.

“I…I was trying to help them, just like you!” Yumiko exclaimed.

“Help…?” Ren uttered.

“T-They needed someone to understand and love them…! Yes, that’s right…they were lost c-children…”

Perhaps it was out of a lie or because Yumiko believed this to be the truth, Ren had an unsettling sense gnawing at the back of his head at these words. He only tightened his grip on the hilt further, and Yumiko knew it as well.

“I never…I never forced anything, Detective.” Her voice steadied, the stutter now gone. “They came to me of their own will. They were hurting - I just…made sure they were cared for.”

Ren took a step forward. Yumiko’s eyes responded with a notion of fear.

“They trusted me! The guards did too! In prison, I was a model helper!”

“What did you do with them, then?” Ren asked, feeling a raging calm trying to escape.

“I…!” Yumiko’s face turned pale as another set of tears began to form. “N-nothing bad, I-I swear…!”

If she were any good at anything else but lying, Ren would’ve at least let it slide. Yet what he saw was but a facade, someone buying into their own stock believing it to be genuine. It was almost painful in a way as Ren felt a pang echo in his chest.

“They told me they loved me, Detective Amamiya…they came to me, they loved me, they wanted me to help them more! Isn’t that what you do?” Yumiko promptly nodded her head. “Y-you help people because you care…just like me…!”

Twisted corruption. Ren felt the room around him grow ever so smaller, the air once again choking his own life out. He held onto the knife further, seeing the flash of panic in Yumiko’s soul. “I-I can change! PLEASE! ”

And Ren saw Yumiko’s life severed, as he quietly and quickly slashed, messily. It was enough - the spark of life within her was gone. Another pool of blood splattered out, mixing in with Takemura’s drained force.

Something urged him to stop, begging, deep down. But he didn’t listen, overcome with an over expansive white noise ringing infinitely in his ears. His heart raced, another pang of pain reaching up to him as he now focused on Satoru.

Strange…Ren thought to himself. It was quiet, all around him. He couldn’t even hear Satoru pleading and begging for his life, his blood trickling down his nose. All he could see in front of him in a foggy haze was the image of Shinya, traumatized and blankly staring, all the way to the courtroom case.

Ren failed him. Even when he did the right thing…he failed Shinya. What he saw in Satoru was someone who could’ve changed - could’ve done the right thing. Grow as a person, get better. In a just world, Satoru Yamaguchi would’ve been given a life sentence for harming youths, and continuing to do so.

But what about Shinya? Did he get a chance at life?

No. 

Then why…would I be giving someone else his…?

These failures are mine. I have to…make it right. Even if it means killing…I have to…

Before long, Ren felt a desperate hand cling to him, knife pressed deeply inside his throat. Satoru was gurgling, his eyes meeting Ren’s to plead for his life once more, knowing it’d be going regardless. He caught himself unable to breathe - shakily, off-balance - absolutely winded. 

Ren didn’t even aim properly, but it was enough, already in a vital spot. With an equally desperate push, Ren got him off and Satoru fell back, writhing in unbearable agony, reaching out to someone who was no longer there in his view.

Crow’s presence returned, crouching down to Ren’s level. “You’ve done enough, Renren…” she whispered, warm, yet ever so unsettling. “Let me keep our promise.” He could see a shade of her and the sound of her wrinkling leather boots step over, then mount Satoru’s flailing body, and in an instant, he too departed from this life.

Something else replaced the feeling of anguish in his heart. He struggled, unable to take in consequence. Was Takemura correct? Was he correct, even?

He hated the feeling of being trapped. Of being…powerless. Even with the ability to change things, Ren did not feel this was the right type of power he would’ve naturally come to. The dark truth of this life he’d been thrusted in was that…

He had to make the hardest decisions. To sift in this darkness, so nobody else had to. This was what Crow wanted him to learn, not everybody gets to seek penance for their sins, their trials could only be carried out in death. No gods, no masters, only him and a choice, one where he’d have to promise himself…he will find a way back.

The deafening silence fell upon the apartment as Crow stood back up, knife in hand. Ren, still on his knees, gradually rose up, yet faltered all the same. Nevertheless, he persisted. He tried to stand, but once again, his body kept betraying what he wanted.

“No, no, no, darling…you’ve done enough.” Crow said to him…in a whisper? Or perhaps in a normal volume? He wasn’t...certain. She seemed so far away as his breath, turning from uneven to a slowed steadiness, overtook him. 

He fell back on his knees - something Crow caught and helped him with. She took a firm grab onto him, whoever’s blood casually staining her previously spotless compression shirt.

“I…I can still…” Ren muttered out, trying once again. He struggled to maintain composure, his eyes closing on him when he was forcing them to remain open - and yet, the warmth of Crow’s touch and presence through her gloves compelled him otherwise.

“Shush,” Crow reaffirmed, softly and gently. “Rest, sweetheart. It’ll be all over soon...” She gave a calming nod with a soft smile. “Breathe. Be free.”

“No…” Ren moaned out, using his last bit of strength to grasp at the hems of Crow’s shirt - something she held back on by intercepting with her own hand. He blinked once, then twice. Then…he saw nothing.

Whatever he could gather through his half-conscious rest, Ren was unsure if he was imagining it, or if it was real.

Parts of his clothes felt colder, yet cleaner. A faint smell of bleach. Plastic wrapping crinkling about. Throughout all of that, a gentle, motherly lullaby, attuned to the rhythm of humming. Water rushed, then stopped, then rushed again. Then…the quiet.

The birds no longer sang for the morning gone by. All cars left for their commute. A nearby air conditioner whirred in its endless droning, giving ambience to an otherwise mundane life.

Ren hadn’t the faintest clue how long he was away from that reality at that moment. With a sudden jolt of panic, he arose from his bedroom futon, gasping deeply for air. He looked around, alert and ready to find nobody there to greet him. 

Curtains were pulled open, previously closed, revealing natural light flooding in his room. He settled back in shortly afterwards, letting himself…fall back down. Get grounded, listening to the silence.

That wasn’t a dream, was it?

Ren laid back down briefly, staring back at the ceiling. His body ached more than usual, his hands were clean…and the faint marks of his rope bindings were prevalent - stinging a minor and dull pain. In the air, he managed to catch the small scent of lavenders…not something he ever considered using in his house.

Real...it was real.

He sighed deeply, curling his legs up and covering his navel with his arms.

Glossing over his own features, he noticed that his clothes had indeed changed out into comfortable pajamas - a thin black long-sleeved shirt, and his usual olive green sweatpants. A thought gave him a shade of flushed red in his cheeks…and he checked.

He was still wearing underwear, thank fucking god.

Whatever was done was done. He could not undo a mistake to rectify other mistakes. He let his legs down, and stood up slowly - almost tumbling over for the third time before he caught himself. After getting his footing once again, Ren turned his attention to the glass of water from last night, picking it up and taking a moderately big gulp of it.

As he set down the glass, he noticed that the aluminum bat returned to where it once was, now adorned with something new. There was a black surgical mask now hanging lazily at the handle, propped strategically in such a way that it would’ve caught his attention one way or another.

Ren cautiously walked towards it, detaching it from its blunt companion. From the exterior side, it was a simple surgical mask, propped open with the nose flaps prepositioned. On the inside however…Ren found a set of lipstick markings, deep red in color. He wasn’t sure if it was blood, or something she wore and he didn’t even notice. Whatever compelled him to get a whiff of it, it gave off small traces of chemicals - definitely makeup.

Crow…what’re you up to?

Curiosity ran amuck at what it even meant. Was she taunting him by what he did in the past? Was it merely a calling card to signify she was around? Ren couldn’t waste time thinking about it.

Instead…he went outside of his bedroom, eyes now met with an unfamiliar sight rendered comfortable.

His apartment was clean. Not a single bloodstain to be found, no bodies left behind, all furniture rearranged the way it was and what he got used to, like a pristine photograph coming together on the day it was taken.

Unreality meeting his own reality.

He knelt down, almost prone, going so far as to lay his cheek down on the floor to see any discrepancies. Aside from the pleasant scent permeating the air, nothing was amiss about his abode - yet the more he looked, the more uncanny it felt. He went to the chair he was tied in, no signs of a struggle. He went over to the table set, not even a hint of a drop of red.

Immaculate in every way, yet insidious beneath the surface. 

The last place he checked was the kitchen, noting that his sink was clean and dry, his dishes were returned. His fridge, restocked. But…

One kitchen knife was missing. A memento, a souvenir. A reminder that…yes.

Ren Amamiya murdered three people today, not out of a moral failing, but because somebody had to.

And when things settled down, Ren stood back up, just in time for the doorbell to ring, alerting him of a new presence. Startled, his heart leapt out yet remained at the ready. Cautiously, he approached the door, and opened it.

“And here I thought you were gonna ignore me!” Chie said, grinning widely. “Did you get my message?”

Chie. Ren breathed a sigh of relief, never having felt a more comforting presence in his life after today’s escapades. He stood, awkwardly leaning against the door frame.

It was an attempt if nothing else, just to hide beneath his shame. “I uh…sorry. Overslept.”

Someday…everyone will know. Until I find her…I’m sorry.
No one must know the burden I carry.
It’s mine alone.

Chie sniffed the air rapidly, taking a step inside. “Did you…clean your house? It smells pretty nice.”

“Y-yeah. Thought I’d do something productive after…” he trailed off. “Where’s Makoto and Akihiko?”

“Probably super busy at the office,” Chie responded, taking a seat down in the same chair Ren was in not too long ago. “They said they’d probably get out later, and later is now so…” She shrugged. “Wanna just go to the park and get some fresh air?”

“...Sure.” Ren replied. “Let me just…get some clothes on.”

Chie only nodded, waving him off as Ren got back to his bedroom, shutting the door briefly. 

Once more, over by the mask, Ren felt compelled to investigate the mask. He lifted it back up, coming over to the sliding door outside his terrace. He extended his arm out, letting the mask shine under the sun.

It was…stupid. And definitely not something he’d be investigating right about now. A solid emptiness filled his heart, and he needed a bit of normal to escape. Ren returned back inside, sliding the door back once again. He set the mask aside, down in his futon now, and got dressed in something more appropriate.

As he got ready for the afternoon ahead, he stared uncomfortably long back at his room, pursing his lips. 

Knowing was half the battle of today, and the only thing for certain is that it’d be better if he closed the curtains for now. Let the light not dawn upon his room, let it…linger, where the rest of the world carried on. Somewhere he’d be ready to face it soon enough.

With that in mind, dark filled the room once more as Ren opened his door, exiting. As the curtains shook and settled, a tiny light breathed its way through, cutting past the void.

Chapter Text

“The abyss returns even the boldest gaze.” - The Ancestor

February 19th, 20XX
Evening
Futaba’s Birthday
Cafe Leblanc

Days passed and all returned to normal in life, or so it appeared. In the evening at Cafe Leblanc, many gathered around to celebrate Futaba’s 26th birthday. Muffled Jazz music played behind the closed doors, and just for tonight, the scent of coffee was not afloat inside, rather, it was a mixture of light vanilla and strawberries.

It was an unusually large turnout for someone who wanted to remain private for what it was worth. Some government-sanctioned employees, a bunch of science nerds, an elderly couple, even the town doctor was there alongside Makoto and Ren, for being loyal customers.

Ren, having temporarily escaped the celebrations, entered the bathroom to clean himself up. Pushing up his glasses, he rolled up his sleeves and let the water slowly turn warm. His eyes only glossed over his reflection in the mirror - only just.

When was the last time he ever got a good look at himself in a mirror? His tired, dulled out, graying eyes spoke all that needed to be said. With a splash of warm water, Ren washed parts of his face. If nothing else, to reinvigorate.

Rumors were already spreading around the precinct. It was already there the night Ren took off. Hushed whispers became backhanded gestures. It’s hard enough to deal with trauma alone, but to have the very people you’re supposed to trust in also reminding you it happened.

“You like psychos, Amamiya?” One police officer passed towards him as a joke. “Fuckin’ kinky, dude.”

Isolation is…painful. More than his own scars and battle. Detective Ren Amamiya got saved by the infamous Black Mask, a conundrum within itself. It became a civil strife from within. He couldn’t have killed others already, his arm was too broken and fucked up for that. But in another, his prints were on a beer bottle, as was the bat. 

“She blow you under that mask?” was another question. Nothing he could ever answer.

People’s lives were lost that night - that’s the main takeaway. What others were preoccupied was something else entirely, and as a direct result…there’s no other reason to suspect. Even if it meant Crow was working alone and implicated him, Ren was facing the fallout of a magnitude he couldn’t contend with. To speak up, or even address it, would mean defeating anybody’s side.

The only winning move is not to play.

Ren lightly exhaled as the water dripped down to his chin. A damp warmth made itself known to his palms shortly afterwards - not one out of the water. Ren investigated, rotating them around…nothing. He let them run over the water, washing with soap. Something about it was strange, he could no longer smell the scented finish. Regardless, he was cleaning.

And cleaning.

And cleaning…

Until his hands were red, already a bit pruned from the overwashing. A part of Ren’s breathing escalated before he quickly gave up after the 6th or 7th attempt. The white and red checkered towel next to him, otherwise in pristine condition. Was it a deeper shade of red than normal? No. Surely not. He investigated the cloth to find that it was devoid of anything of the sort.

The door behind him opened up without warning. Ren jumped out of instinct, turning around quickly. It was Futaba. She noticed him and shut the door, lightly groaning.

“Good fuckin’ hell,” She cursed quietly. “It’s too loud…”

Ren took his small grip off the sink and breathed out. “You can’t just scare me like that. At least knock.”

“Yeah, well,” She shrugged innocently, ”I did knock, for like, two seconds.”

“What’s everybody gonna say if they see us walk out together then?” Ren chuckled to himself.

“Are we children, Ren?” Futaba grinned, quietly hovering over the toilet seat.  “Nah. We’re charging social batteries together.” 

“...That’ll totally fly.” Ren whispered, shifting over to the door before leaning his back into it. He observed Futaba as she fetched her phone out of her pocket and began tapping buttons on it with one hand.

Even Futaba shouldn’t have to learn what he’d done, either. Not now, especially not at her birthday party. He felt like he was burdening others just being here. This…normalcy, while nice, felt rather hollow. Ren checked his hand again, making sure it wasn’t a hallucination, and it truly wasn’t. For now however, that ick stained on his skin was gone.

He glossed over Futaba again, tilting his head to the side. “You texting your mom again?” He asked.

Futaba casually gave a thumbs up, face buried in her phone. After several seconds, she briefly lifted her eyes off of the screen. Ren felt a stare pierce right through him as he rolled his sleeves back down, raising one eyebrow and rubbing the nape of his neck. “What?”

She beckoned to him with an index finger. He obliged, eyes awkwardly shifting around. Within moments, Futaba took a brief hold of him, dragging him into her atmosphere. When he saw what she was doing, Ren took note of her phone - selfie screen, aligned perfectly for two people. A bright light flashed before Futaba made a quick peace sign covering her mouth, and he blinked.

Futaba giggled to herself before tapping a few more buttons. “And…send.” She murmured, leaving Ren to be disoriented by the sudden flash.

“...Was that flash necessary?” Ren asked, blinking several times as a bright circle burnt his lens.

“Anything to get mom home! Said I got a boy over, she’d love to investigate.”

“What?!” Ren cried out, “Futaba, please!”

She laughed once more before lightly jabbing Ren on his good shoulder. “Relax dude, she knows you’re my key item. I told her we’re hiding in the bathroom for a bit.”

He sighed and rolled his eyes, taking his glasses off and cleaning it with his shirt. “I think I’m gonna go back to the party now.”

Before long, Ren shuffled around and began turning the doorknob outside. He was then hit with a warm presence pressed up against his back, hugging him from behind, both arms wrapped around. He turned his head back.

“Uh…Futaba?”

She let go of him afterwards. Ren turned around again. Futaba had a soft smile on her lips before awkwardly scratching her head. “I wanted to make you laugh. Y’know, ‘cause of…what happened. You’ve been a bit…distant. Even I’ve noticed. So,” She pointed at him. “As the special birthday girl for tonight, I demand you laugh!”

Ren furrowed his eyebrows temporarily and lowered his head, maintaining eye contact with her. He flashed a quick grin before doing as he was told - laughing a little. “You’re not very good at this. Can I go now?”

In typical fashion, Futaba slowly walked up to him - using whatever few steps she had, imitating a mock shout. She very, very lightly punched him thrice in the chest. This time though, Ren smiled and laughed some more.

“You’re all free now!” Futaba declared, mimicking a quote from some film Ren hadn’t seen. With that, he exited the bathroom.

February 19th, 20XX
Late Evening
Ren’s Apartment

After returning home on his own, cutting the party shorter than he anticipated, Ren shut the door behind him and quietly turned on the lights inside his apartment. Half-lidded not out of exhaustion, he deeply exhaled and took off his shoes and entered into the living room.

Downing a cold glass of water, Ren sat down comfortably and turned on the TV with a low volume for background noise. On the coffee table, several black pens were splayed out there alongside the lip-stained surgical mask, which had been resting on top of his journal. He set aside the mask on his lap, pulling his journal closer and grabbing a random pen.

The scribbles were a mess, and yet it was the only thing of comfort that could silence what he was feeling. Ever since that fateful encounter almost a week ago, Ren became wildly enamored about Crow’s intentions.

Sweetheart dear husband w/ cat mention, am I a pet? “Adorable” / reconnected my arm (Still hurts!) / “Renren” two knives? blade allegory? / “You’re mine now” Why call paramedics on me? Lipstained Mask = kiss back??? / feeding me “are you unwell”

“I’ll kill with you” or “we’ll kill together” vow of marriage bound in blood <- why think this?

“Consummate marriage” - killing together? Licked sweat (!!!)

works alone - picks me / stalked for a month why why why - Obsession? no approach <- why watch only?

Kidnapping - could’ve died  almost stabbing her = could’ve died   knowingly stalked - could’ve died but not dead / “commitment” / kills w/o feeling and picks me?

put baseball bat in hand for incriminating evidence? Didn’t take it again. reminder?

Murders symbolic, crims getting what they deserve -> Takemura unseen and Crow did not answer - taking down trafficking ring? <- Criminals only. Why? house is clean but why clean my house?? motive is lost - actual W T F

Emichika Ishida (Emi-chan) <-> Juzo Nagano (BF) / Satoshi Midoriya (Blonde) + Jin Suzuki (Bald) <- Attackers

Satoru Yamaguchi / Yumiko Kagami <- Why?

Takemura - Eiichiro Takeda /  Shinomiya Furuya / Genichiro Nakamura <- Trafficking Ring, why Takemura?

To the average person, these were scribbles of a madman. For Ren, however, these were parts of a puzzle. He could not fathom what Crow wanted out of him, outside of the truly insane considerations. As he skimmed his page of notes, he rubbed his chin.

“Why me?” He spoke to himself quietly. “What do you want with me?”

As much as he wanted to entertain thoughts of an insane variety, Ren set his journal down. He stared back at the lip-stained mask. He held it out, letting it dangle on his fingers.

Out of temptation, he wanted to put on the mask and -- perish the thought. Now was not the time to consider extremities.

Perhaps whatever the concussion did made him feel crazier than he cared to admit. That too could be an answer. Ren sighed and shut his eyes briefly. 

His focus turned over to the television. He couldn’t help but turn over to a news channel, once again playing an around-the-clock update on the Black Mask killings. To the general public though, nobody knew it was a woman. They were behind on information, and for good reason - don’t cause any panic. In truth, nobody would anticipate a woman to be a serial killer or a mass murderer. The hysteria would be off the actual chains.

He put his journal down, letting one of the many pens roll into his chair.

This should be obvious…am I overthinking it?

Reading his scribbles didn’t prove any benefit at this time. He was tired, mentally and physically. It’d be better to think about it for another day, likely his day off. With one sigh, Ren flicked his TV remote’s off button and stood up. Work was tomorrow, there’d be plenty of time to reconsider facts with a blackboard and his journal there.

With his usual rituals done for the evening - shower, a quiet walk around the block - if nothing more than to search for that black cat - he flopped onto his bed, phone still in hand.

Not tired enough to drift off naturally. Still ample energy to surf the web. He swung his arm around the back of his neck and scrolled with one hand. Out of a personal curiosity, he typed in that woman’s name - Emichika Ishida - out into search networks.

All he found was a social media page. Her boyfriend was there, obviously, and so were the other two guys who were there at Ren’s kidnapping. That much he already knew that they were connected.

Whether out of luck or perhaps a desire to know - to start lurking after so many dead ghosts in this barren wasteland of inconceivability, Ren discovered something of interest.

He saw Satoru out there in one of their many izakaya visits. Or, rather, he saw what felt like his outline. He wasn't sure if it truly was Satoru, or someone who looked strikingly similar.

Could it potentially be?

Hardly. Maybe not. But…if there was even an off-chance that it’d be something to tug upon, it’s a thread worth chasing.

It put an idea in his head. One he’d have to execute tomorrow.

February 21st, 20XX
Evening
SIU Building Offices

Akihiko crossed his arms as he put his feet up onto his desk. “Lotta names you’re requesting from our files, Detective Amamiya.” He said. “Might I ask why?”

“Furthering some threads,” was Ren’s answer. Yet all the same, it was a personal curiosity instead of a precinct-wide one.

Akihiko hummed and rubbed his chin. “Not sure what strings you’ll be pulling from this all considering some of these are, for a lack of better phrasing, your kidnappers…but I trust you, Ren.” He checked out of his window, looking directly at officers in the background moving to and fro the office spaces. “Gonna take a while. I’ll let you know when I can.”

Ren nodded, and exited the office space. Shortly thereafter, he approached Makoto’s office.

“You wanna take the train home tonight?” Makoto asked.

Ren nodded again. “This is more of a professional courtesy thing. Good to get out in the field and do solo operations for a bit.”

He went ahead and pushed himself into Makoto’s arms, immediately hugging her. “I won’t do anything stupid.”

She took a moment to recompose before her eyes slid over to his form. “Staying up late and overworking yourself is stupid, Ren-kun. Just…be careful, okay?” She pulled away and lightly smiled. “At least this isn’t sudden. Plenty of time to change your mind.”

He lightly smiled back. “We’ll see. For now, I’ll need the cruiser.”

“This late in the evening?” Makoto asked. “I’m not gonna be stranded here with you, right?”

Before he could answer, she crept close into him, whispering in his ear. “Not drinking without me either, right?”

Ren chuckled and shook his head. “Wouldn’t dream of it, and it won’t be long.”

Obtaining information for Emichika proved to be difficult considering the recent…’civil war’ going on at the office. Many people refused to start helping Detective Amamiya for anything, lest they get implicated in a murder or otherwise unwittingly assisting an accomplice with something.

Emi-chan was dead. It’s not that simple. The fact there was a storm brewing at the safety of both lanes of his life - professional and private - didn’t make it any easier. On the one hand, there was a subdivision of officers who believed Ren was innocent because the rumors were outrageous, it seemed too planted, every bit of evidence they ‘had’ of him was a little too clean to jump as an answer.

On the other side however, it was simply because the evidence was contradictory that made Ren an actual suspect. Nobody - not even his team - would interrogate him on it. For once in someone’s life, ‘anything you say can and will be used against you’ held up more than any right Ren was given.

Ren exited out of the SIU buildings. Getting into the police cruiser, his first point of contact was around Shinjuku District, one of Emi-chan’s known haunts. As he made his way over and parked accordingly, Ren got his pen and notepad sorted, putting them into his jacket and proceeded to blend into the crowd at the Golden-Gai.

As he propped open his phone screen and navigated to his cameras, Ren took one glance over at where Emi-chan and Juzo took their photo. He had never been in any other bar aside from Crossroads. After passing through some torii gates, he followed a quiet crowd of tourists getting their fill of the nightlife. If any dealings  or potential information slip-ups were to occur, it’d be here.

In its atmosphere, the narrow and intoxicating alleyways of Shinjuku came alive when it was prime time for drinking and partying. On a Friday night no less, plenty of affiliated members of organizations and/or loose-lipped folks would be hovering around. Passing through, he noted stickers, graffiti, and a general sense of camaraderie amongst the folks around.

Ren stepped into one small building, only ever poking his head inside to investigate the walls. None of it looked like where those two lovebirds were at.

He spotted some officers patrolling the area - and so did they, at spotting him. Instead of approaching him, they instead pretended they were swerving elsewhere. Of course, Ren knew why, he didn’t let it get to him.

Unfortunately it wasn’t the only group of cops around. Any others he’d approach, they walked past him, couldn’t answer, or tried to play around with him. “Is it true you and The Black Mask had a fling?”

Finding a needle in a haystack would’ve provided healthier results with how long Ren spent around here. Shit was ridiculous, not even any member of the law was willing to help him conduct a quiet investigation. At a few points, his head almost met the bare end of a bottle from how drunk individuals were, not watching their drinks nor their backs.

He scribbled on his notepad, jotting down bits of information - any leads, any suspicious words even from the English-speaking side of things, anything to get a grasp of his viewpoints.

“Heard some oldheads from Pabbomb are working on getting the old crew back for a new game.”

“Sany’s thinking about opening a new streaming service?”

“Word on the street is our government’s workin’ on some new legislature!”

“That new VAGUE model’s totally a whore, right? I heard when she was back in high school she…”

None of it was particularly useful, only ever gossip - useless ones at that.

Over the course of what felt like hours, Ren held his back against the walls of the Golden Gai. Perhaps tonight was a fruitless endeavor?

“I’m just sayin’, that would-be politician’s spendin’ so much time with young girls. Like, really young!” Someone in the distance said. Ren perked up as he glossed over to its general direction. He saw several older men walking, half-drunk, from one bar to another. Presumably, they’d been kicked out for having too much fun. “Y’think he likes ‘em young?”

“Bro’s got mistresses, why deal with kiddie shit? Fat fuckin’ pair of tits and he don’t want any? Pshh…”

A politician?

Ren wrote it down on his notes, nevertheless. Quietly around the corner, as the older men turned, he followed them like a shadow. Wherever they were going, he was behind not too far away.

Of course Tokyo’s politicians were corrupt. A handful of them rose to prominence in suspicious circumstances. One of the most popular theories was that a shadow government was operating from behind the curtain. Half of them had been lined with money in their pockets. It was practically an open secret that nobody would ever say aloud - did it justify the means to keep Japan as a society, safe - at its minimum, did the status quo remain the same? If so, it was fine.

“Detective Amamiya!” An unfamiliar and deep voice rang out, alerting everyone within the vicinity of Ren’s presence. The older men turned around, noticing him.

“This fuckin’ boy scout’s been followin’ us?! C’mon, let’s go.”

Ren turned his attention over to the source of his name being called. A pair of unknown police officers were approaching him, both in uniform. One wore the signature dark blue uniform, and the other had his tie loosened, hat in hand. “What’re you doing?” the one in dark blue asked.

“I was just leaving,” Ren replied, putting his notes away. “What, can a detective not drink in peace?”

As they got close to him, the hatless officer got real close and began sniffing him. “Don’t smell like alcohol was drunk to me. What were you doing with those men?”

“Can I not walk the same alleyway trying to get out?” Ren raised his hands up in defense. “And besides, I drink light. If anything, you scared them.”

The two looked at each other, then at the group of individuals Ren was investigating. Curiously, they smirked before turning back to Ren. “Right. Guilty as charged. Need a ride back to the station?” asked the hatless officer.

He shook his head. “Got Detective Niijima’s car with me. I got here when bars opened, so…” Ren gestured to the opening out of the alleyways. “Can I leave?”

He was allowed to. Albeit, for all Ren knew, they could’ve been hidden informants and he crawled up the wrong turf with those cops. Either way, he couldn’t trust his feelings with them. Getting his cover blown, of all things, when he was close to opening up a new lead…he could almost punch the dashboard of the cruiser if he wasn’t already in an unsafe position. 

Without a hitch afterwards, Ren departed from Shinjuku. Whether this lead was a dead end or completely useless, it was worth something. By the time he returned to the office, Makoto was about ready to leave, and Akihiko readied the files he had requested earlier in the evening.

With several manila folders in his possession, Ren returned to his office, having opened them up sans photos of their dead corpses. He skimmed over certain bits of information - height, weight, gender, prison time. From his kidnapping perpetrators to Makoto’s own case on missing peoples, he spared nobody for his scrutiny. With his computer up and running, Ren ran case files for anything that seemed innocuous - occupation, what they were busted for, last area seen prior to death.

He set aside his jacket around the backseat of his office chair, rolling up his sleeves again.

Emichika Ishida - last seen at Shinjuku District alongside Juzo Nagano post-bust

Satoshi Midoriya - departing from Ichigaya Station before going to Yongen-Jaya

Jin Suzuki - on a street in Nishishinbashi near a cafe
Satoru Yamaguchi - last seen in around Ueno Park before the mugging

Yumiko Kagami - resides near Koto City limits near Eitai Bridge

Eiichiro Takeda - disappeared before reaching his destination at Ginza Line

Shinomiya Furuya - sightseeing at Tokyo Tower, never left the building

Genichiro Nakamura - meant to board Kamiyacho Station to reach Kawaguchi in Saitama prefecture, never boarded the train

Ren planted pins where their general vicinity was on his board, having flipped it over for a map of Tokyo in lieu of the Black Mask killings and their corpses. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary from this standpoint, just the greater Tokyo area. Even still, it remained completely devoid of any meaning.

When he skimmed over Juzo’s file, he noted something awful, yet not surprising. He’d been released from prison because Makoto couldn’t follow procedure. They couldn’t pin the drug bust on him because it wasn’t done by the book - because of course this happened, and Ren knew. He sighed deeply and shook his head disappointingly.

Another criminal out in the streets. Another piece of shit I’m gonna have to deal with once again.

He resigned himself to that concept, day in and day out. That’ll be Ren's future problem, not his present one.

Unspooling some red-colored threading, Ren tied them around the pins, ensuring they didn’t slip off the map as he was doing so. Before he could string together the first two to form a linear line, Ren heard shuffles of footsteps outside of his office in a hushed chatter.

“...without it, informants…scared shitless. They’re looking at us…next. And for what…?”

“I swear…Black Mask woman’s got a thing for him? Fuckin’…”

“I dunno man…his office is right here! I bet he’s…somewhere…”

He could only side-eye his door and quietly exhale in disappointment. Ren balled his fists together, ignoring them.

Focus. Enough distractions. They aren’t going to help me, I get it.

With more threads intertwining the map, they almost formed a star-like shape missing the top V shape. Suspiciously, they all coincided with Toshima ward not being grounds for any missing persons, corpses showing up, or anything of the sort. Ren put his index and thumb together on his chin, using his other hand to hold onto his elbow. Something about it had a story awaiting its hidden truths to be told.

What did Ikebukuro represent…? Entertainment center. Otaku culture if Akihabara were more female-oriented. One of the busiest malls in Tokyo, Sunshine City. Quiet village at one point in Japan’s history.

There had to be more to it, like…another side to the story.

Ren jerked his head to the side, taking note of the pins. He unspooled the threads. Rearranged them in certain other shapes. Intertwined locations one to eight in every way. What every thread pointed towards was near the Imperial Palace, albeit that was a given. The Palace grounds were effectively located at the center of Tokyo, after all. Quite literally, its beating heart.

He thought back to his notepad from earlier. A corrupt politician, signs pointing towards the heart of Japanese politics… someone was involved. And yet…

Bullshit. Am I at a dead end? Am I just tired? Ren thought to himself. He traced the red strings around, lightly plucking one as it bounced haplessly. Ren took his notepad and a pen, scribbling out his own notes.

Too insane. No way a politician could orchestrate this undetected. That’s coincidence and a stretch - more than a stretch, complete and utter derangement.

Outside, a bright flash of light made itself known. Several seconds later, the sound of thunder clapped, almost shaking the office Ren was in.

What if the pattern was no pattern at all? It makes no logical sense, these are locations people go to on a day-to-day basis, people could disappear any time, any place. But what if it isn’t? What then?

He counted the pins again, holding onto the blackboard. The hand holding onto the board brushed with the back half of where the Black Mask killings were, with one pin popping out and falling on the ground.

Ren cursed to himself as he picked up the pin and flipped over the blackboard again. Now with the pin in hand, he retraced where it was last left off, scanning the map…

Until he realized something.

After inserting the pin back on the map, Ren took a step back. Cocking his head to one side once more, he noticed…

No. No no no, that’s fucking impossible. There’s no way this lines up, right?

Ren hurriedly snatched his phone from his pocket. He snapped a photo of the Black Mask’s map - something that’s not supposed to occur under normal circumstances, privacy and whatnot - and then flipped back to his own personal map.

His eyes flicked back and forth to his photo and the map he drew out. The spacing was right, yet the orientation…the orientation was off.

Ren turned around and sat back down on his office chair. He lingered on the moment, locking his phone’s orientation over and checking back on the angles.

He investigated his journal again, flipping back to his incessantly nonsensical scribblings. Thinking back on Crow’s motivations, he felt crazy. Lost in a headspace that made him feel like a madman.

If domesticity is what Crow sought for him, why was it laced in toxicity? Kill together…

If Crow’s method of violence was a sign of love, Ren felt completely delusional. Did she love him? Was that it? Was it worth all the pet names, terms of endearment, and how deeply horrifying her methodology was?

Yet the more he thought about it, the more he retraced his memories back to their first encounter. He kissed her, one catalyst igniting this unholy matrimony.

But…nothing made sense to him at that particular moment. To date he still didn’t think it through. He felt a soft regret about kissing Crow, even if it saved him his life. His mind jumped back to another thought - the other side.

Everything he’d been doing had the wrong result. Killing proved to give him the results he desired. If he used that train of thought, applied it elsewhere - Crow didn’t kill him because she saw no reason to. Crow kept him alive in spite of the stalking, the attempt at playing the hero. She left behind a hidden message sent across time by rescuing him, cleaning his house to appear as if nothing happened…a complete mystery being the truth.

Right is wrong, wrong is right, life and death were two sides of the same coin inverted. His beliefs were fake, hers were real. Unreality is reality. His made-on-the-spot plan worked when it shouldn’t have.

The other side. An inversion.

Ren’s eyes shifted off the journal back to the map. Carefully, he stood back up and tried aligning his best to where he last was. He snapped another photo of it. A fear in his mind lingered, prayed, it wasn’t what he thought it was. A bead of sweat dripped down Ren’s eyebrows as he took the photo - several times, even, to ensure consistency of angles and orientations. When he got the right one, he deleted the rest that didn’t matter.

Out of sheer insanity, he edited the photo on his phone. Reoriented it in such a way that it was now upside down…and then compared it to Crow’s serial killing corpses and their crime scenes.

His eyes widened in the sheer horror of what he saw. It was too intentional - an exact fear he did not want to learn.

The map pins were identical, or almost identically placed. Except, there were 9 pins on Crow’s map, and the missing one…was in Ikebukuro’s vicinity. A pin that remained unseen, now revealing itself. It pointed once more at the same sight he saw - the Imperial Palace. However…

Ren quickly tapped the location of the area within his maps. He quickly took a screenshot of the city limits, made it more transparent, and flipped it in orientation akin to his map. He interlaced it to where the Palace was.

Its city limits touched upon the National Diet Building. The home of all politicians in a gathered, orderly manner. Two houses meant to dictate the day-to-day lives of all Japanese citizens. He threw his phone on the desk now, shaking his head in exasperation. He closed his eyes again, now realizing that there was a gentle pattering of rain hitting his windows. Even now, in the midst of this chaos, life gave him a small reprieve.

Steadying himself, Ren let out a soft groan and opened his eyes back up. He took one extra look at the map, reorienting it back.

Two people were missing near the same vicinity. Was this also another clue nudging him further, knowing it was a piece of the puzzle?

He must’ve been crazy. Crazier than Crow, in fact. There’s no feasible way for anybody to consider that her methods had sound logic to it, not without knowing what Ren knew. But what if this was the answer then? He only knew opposites when it came to her.

A passing thought crept up on him. Was this, too, planned? There was nobody who could’ve done this on purpose. But what if, truly? What if she planned it, just as she planned to keep him alive? What if these were messages planned months ahead, what if he was chosen for a reason? What if, what if, what if?

Like mental corrosion, Ren couldn’t comprehend anything when he realized it all unfold. He rubbed his temples together and closed his eyes. Crow was not this meticulous by nature - yet the pressing question of ‘what if’ passed by. Could she be?

Every bit of evidence pointed him to the same conclusion. It was he, through his hazy memory, that deduced the Black Mask rescued him even when he hadn’t full details on it. Then…

Was it a corrupt politician? If so, who, even?

There are 713 seats available in an assembly. One in seven-hundred and thirteen of these is a target. Was it Crow’s target? He couldn’t know. What if it was more than one? What if it was a subsection, perhaps a division? What then?

There was no precedent for it. He took a look back at his notepad - the scribbled idea of a politician now coming back to light. His insanity made manifest, rendered into real life. His own knowledge, intuitions, cursing him back for being correct.

Even that had leaps and bounds of illogical necessities Ren couldn’t fill on his own. When it was all said and done, Ren fell back into his seat.

Even if this was all sound, the one thing he was failing to grasp - because it was too insane, even with his conclusions, was that a serial killer had fallen in love with him seriously. All he did was provide her a lie - a very big lie - and she ran with it.

Detective Ren Amamiya. Pseudo-husband to infamous serial killer, The Black Mask. Food for a hungry murder of crows. 

He slowly slumped into his hands, now folded together to support his head, vision now half in light and in dark. The same question reverberated in his head. ‘Who are you?’

Who exactly are you, Crow?

…What if Ren kissed her again at some point? Or…what if…

He hastily raised his head up from his hands and rapidly brushed away the thought. He was truly exhausted, this level of thinking would get him killed before Crow even had a chance to.

A new pressing matter unfolded. Who exactly was the politician being targeted? Ren got to work immediately, checking out files on his computer. He backtracked information that he could access via informant word of mouth, the only thing on the street he could trust right now.

He traced, and kept tracing. Hands sliding across the keyboard like a madman, emboldened to seek deeper, harsher answers.

Underground dealings. Links to human trafficking. Potential frame jobs. Hidden files leading to private orgies behind closed doors.

His hands stopped at several articles - “Arranged marriage of powerful CEO’s daughter and politician’s son”, “Diet politician suspected with scandal of embezzling funds from party”, “Speaker Kuromoto comes forward with newfound information pertaining to human trafficking scandal”...

Click.

He skimmed. He found names. Only two.

Kunikazu Okumura, and Toranosuke Yoshida.

His phone rang shortly afterwards, disrupting his investigations further. Ren startled himself, jumping out of his seat. He checked who was calling him. It was Naoto. He accepted, and put it on speaker.

“Detective Shirogane?” Ren answered.

“Detective Amamiya,” Naoto said, her end of the call slightly drowned out by other indistinct noises. “Excuse me for a moment.” The noise dissipated shortly afterwards following light footsteps.

“Sorry,” she cleared her throat. “Detective Dojima’s daughter and Yosuke have been non-stop singing the Junes theme for the past fifteen minutes.”

Ren hummed. “I take it Inaba’s a fun time then.”

“Well, if you’re ever in town, it’s nice. We’ve got great vegetables courtesy of Dojima’s garden,” she chuckled to herself before sighing deeply. “That’s not why I’m calling you, however.”

“I figured.” Ren commented.

She sighed and gave a slight pause. “It has been very busy as I am sure you’re aware. I heard…you got attacked. How’re you holding up?”

Ren, too, gave pause to it as he stared at the news articles, staring directly at Yoshida’s face. ‘Human trafficking’ hovered back to him as he looked away, shifting his chair around.

That can be for later, Ren quietly thought to himself.

“I guess, fine…just…lost.”

“May I perhaps ask if you’re taking it well?”

“As well as anybody could.” Ren responded, sounding almost flat in tone. “Some days I feel like I’m not of any help.”

“Ren,” Naoto spoke softly into the receiver. “The smallest of ripples always moves outward. You understand this better than anyone. Don’t beat yourself up for whatever failure you’ve perceived this as. Trust in the people around you - Chie, Akihiko, Makoto…I put you with them for a reason.”

Ren bit his lower lip. 

“You don’t need me to tell you that either,” Naoto added.

Another thunderclap occurred, this time much louder, faster, and the rain intensified ever so slightly.

“Is it raining?” Naoto asked.

“Yeah,” Ren answered, before changing the subject as he rubbed his chin. “Can I ask you something weird?”

“You absolutely may. About anything, actually.” Naoto responded swiftly.

He exhaled and flipped back his chair, then stood up, pacing around the room slowly. “I’m going to create a hypothetical situation for you to think about.”

Naoto fell silent again. The sound of a door closed at Naoto’s end. “Go on.”

Another pregnant silence. “Say you’re catching a serial killer,” Ren eventually said. “It doesn’t feel random, their killings. It’s like a story being told in its own morbid way.”

“Is this pertaining to the Black Mask case, detective?”

“No, it’s hypothetical. Just bear with me, okay?”

“Alright.”

He took a moment to compose his thoughts. “They’re simulating…domesticity. Terms of endearment. A normal life.They’re using stuff like…dear, darling, sweetheart. Performative action…it makes me ask, is it all for show?”

Naoto hummed quietly to herself as she pondered. “What it does tell me is that they’re not asking to be seen the way you’re seeing them.” She smacked her lips. “Atrocious as that may be, every story has a truth buried under it. Similar to the case in Inaba all those years ago…”

“I remember that,” Ren commented.

“Then you must know that every killer thinks differently. What else does your intuition say?”

Ren glossed over the blackboard again. “This might sound crazy…”

“All hypotheticals sound crazy, until they’re not.” Naoto said, pondering briefly. “Well,” she continued, “if it were me that they’re serenading to, wouldn’t you partake in the belief that they’re trying to grab my affections?”

“All these pet names amidst kills reflective of their crimes…Naoto, is it really all just for show?”

Another moment of stillness. Naoto continued once again. “Ask yourself this, amidst the insanity: Would you not want to believe a part of them wants to be loved in a way that makes them feel seen?”

“Even if it’s not reciprocated?” Ren asked, almost pressingly.

“They would not be presenting themselves in this way if there wasn’t a strong case for it, detective. Whatever this killer was given - be it by you, or the law, or whoever it is in this hypothetical, you’ve unintentionally given them something to cling onto.”

A brief sound of something being drunk was heard on Naoto’s end. “Every lie is built on a hope it turns out to be true. Am I wrong?”

Ren nervously swallowed. He let his phone hover in his hand, once more looking at the board and back to his notepad. His eyes softened up as he pursed his lips temporarily. “Absolutely not.” He eventually confirmed. “Thank you.”

“Will that be all then, Ren?” Naoto asked, returning back to a sense of normal, casual conversation.

“Yeah. It’s actually helped a lot.”

“Fantastic,” Naoto chuckled. “I do hope you’re recovering well. I don’t know when I’ll be returning to Tokyo, but it’s definitely not any time soon. I do apologize for not being of much use either --”

“No,” Ren interrupted her. “You wanted us to be tested. You have first-hand experience dealing with people like this, so…”

“An excellent deduction as always,” Naoto complimented. “Well, I won’t keep you from your work - that is, assuming you’re still working.”

“I was just about to leave. You happened when I was picking up my phone.” Ren said.

“Good. You mustn’t overwork yourself. Take it from someone who did the same thing: It’s not worth it.”

“Alright, alright…” Ren sighed, lightly grinning. “Makoto didn’t put you up for that, did she?”

Naoto could only give a soft laugh before hanging up. Silently, as his phone dimmed back, he read the time: Closing in on midnight. If he hurried, he could catch the last train going back to his apartment.

Ren pocketed his phone and turned back to his desk, sitting back down. Once more, Yoshida’s face stared back at him alongside the news article. He had to remind himself why he was investigating this. He scrolled through the article.

“Diet politician Toranosuke Yoshida was caught in a closed-door conference with a political donor, who was later found indicted for their role in a recently uncovered human trafficking ring. According to the leaker - who has been confirmed dead, Yoshida remained complicit to the coming and goings. We could not reach Mr. Yoshida to request a comment. The fate of the donor has since been dismissed due to a lack of evidence.”

He played a video, seemingly irrelevant of the case at hand attached to the article, listening in on one of Yoshida’s speeches.

“A world where it is acceptable to trample on the rights of others for your own benefit…A world where the young exist only to be exploited…is a world that must be changed!”

Was he wrong about Crow? Ren took some time to reconsider it. This goes against her initial motives - a killer of criminals. She did say she had no true qualms about whom she murders. Did this apply to No-Good Tora, then?

Yet…that’s going too far.

Was she targeting Yoshida because he’s a man convicted of crimes he may or may not have committed? Was Takemura secretly working for a man that has a clean image - on the off-chance he hides his true intentions well?

It doesn’t line up. Perhaps Okumura then?

Can’t be. Okumura’s not even a politician yet. He was still the CEO of Okumura Foods. Sure, his daughter was married off to a powerful political ally, but…

He didn’t have time to think about it. The plausibility of it being someone such as those two…would come another day. For now, Ren was one to keep promises. Makoto would be upset at him if he didn’t.

With a few swift keyboard commands, Ren locked his computer up for the night. He grabbed his jacket, put it on, and departed from the office.

Outside, the rain awaited him alongside the scent of petrichor, its earthly invitation reminding him of better times. Umbrella in hand, Ren made his way to the train station, and embarked on his way home.

As the last train made its way towards the direction of his apartment, Ren sat down onboard one of the cab cars by himself. Nobody was taking this route for tonight, just him and the silence. He stared outside of the train, notion that the rain was intensifying, as was the weather app confirming his suspicions that they’d be in for near torrential levels of it tonight.

Once the clock struck into the late hours and early mornings of the next day, Ren departed from the train, exiting out of the station. Even here, farther away from the office, the scent of petrichor lingered in the air.

However…it wasn’t the only scent within the air. He lightly smelled smoke. He did not pay too much attention to it, only wanting to go home.

As Ren marched onwards, he saw several people running away from the direction of his home, all with umbrellas accompanying them.

“Fire! There’s a fire!” One man screamed, running past him. It caused him to raise an eyebrow.

Fire? Here?

Ren turned back around. He ran towards the direction of it all. The smell of smoke grew in his nostrils. Over in the distance, he saw bits of embers and soot flowing out of the block.

“Fuck! Fuck!” Another civilian cursed, taking the time to slow down. “What’re we gonna do?! There’s nothing left!”

“We can still go back, they’ve --” A woman beside him tried to speak, only to get cut off.

“Are you insane?! Did you see what they were holding?! We’re lucky to even walk away!”

The situation was dire. By the time he made it back to his apartment, most of the people running away from him, he knew by proxy of them being neighbors. They never talked, only ever met each other on the way out or in. 

His heart pounded, a sense of adrenaline rushing over him. Ren took a small breather, still winded from his injuries, before continuing on.

More rushed away from the fire now, as the air became harder to breathe. Ren’s eyes stung from how densely packed the air was - an unnatural soup of ember, ash, smoke, and steam curling above in a thick, dark cloud.

He turned the corner until he saw his complex, its gleaming rage unquenched by the rain.

The source of the fire directly came from it. Not just anybody else’s small apartments - his own. He could hear the muffled screams of those trapped inside still, likely those who were caught off-guard and unaware, unable to move. They were dying, and he knew it - and he was helpless to try and rescue them.

What caught him the most off-guard wasn’t the fact that his own apartment was set ablaze against the intense rain of the night as another thunderclap echoed in his ears, just as quick as the flash of lightning appeared.

It was the fact that, at the base ground of his complex, he saw several men with molotov cocktails still pouring its scorching contents in there. He counted at least 15 of them standing outside, proudly displaying their work.

As he stared, Ren’s eyes became fixated on the burning. He’d been here before, in a dream, witnessing the very same flames licking his apartments from the inside. His heart skipped a beat as the memory rushed back into the front of his mind. But…it couldn’t possibly be, could it?

There was no time to ponder the question.

One of the men turned around, now calling out so as to alert the rest of his presence. Ren’s eyes, once again widened in horror. Another lightning strike illuminated the mystery man’s face. Ren dropped his umbrella, rain drenching his face and clothes. 

The only thing dry in the heat of the moment was his throat.

Of all the people in the world, it had to be you…?

It was Juzo. He grinned sinisterly. “Finally found you, fuckin’ pig!”

Chapter Text

"It is not the strength of the body that counts, but the strength of the spirit." - J.R.R. Tolkien

February 22nd, 20XX
Midnight
Outskirts of Ren’s Apartment

In darkness, in the midst of torrential rain, in between the embers and ash, smoke and steam, Ren ran. No destination in mind, just ran.

15 men were behind him ready to end his life. Where else could he possibly go that was safe? He couldn’t even see five feet in front of him, illuminated by the guiding lamps of the streets. Of many things, running was not what he was expecting to do to preserve his own life right about now.

Everyone was asleep. Every time for what little breathing room he had, he tried to sneak in a message - Akihiko, Chie, Makoto, Naoto…nobody was responding. 110 services were too occupied to answer, almost as if this was a preordained answer from above: ‘Ren Amamiya, you are dying tonight’.

Across alleyways, dimly lit parks, perhaps even behind a dumpster - none of it worked. Ren was being hunted, and he was getting out of breath. They were getting closer, the sounds of large, wet boots slapping against ground was something he became all too acquainted with against an otherwise roaring torrent of rain.

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere Detective Amamiya!” was another factor he’d have to consider, something he heard whilst running away.

Of course - Juzo would come after him. Why wouldn’t he? His girlfriend was dead, but did he know that? He’d only been released recently, it was obvious he’d come looking.

Through the storm, Ren suddenly saw a block of lights disappear once lightning struck the skies, as if parts of the city’s life were taken away from it. A bright, white-hot light whizzed by on one of the electrical power lines before disappearing like a will o'the wisp. Out in the distance - he did not know how far, yet it was close enough - a distinctly horrifying whir of machinery groaned before powering down. A meteoric ‘boom’ occurred, shaking the ground.

A reverberating sound, much akin to pressure being released…before a final, echoing and hollow thunk.

Every light within the vicinity went black.

All had become abandoned on this night. Still, Ren hadn’t the slightest clue of where to run. Suddenly, a thought rushed over him - the subway station. If he retraced his steps, he could make it. He could hide there for the night.

Not long after the power shut down, emergency lights came online. Street lamps reignited the pitch black darkness, like a dying gasp from the world against this intense chase, unwilling to give up. Within sight, Ren ran down the stairs, almost tripping from how heavy the rain seeped its presence down into the station.

It was dimly lit down there. No more trains were running, meaning nowhere to realistically run. Only hide. When all looked clear, Ren went down to the base floor, hiding behind one pillar, breathing heavily.

This isn’t going to last long. I know they’re going to find me.

He contemplated running on the tracks, until a harsh sizzle and crackle reminded him that the tracks were still electrified. He would fry himself before taking another step under these conditions. Even with emergency power, the fluorescent lights flickered - and once more, he was unsure if this was a hallucination from panic, or reality. His heartbeat felt off, and perhaps his eyes were slowly tiring themselves from fatigue, but even against these odds, he bet reality.

Ren, having his back now against a pillar, slid down. His breathing steadied, although he was still severely out of shape from recovery. A part of his bad shoulder ached again, reminding him of the costs of it all. He looked around, checking for any other exits, or any other person. There was nobody here.

His legs prickled horribly. This was the most exertion he’d given his body in a month, he wasn’t used to it at all, even with physical therapy keeping his muscles alive. Each subtle movement to relieve pressure felt like sand rubbing his joints - uncomforting, uneasy. It did not help that he was out and about most of the day already.

To send quintuple the amount of men…it was almost comedic. Ren silently cracked a smile at it. He’d only ever been dealing with three people at a time ready to kill him at a moment’s notice. But 15? Any more and he’d no longer be Mr. Unassuming. This must’ve been the most popular he’d ever be, and they often say people peak in high school.

Ren listened to the sound of the rain as he rested. Even down here, the scent of petrichor was strong, as was the lingering smoke from what remained from his house. A slight wistfulness overcame him in the moment.

My house is gone…where do I go from here…?

He sighed, taking the time to swallow. The station ticker above displayed a single message on repeat: “SERVICE DELAYED”. Ironic, considering services ended. He was certain he couldn’t hear any sirens wailing either against the monotony of raindrops hitting ceramic, and the metallic roofing above him.

With effort, Ren grunted as he stood up, feeling his legs come alive again. Perhaps due to the fact he leaned onto the pillar too harshly with his arm, he felt that dull ache return. He stared up towards the flight of stairs. If he could find a seat, wait out the storm…perhaps he’d make it out alive. There’d be a hotel nearby he could check in, even at this hour.

I’m sure plenty of people would have the same idea if they were in that complex.

One foot over the other, Ren trudged up the stairs. The lights flickered again, intermittently shutting down the power supply before it came back up - another gasp from reality, unbending.

The open plaza area of the subway station could’ve been considered a second home to him from how many times he’d been here in the past before Makoto offered him free rides home. Every shop was closed, all the vending machines were stocked. Its maintenance was questionable, albeit it remained up to standards for cleanliness and a welcoming attitude. A brief respite amidst chaotic times of coming and going.

Once Ren found a suitable spot to sit within his sights, he heard a low whistle crack the silence away. From the far end of the other side of the plaza, one of his pursuers found him.

Shit.

He heard the sounds of multiple boots from all angles - adjacent, behind, in front - encompassing the otherwise quiet zone the subway provided him earlier. A loud crash occurred momentarily, echoing across the station. Someone deliberately tumbled down a nearby magazine stand.

At the very end of this meeting, Juzo emerged as the last member to walk in.

Why did I even think outrunning him was gonna go my way?

Ren bit his lower lip and groaned lightly to himself. He squinted, almost as if he was disgusted at seeing Juzo, even though this was the likeliest outcome.

His grin remained as he cackled to himself. “Where ya goin’ buddy? Ya think hidin’ was gonna save ya?”

Ren remained silent, lightly huffing. All exits were now closed. He was trapped here, and he didn’t have much strength to run at the pace he did earlier. All the adrenaline left him in favor of a pounding heartbeat, near exhausted leg strength, and a lessened sense of dread. He’d been at this for perhaps far too long, and too frequently.

“Where the fuck’s my girlfriend, Detective Amamiya? Huh?” Juzo asked, spitting on the floor.

No matter what Ren could say at this moment, it’d only make the pain worse. Still, he chose silence. It was the only power he had.

Without missing a step, Juzo pulled out a knife from his suit jacket. “You fuckin’ deaf, you pig?! WHERE IS MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND?!” he repeated, brandishing the knife.

As loudmouthed as ever. Ren sighed deeply. If he was going down, he’d do it swinging.

“In prison.” He said, calmly. “We found her the day you got booked.”

Some of Juzo’s men chuckled at that. They closed in on Ren, immediately grabbing both of his arms and holding him. Steadily, Juzo walked, having his path cleared. He casually waved the knife at Ren, a light smirk flashing across his lips. He approached Ren, who now struggled to escape from the clutches of these criminals.

“So get her out.” Juzo responded, as he firmly grazed the cold steel of the knife against Ren’s chest. “Or your gut’s gonna be the one escaping that prison you call a body!”

This was hardly the first time a knife was pressed against his body within this week. Ren remained stoic in the moment, only ever glossing over Juzo’s figure before him. “Would love to. Unfortunately, she’s a bit preoccupied.”

A solid punch was delivered swiftly to Ren’s gut as he lurched forward. At least it wasn’t an edge. He almost keeled over from recovery before standing straight back up, coughing. Briefly, he tasted iron, yet no blood was in his mouth. It cleared his mind enough to think differently. Instead of focusing on the now in resignation, Ren looked for an out.

“First one’s free, motherfucker. You’re gonna tell me exactly what I wanna hear next, or your tongue’s next.”

Ren’s eyes darted around the room. He saw what he needed - black, orbed cameras stationed above the roof. His eyes turned back to Juzo. “There’s surveillance around here. You couldn’t flee even if you killed me.” he answered in retaliation.

The men around him only bursted into laughter. “That what you think detective?” Juzo asked, stifling back his own mirth. His grin only grew wider. His head turned around, looking at his own men. “This guy thinks he can bluff with me, can you believe that shit?” 

He forced one additional laugh. “You’re dumb as bricks. This station’s dead. Fried since the storm hit it.”

No eyes down here except mine, and everybody else’s around me. Dammit.

Once again, of course things weren’t going Ren’s way. But then, he heard it.

Over in the distance, Ren’s eyes caught a glimpse - perchance, a shadow - flicker around the luminescence, followed by a metallic dink against the cold walls of the subway.

Then another, in rhythmic intensity. It approached, slowly, methodically, almost as if it was rehearsing a symphony.

Another soft clang of metal against tile. Then another, and another. Deliberate. Calculated.

The air chilled as the lights, in their inconsistent purpose, flickered on and off. That signature chill running down Ren’s spine has since become a warning sign of an impending death knell. 

The figure approached ever closer, and now Ren could hear something else - a humming tune similar to a lullaby.

This was, what? The third time they’ve met? By now, Ren’s heart was pounding, but, this time, it remained steadier. The discomfort of fear encapsulated, yes, but not for him or the sake of his life - it was for the others.

All of the men around him looked in the same direction as he did. “The fuck is that?” some of them asked themselves.

We’re all screwed now.

He knew who it was. For once in his goddamn life, Ren was so glad she came back, he could almost smile - until he realized what this also meant.

Another bloody crime scene. Another massacre. Another site of a ritual.

The crinkle of her leather boots emerged against the silent downpour of rain, this time, louder against the ceramic finish of the floor. Her movements still remained effortless, agile, and with intent - practiced and also practical. The lights illuminated her figure once again - a full hooded cloak in all black, her surgical black mask concealing herself, and the emergence of raindrops against the material of her own attire.

Almost as if she were drenched in a different set of liquid, its rivulets tracing themselves down to stain the otherwise pristine floor.

His eyes met hers - once more, filled with an unsettling nature akin to a predator who stumbled across prey. Crimson. Murderous. Smiling through that mask.

Crow said nothing as she approached them in silence - her head tilting slightly, yet almost unnaturally swift and with intent. All of Juzo’s men fell silent upon her approach from the shadows and into the dim lights. Some of them nervously laughed, pointing at her.

“Who the fuck’s this clown?”

“H-hey…hold the phone…” Another man jumped in, his voice shaking. “Look at him.”

Sure enough, most of Juzo’s men gauged Crow incorrectly - only because they didn’t know. Her true identity was on a need-to-know, and they clearly had no idea.

“Ain’t this the guy? The one they call The Black Mask?” Another man whispered.

“Can’t be. I heard he’s at least, like, 190 centimeters tall. 6 fucking feet!”

“You’re shittin’ me right?” Juzo asked, once more turning his head around to address his men. “This ain’t the guy.” He shifted his hands to straighten his suit, quietly approaching Crow.

Throughout this entire ordeal, Ren said nothing on the matter. He observed, almost as if he was communicating in another language with Crow. She paid him no mind in the moment, only ever slightly glancing at him. Her attention was more occupied with the man before her.

“This guy’s a mute. Whole circus act we got here - deaf fuckin’ pig, mute fuckin’ clown. Shit’s hilarious.” He laughed, and so did the others - if only briefly. Crow only continued to glower as it upset Juzo, his rage palpable.

He did not like non-answers, that much was already clear. It happened with Ren, and it’ll happen with Crow.

In the blink of an eye, Juzo threw a punch aimed directly at her. In Crow’s usual fashion, she dodged. Fluidly. Precisely. Yet, she remained close to his presence. She did not use her metal bat - for whatever reason - and instead, slammed her entire forehead directly into Juzo’s visage.

He stumbled backwards. A thud resonated loudly.

“Fuck!” He cried. “Motherfuckin’ shit!”

He dropped his knife, letting its metal clang against the surface. Crow kicked it backwards, away from everyone else. 

No longer with any pretense, she strategically tossed her bat over to the side - landing with a loud clunk between the safety of a glass countertop. Lightning struck again, making the lights flicker incessantly before stabilizing.

Still silent, Crow cracked her knuckles as her eyes told an entirely different story. She was going to thoroughly enjoy this.

Without another word, another one of Juzo’s men openly challenged her - Juzo himself cowering behind his group.

The man charged, yelling. Her fist connected, unnervingly halting his momentum. The man collapsed, his knees saving him. 

It mattered not. She used her knee in exchange, bloodying another nose.

Another ran directly into her. She anticipated it. His overconfidence became his downfall.

She moved to the side. Just enough. He stumbled. Crow slammed his head into the ceramic, an eruption of blood sprayed across the floor.

Two rushed blindly. Once more without effort, Crow slid between them - one hand to divert, another to accept. 

One man fell down against the wet puddle of blood, the other provided more before tumbling.

Four men down, one already dead - an unsurprising outcome.

But what Ren didn’t anticipate was that the fourth came with another unexpected event.

He towered over her, closing in fast. However, Crow remained unmoving. Ren’s eyes narrowed, almost as if to question her motives. She was letting him get close. Was it deliberate? He didn’t know until it already happened.

For the first time in Ren’s eyes, he saw her take a hit, and one she didn’t flinch from.

Why did you take that hit?

The man who punched her retracted his arm. He stood in disbelief, almost stepping back. The blow was enough to send Crow’s hood off, revealing her peekaboo brown-black hair color.

And for this encounter, she sized him up by looking at him directly eye-to-eye. Every step he took back, she followed immediately with one forward. When he finally stopped, so did she.

Don’t.

Then, Crow did the unthinkable. Once more, she pulled her mask down, letting it slide down to her chin. Now, the battle damage was clear - there was a notable red mark on Crow’s previously untouched face.

Why…?

Yet, this decision proved to provoke a completely different response from others. Many backed off, yet some stepped forward. All of them had confusion partaking their lips - it was obvious as to the reason why, now that the secret was out of the bag. Crow only took a look at each and every single one of them - all 14 of them still left standing. 

Displaced, yet unified under a cause. Scrambled, yet not shaken.

“This is the Black Mask?! A fucking woman?!” One man shouted.

In response, she grinned. Crow chuckled lightly. Now, she finally spoke. “How about you try again?” she beckoned the man who had just punched her.

Invited him to try again. He did.

Another deft punch loaded with intent. Another jab aimed to flinch. Yet still, she remained immovable.

Crow took it. Again. And again. At some point, all of Juzo’s men fell back into a place all too familiar - one bathed in fear and uncertainty. Just who exactly is this woman?

She smirked, almost licking her lips as a tiny trickle of blood dripped down her lips. Her chuckle turned into a sadistic laugh. “Wanna try again…?” she invited. He accepted - obliged, even.

Mental corrosion was in full effect as the man tried, hopelessly, to do as she asked - his delivery of punishment only driving her laughter to wilder lengths. She only withstood the next blow once more. Without hesitation, or another command, the man attempted to throw another one - only this time, Crow caught it midway.

Her arms latched, catching him mid-swing. Then, a twist. A loud crunch ensued, bones snapping out of place. An inhuman howl ripped across the air.

Another crack, this time, on the man’s kneecaps. One blow from Crow’s leg toppled him.

Now she towered over him, her glare piercing through his entire body. She devilishly smirked, leaning closely into his space, pressing deep into the air he breathed. One unnervingly calm word to end this charade.

“Kneel.”

She dashed - almost too fast for the human eye to perceive immediately - and a bat appeared in her hands. With surgical precision, one loud crunch echoed across the subway station.

Another eruption of red splattered the room. One heavy thud ensued. Multiple panicked screams followed suit.

Thunder reverberated harshly against the subway station as its power died, drowning everything in its darkness. 

Between screams, only the sound of hard rain pouring down. Electrical sparks flew around the tracks, struggling to comprehend this madness in circumstance.

“W-what’re we waiting for?!” Some of them shouted, his voice cracking under the pressure. “We got numbers! C’mon!”

Every individual took their hands off of Ren, blindly pulling knives out of their suits. Seeing his chance, muscle memory kicked in. Ren remembered his police academy days. Disarm, disconnect, de-escalate. Many around him didn’t notice or seem to care, their eyes were hyper focused on Crow.

Nobody here was going to live. That much was already certain. Ren, having now successfully wrestled the knife out of his victim’s hands, quietly slashed his throat.

“I’m sorry.” Ren mouthed, noting how wide the man’s eyes became before he saw the life exit his still corpse. 

Was it out of self-preservation or hatred? He couldn’t quite answer that, not right now. Instead, he only got out of the way as another torrent of crimson erupted out. If it meant surviving, he’d do it again.

Crow had a sinister glint sparked in her eyes, as if they somehow still remained the primary focus against a pitch-dark station - lightning being the only source of sight in this burial site. She let out a low, yet satisfying sigh. “Such utter drivel. ” she snarled, in an equally low tone.

Lightning struck. 

In its flash, movement. In movement, multiplicity.

Too late, as always. 

A hefty swing struck its first chord, thunder answering with a chorus. Knives clattered loudly.

Droplets of dark red splattered. Bodies hit the deck. 

More sacrifices entered. Useless. 

Bone-on-metal crunched, ever brutal in its symphony.

Sparks sizzled, illuminating what little it could. 

In the flickers, skulls caved in. Eyes popped out, dislodged and scattered, the only marble touch against the stains of red.

A pristine room running rampant in death and destruction. 

A cacophony of gurgles escaped - wet. Frantic. Hopeless. Their final curtain call.

Fluorescent lights re-emerged as power restored itself once again, illuminating the gruesome scene of the station. In its absence, the horror showed itself: Crow took down several other men, some of them with unhinged jaws, all left agape and wide-eyed, if they had any eyes left. Some rolled free, trailing blood on the floor.

In the midst of the chaos, Juzo remained frozen, standing bleakly at the site of this massacre. Of the 15 men he brought in, half were already dead upon impact, and the others struggled in mutual agony.

Even the air was bloodstained in scent. Iron permeated in this disgusting union.

One man Crow became fixated upon was crawling backwards, hesitant to get any closer to her, leather boots forever crinkling forward. She held her bat low, its metallic finish scraping heavily across the floor, almost as if she were dragging the weight of a corpse behind her.

Perhaps out of fear and the dread of freeze, none could help him from being released from his mortal coil in that moment, his screams reverberating across the station grounds before being silenced.

It was a familiar scene in rhythm, rather than repetition. Crow’s eyes enraptured the room as her predatorial visage became painted in shades of dark red. Her murderous grin was all that awaited them in their finality.

“Numbers, you said…?” Crow giggled softly, then let out a breathy moan - half delighted, half winded. "Where are they...?"

Out in the corner of his eye, Ren saw one of the men focus on him instead of Crow - his reactions were still slowed, and he was dragged to the floor at the same time as he witnessed Crow deliver one mighty swing down, a large gush of red liquid spraying wildly.

His eyes quickly flicked over to his aggressor, who, in the impact, dropped his knife. Ren did not lose his, and instead firmly held onto its hilt. He felt an unsettling warmth where it was, now that the man was realizing - the blade plunged into his stomach and was rippling downwards, and the knife was closer to Ren’s position than his. His struggles only made the incision worse, Ren used it to his advantage.

It was his bad shoulder still, and with all of his might, he had to push him off. Thus, he exerted pressure within his arm, heaving as the man struggled, coughing up blood to stain his own face and glasses.

His arm hurt. It was the most he’d had to use of it, and it still wasn’t fully recovered. The man desperately tried to get the knife from Ren’s side, only ever out of reach. He had him on the ropes - a little more and he would get free, even if it would set him back a few more weeks of recovery, it wouldn’t matter if he were dead.

A sudden bite ripped through Ren’s shoulder, like a line of burning running straight through. Even as the man was losing his strength, his teeth coated in blood, that loss of momentum sapped Ren’s strength, and now, he was on the other end of the rope, losing. 

He cried out in pain, voice now echoing in the station, now pivoting his arm over to the other man’s knife hand, struggling to push it back - until a large blunt weapon brutally slammed the man’s skull back down, his soul departing from this world.

There was only a brief reprieve until Crow’s figure was overwhelmed by one more figure who swept her off of her feet. In the moment, Ren got on his feet, wincing strongly at the newfound pain on his shoulder. He saw the brief flash of Crow and the man’s bodies tumbling down the set of stairs. Behind him only remained Juzo, and a sea of 13 dead corpses laid out in a bloody ritual.

Breathing heavier than ever, Ren saw Juzo steadily back off, crumbling down onto the ground as his knees gave way. He raised his hands up in defense, eyes pleading, ‘don’t do this’.

If this were the Detective Amamiya of a month and a half ago, he’d already be lost and unable to comprehend this chaos. Unfortunately, this was the Detective Amamiya of today - struggling, yet still persisting. It was rough, crouching back down to meet Juzo at an eye-level. With a knife in hand, Ren drove it into Juzo’s leg, carving cleanly through it as he heard him scream for mercy, guaranteeing no chance of running.

There was one more person. Just one more.

Ren stood up as he witnessed Juzo haplessly crawl away, his pristine white suit slacks stained in red. Slowly, he heard the sounds of a struggle downstairs. Groaning, he advanced. His arm cried out from its white-hot sting, and Ren persisted all the same.

The sounds of metal-on-metal collided with each other as Ren got down to the scene. Crow was now in his position mere moments ago - laid out on the floor, bat positioned defensively as the man straddling her used all of his strength in an attempt to plunge the blade into her.

Without hesitation, Ren made his presence known. He yelled - enough to get the attention of the man towering above Crow to flinch. As if on cue, lightning struck once more, lights flickering in rapid succession.

Time seemingly slowed for him. As he pressed forward, the knife in his hand plunged deeply into the man’s neck, forcibly pushing him over to the side. His blood spewed and stained Ren’s clothes in its momentum. He witnessed the man cower, sniveling as his mouth coughed out a small fountain of crimson liquid.

He gurgled helplessly and weakly grasped at Ren’s hands - the very same tightly latched onto his esophagus with the knife. There wasn’t any ringing in his ears this time, his mind was clear. Made up. Resolved.

Ren pulled out the knife after, a harsh wetness pooling to stain the man’s clothes. His eyes slowly drifted over to Crow’s, who had now stood up alongside him. Both their attentions were only for each other - yet both said nothing.

Did I…do something wrong? Ren thought to himself.

From what was the sensation of a predator, now came someone more human. Crow’s eyes shifted once more into that usual brown Ren saw as she softened her gaze at him. She pursed her lips softly, eyes flicking back and forth at the corpse…and her husband.

Or…perhaps, did I do something right…?

That soft empathy Crow displayed returned back to the forefront. That inviting softness. From her body language in Ren’s perspective - shoulders at ease, a visible look of confusion…as if she were still processing something, only this time, her gaze was perhaps a little too soft from what he came to know of Crow. 

She didn’t mutter anything to herself, only looking at him as if he was…something else. Almost as if she were thanking him without ever saying the words. Crow only let out an unexpectedly soft and trembling breath.

He, too, gazed back at her. Why did he feel like he committed something wrong? It was pretty clear she was flushing red, yet…Ren didn’t do anything off. He did what he had to save her.

Anybody in his situation would’ve done the same…surely?

Unless…

Unless.

He could’ve been freed from this nightmare if he did not intervene. But why, then, did it feel…right?

A small pit formed in his stomach. He did the right thing - and for once in his life as a detective, it yielded the right results, even if it wasn’t something Crow would be willing to admit.

He exhaled, drinking in her presence as she did the same. It was quietly disrupted when the both of them overheard Juzo’s cry in the distance, his pitiful misery begging to be put out.

No words were exchanged between the two, both heads now turning in unison. Even without acknowledgement, the both of them ascended the stairs.

From the destruction they unleashed, Crow and Ren found Juzo halfway up the next set of stairs leading out to the rain. He successfully managed to climb out back into the pouring rain.

His groans were loud, agonizing. Crow approached his path first, followed by Ren. Their shoes and feet blockaded Juzo’s way, as he flipped over to meet them eye-to-eye.

“Detective…please!” He begged helplessly. “Wh-why didn’t you tell me you were with The Black Mask?!”

He crouched down to meet Juzo, frowning slightly. “Sorry. Even I didn’t know.”

“THE FUCK’RE YOU APOLOGIZIN’ FOR?!” Juzo screamed at him.

Crow scoffed and rolled her eyes. Her bat still hung low, scraping the ceramic floor. “Words are wasted, darling…let me relieve him.”

Ren replied immediately, raising his hand up to hold her back. “Wait,” He said before sighing. “I’m sorry I lied to you. Emichika isn’t in prison…she’s dead.”

Juzo almost wanted to headbutt him then and there, if not for the fact his leg was too useless to move and too painful to allow him the privilege. “Y-you MOTHERFUCKER!” he wailed. “SHOULD’VE KILLED YA WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE!”

Ren stood up. Rain drenched all three of them, and left Juzo blinded all the same when he did. “I didn’t kill her.”

“I did.” Crow giggled, lightly waving at him. “You’ll join her soon.”

If he was going to die, at least tell him everything.

Crow raised her bat up, grinning maniacally before Ren grasped it, holding her back just for a little longer.

“Emichika never loved you. When I was kidnapped, I caught her fucking two of your friends,” He let go of the bat, then gazed down harshly on Juzo. “You deserve to know before you die.”

He looked away. Juzo screamed before his silence told Ren all he needed to know, struck and denied midway. It was swift, perhaps a little too swift for him, as the squelch of his skull penetrated his mind. He looked up at the sky instead, feeling the sensation of rain gradually steady itself into a calmer pace.

Another squelch occurred. Then another, metal-on-bone ground to dust. By the time she was finished, Crow let out a long sigh, her exhaustion apparent.

Ren closed his eyes, letting the rain fall relentlessly on his skin. Parts of where it hit stung his bad shoulder, reminding him he still needed to heal, and after this incident? He needed more time. He winced any time a droplet grazed the slice.

He felt Crow’s leather gloves trace themselves down to his hand, knife still being clung onto dearly. With a soft nudge, he loosened his grip, and she took the weapon away from him. Their gazes brushed past one another - Ren noting Crow’s face was cleaned from the rain, and much of her own share of blood was already washed away.

There was still more work to be done.

Time seemed to be a blur as Ren took a seat out in the subway station, parts of his clothes soaking the otherwise dry bench. The rain gradually subsided, reduced to a quiet and gentle rain by the time the bodies were moved away. Blood was hard to remove, yet the small kindness the rain provided was washing away the evidence as best as they could. It wasn’t spotless, he was no professional wiping away a slate.

The smell would make sure of that, as would the future rot and decay this burial site would emanate, instead of the comforting pleasantness of petrichor after a long night of rain, or morning dew after an early spring shower.

He applied some pressure in wiping his hair back, removing whatever rain still clung onto his hair. It was then that he observed his hands - raw, a little red from holding the knife too harshly, and quivering from how many legs he pulled closer to a corpse pile. He didn’t have what it took to fulfill the rest of his obligations.

His wound was wrapped in a dried makeshift bandage now, ripped from whatever material they could salvage off of bodies. It was staunched. That was enough. Wherever Crow was, she was working even in her harshest conditions.

He killed 3. She killed 12. That in of itself was a story the police would have to figure out…and what Ren needed to figure out now was where to stay for the rest of the night.

Ren’s clothes were too stained for any lie to sneak past. Nobody around would be willing to lend him a room if he looked like he murdered someone - and he did. That would raise alarms louder than even a still picture. If one were to describe it as a thousand words, Ren’s arrival would spell out ten thousand in his own wake.

In keeping with distinction, Ren heard the soft crinkle of Crow’s leather boots encroach his presence. She sat down, getting close to him, pressing up on his good shoulder.

Ren’s gaze softly glanced over to her. Briefly, their eyes reconnected to one another. Still, they remained softer than he was familiar with. Still, they retained a brilliantly down-to-earth brown sheen. Her features were bruised from how many hits she took to the face, and it looked painful.

He saw her cracked lower lip ooze a little bit of blood again. Even when he was to rest his arm, he didn’t care - this was another obligation. With his thumb, he delicately pressed it against Crow’s soft lips, wiping that trickle off. It caught her off-guard, and even now, she said nothing, her eyes tracing his movements.

The fact she even let him was another aspect that seemed out of Ren’s depth. For sure he was certain she was going to do something, anything. Bite his thumb, lick the blood off, or move back in disgust, perhaps confusion even. She did neither of that, only furrowing her eyebrows slightly. 

Her skin was warm, betraying how she’d typically be perceived, and her eyes showed an expression of fatigue just as they did every single time they met. Threads of her hair fell back, sticking onto her cheeks.

Wincing, Ren pulled his arm back and wiped the blood off on his pants. They were stained anyway, it didn’t matter. He brushed the torn fabric with his good arm, trying his best not to upset his wound.

The amount of rain was already going to make it worse if it wasn’t treated. Infected, even. Not something he’d like, and the closest hospital would be significantly farther away than his escape point.

Nowhere to go. Nowhere to stay. This entire time…Ren didn’t hear one siren pierce the quiet night of his ward, almost as if it were staged…or worse, provoked. It wasn’t something he wanted to believe despite all evidence suggesting otherwise.

For a brief moment, Ren fetched his phone out of his pocket. Its screen was a bit murkier due to the incredible mix of rain, and still…nobody texted him back. Nobody read anything.

Without missing a beat, Crow stood up, and grabbed Ren on his good arm. He raised an eyebrow before feeling her soft tug forward.

“Crow?” He asked. “What’re you doing?”

She lightly exhaled, heading up the stairs. Ren said nothing afterwards, only following in tow. They exited the subway station, out against the light drizzle occurring. The sky was a deep and dark gray, blocking an otherwise spotless night. 

Because of how intense the rain was, the air chill made Ren shiver and rumble from the cold. They only spent a couple of moments acclimating before Crow shuffled along, dragging Ren with her. They were moving farther away from his apartment complex, to which Ren twisted around to see the smoke died out.

Suddenly, Crow stopped in her tracks and pivoted back around to him. Her eyes met him yet again as she leaned closer to him - not close to his ears, but directly to his face.

“...Akechi.” She said, calmly. Her breath was the only warmth he felt brushing against him.

“What?” Ren asked, still whispering.

“My name is Akechi,” She answered in kind, her smile giving him the only sense of warmth in a cold night.

“And I…am going to take my beloved home with me.”

Chapter Text

“The law is reason, free of passion. Man, when perfected, is the best of animals, but when separated from law and justice, is the worst of all.” - Aristotle

February 22nd, 20XX
Midnight
Meguro Ward, Tokyo

Akechi.

Ren let the name ring in his head, no longer a calling card for a symbol. Now, emboldened with a new name, he had something to hold onto.

Akechi.

It wasn’t exactly the name he’d imagined for her, but it was one that seemed fitting. Though, if anybody were to ask, he wouldn’t know what name she’d ring closely to as they were going ‘home’, no less.

Akechi.

In the early hours of the morning, Akechi made their way out to an undisclosed area near Shibuya’s residential zone - then walked past it into a different segmented zone, one that became restricted ‘due to earthquake damage’. Up in a high rise building, Ren craned his neck up to find its walls dilapidated from poor maintenance. Nobody was here, its life already abandoned from a time long ago, and its entrances were not so easily found, especially at night.

Drops of rain water fell on his glasses when he looked up, forcing him to look back down as Akechi made him follow her along.

He didn’t quite know what building type this was. It certainly wasn’t residential - they didn’t build them that high to maintain air pollution. From the surroundings, he saw a square and a statue long worn down by nature barely in the distance. It felt like an office space of sorts, or a gathering.

This didn’t feel like the place, yet something within Akechi’s body language said otherwise.

“This building…” Ren whispered softly, trailing off shortly afterwards.

Akechi hummed softly. “A monument of failure by the so-called politicians and elites.”

A political building, then, more specifically an annex, albeit the top was missing. Incomplete. To the general populace this must’ve been an office long abandoned. It only seemed fitting from someone like Akechi to be living in a place like this, some high rise hidden in plain sight because society deemed it unworthy.

Wherever Akechi was taking him was not anywhere within the main lobby. They looked at some other entrance that wasn’t notable on the side. A hidden one, perchance? Ren didn’t know the layout by heart. As they went inside, it led to some other location with an elevator in front of them. The room they were in was cold, decrepit, and brutalist feeling with all the concrete surrounding it.

The chill from outside was only absorbed further by how it was built, and Ren could almost see his own breath from it. He shuddered.

When Ren viewed the floor map, there were only 10 floors available for space. At some point, Akechi let go of his hand and zipped open one of her leather pant pockets. Inside was an object of intrigue - an identification card. They quietly stepped into the elevator, followed by a friendly ‘ding’.

For a brief moment, Akechi pressed nothing as the doors remained open. Perhaps the only sign of life living here was the fact that the elevator was still operational and seemingly in mint condition. Its metallic walls were pristine, free of dirt, and relatively spotless, almost as if this saw no true use since the day it was put into service. He looked around further, near the elevator console.

There was a tiny slit that, if Ren were to look at a quick glance, would be perceived as an aesthetic decoration choice. Akechi slid the keycard inside, waited for 3 seconds, and quickly tapped five numbers - 31320 - slow enough for Ren to memorize.

The elevator’s inside light faintly blinked in and out, messing with the floor number indicator in the process before flashing a 1 and a 0 simultaneously, which felt like a complete impossibility. It kept swapping back and forth between 1’s and 0’s, until it landed on the floor indicator of 0…then dashed away to an empty indicator.

No friendly ding occurred as the elevator doors closed, and they slowly ascended. No music played, and from the concrete walls came the pitch black night of the view from the window panes. It might’ve been dark outside, but Ren didn’t even notice that the windows were tinted. Out from the distance, he saw the Tokyo Tower far off, alongside Shibuya Crossing’s ever-present lights illuminating themselves. The bat in Akechi’s hand softly dinked against the wall, reminding him he was still going somewhere.

The floor indicator flicked back to something normal as they were ascending. He would’ve thought by now they’d stop at 10 as soon as he was on Floor 9, but when they did, the elevator did not come to a halt. Instead, it made its way past.

Into Floor 11.

And only then did the elevator stop, propping open its doors. Ahead of them was nothing but a void, and an escape from the cold outside. The atmosphere changed immediately, even if he couldn’t see what was in front of him - instead, he was entranced by the warmth. 

Ren took the first step out of curiosity as the small hall inwards leading into the foyer lit up. Frightened, he took a step back - and then also looked back at Akechi, who was trailing behind him.

The interior was spacious and filled with a luxury Ren’s eyes had never processed before. 

Everywhere he looked, he was blown away, shuffling around in a circle to drink in the view. 

This wasn’t what he had anticipated, at all. The main foyer was decorated, the big open kitchen remained clean, free of dust, a blue velvet couch that seemed completely out of place…

It was dizzying, until he was held once more by Akechi, her leather glove brushing up against his hand again as she escorted him elsewhere.

“Oh, darling,” Akechi whispered back, giggling softly. “I take it you like your new home.”

“Who’d you kill for this?” Ren whispered back as he now found himself sitting in the living room.

She could only laugh again. “You think lowly of me?”

“Not that…just…” Ren, still gobsmacked, glossed his surroundings. This was a far cry from his own apartment. He sat down somewhere, and the comfort of the plush workings of the couch he chose embraced him in a softness he didn’t know could exist. “This feels a little too comfortable.”

Akechi took off one leather glove, letting its wetness drip out as she tossed it onto the coffee table in front of them. She let her bat hang tight elsewhere, letting it lean on one of the walls, and then the other glove came off, launched in the same direction.

Perhaps he misheard it, but as soon as Akechi took off her gloves, she must’ve winced. It caught him off-guard more than the sights ahead. He pursed his lips as he glossed over her figure, watching her take off her jacket to hang it on a nearby coat hanger, leaving only her compression shirt on.

Akechi exhaled before glancing over at Ren’s general direction. She only gave him a few seconds of her time before moving on, grabbing a remote and pressing something before heading over to the bar area.

Within moments, quiet jazz music started playing with a female singer. Immediately, it dawned upon Ren that he’d heard this tune before - the same exact one Akechi hummed to herself all the time. Back at his home, now burnt down, and back at the subway station.

He didn’t know what song it was, yet it felt soothing all the same. He stood up, although it was much more of a struggle than he anticipated. Ren’s knees buckled slightly as he did so, almost as if the couch invited him to crash instead of persist. He refused.

A relieving pop entered the atmosphere when Akechi opened up a bottle of expensive alcohol and propped up two glasses underneath. She poured a tall one into her share of the glass, then quietly hovered the bottle over the other as she returned her stare back at Ren.

“As your wife, would my husband like a drink?” Akechi softly asked.

He hesitated, but all the same slowly moved closer to the bar until he was within range of the glass. She took it as a sign of agreement, letting liquor flow out. He didn’t know its contents, yet he saw the bottle mention it was a malt whiskey from Yamazaki. With enough in the glass, Ren took it, with a faint whiff of vanilla and grapefruit hitting his nose before downing his drink.

Sweet, somewhat with coconut flavor and cranberries mixed in with butter, then immediately hit in the gut with cinnamon and ginger. He recoiled at how strong the alcohol was before setting it down, clenching his stomach. It burned on its way down regardless.

Ren smacked his lips and lightly grinned. “Never been one for drinking.” He remarked. “One’s good enough.”

Akechi hummed before pouring another shot for herself and taking another swig without effort. Her eyes seemed fixated on something else within his proximity as she set her whiskey down, one finger resting on her lips as they slowly formed into a smile.

Without a word, she gently tugged at him again, and Ren followed them upstairs, with several doors locked, and one that was already opened up. From the distance, he saw what looked to be a computer setup running the operations behind everything.

They stopped at one door running parallel with another on the other side of the railings, separated by one more flight into what Ren presumed was the rooftop access. Quietly, Akechi fiddled with the locks until it opened up. She did not twist the knob, only turning around to face Ren, leaning into him.

“Take off your shirt.” She said in a low voice.

He sensed that lingering finish from the whiskey earlier, laced in her breath. Almost inviting him - encouraging him. Take it.

It snapped Ren back to reality. “Wh-what?” He asked.

“Take. Off. Your. Shirt,” She repeated - lulled, even, this time much slower, and leaning ever closer into his ear. “It’s a simple request, isn’t it…?” she giggled.

Heat rose up into his face as Ren stammered. “I-I-I uh…” he struggled, scratching his hair, yet all the same he felt her soft hands play against the hems of his top.

Are we really doing this…? He thought to himself, then stopped. I’m not…I’m not ready yet.

He felt a swift breeze run up from his navel area before the shirt was lifted - partially by him, partially by Akechi. Ren winced when his shoulder reached above a certain height, preventing him from raising it further. With it, he was now exposed with his dry bandage wrapped around. She clung onto it for safekeeping.

The door opened then as the both of them slowly trudged in. “Pants too,” Akechi ordered.

Perhaps a million things were swarming Ren’s mind right now as he was receiving the wildest signals in his brain. This time, he didn’t allow Akechi to grab anything…unnecessary…as he slipped off his slacks, leaving only his socks and underwear. He took off whatever was left of his footwear as another door cracked open, exposing the bathroom.

In the bathroom first? Are we…?

Ren’s thoughts were getting ahead of themselves once Akechi turned on the bathtub water and started filling it, then stepped back into the bedroom.

“Clean yourself up,” she said, pointing inwards as she grabbed the rest of his bloodied clothing. “I’m going to take these down to the laundry room.”

He felt deflated, yet not surprised. Ren took the time to quietly breathe, realizing he was truly dumb for even considering this was something Akechi would be interested in right now. With it, he quietly marched in, feeling his exhaustion gnaw at his bones.

Ren unwrapped his bandage, noting how dirty and bloody it became on the trek over here. He thought back to it earlier, almost a half hour brisk walk across the city - from darkness into artificial light, then silenced by the void of abandonment again.

He found the stool near the shower area, taking the shower head into his hand and seeing soap at the ready in a nearby tray. As best as he could, just so it wouldn’t irritate the wound, Ren cleansed it of any lingering negative presences and kept it dried up once he finished up. Washed hair, washed body…he longed for that after today.

Perhaps for this instance, he felt cleaner than he did before the rain.

Ritual turned from one to another, as he was now stripped of all clothes. His underwear was elsewhere on the marbled countertop, and before long, Ren found himself in a well prepped bath ready to accept him. Once he was in, he rested his shoulder on the cold ceramic of the bath, letting out a long exhale.

I definitely needed this…

Every bit of peace was something Ren wanted to savor. He didn’t think he’d needed a bath so badly in his life, especially after what occurred hours ago. A little bit of self-indulgent behavior was justified. Whether he earned it in blood, or perhaps simply because he was stressed, Ren chose to believe it was the latter.

He curled his toes inside the bath and lightly splashed some water, for fun of course. He chuckled to himself, pressing a button behind him to let the bath jets inside soothingly massage him, parts of the water foaming up in response. He let his head rest, craning it back up so his view was aimed towards the ceiling.

For a brief moment, he was in total tranquility before reality snapped back at him. He needed clothes, and the only ones he was wearing were downstairs getting washed. Maybe tomorrow, he could go out near Shibuya and buy some.

Then of course there’d also be some explanation as to disrupting several of his team’s sleep schedules with his texts. He’d be bombarded in the morning, in all likelihood. But he didn’t care for tonight.

Another passing thought floated around in his head: How exactly did Akechi gain access to this building? Especially if it was a political building then…

A politician.

Wait. A politician?

Ren pondered on it momentarily, as the flood of information from earlier rushed back into his head. Yoshida, Okumura, the two leading suspects. The easiest answer was, of course, Kunikazu Okumura being the target of Akechi’s ire - yet, right now…Okumura wasn’t exactly within the political hemisphere. Connected? Sure. But not inherently a target worthy. And Yoshida…

His silence, and his thought process, would be disrupted, as Ren immediately jolted back up from his peaceful soak inside the tub by the sound of the door swinging open. Water splashed over the surface of the ceramic polish and onto the tiled floor.

Akechi, now with sleeves rolled up, had a medkit in her hand and the whiskey bottle from earlier as she stood inside the bathroom now. “Enjoying yourself?” she asked, teasingly. Ren was a lucky man once again - the foam in the water hid what would later betray that moment of softness.

“Y-yeah…” He muttered, glossing over the medkit, then the alcohol, then his gash. Akechi, without hesitation, took the stool and sat down, setting the medkit aside to observe his wound. She lightly traced its clean opening by hovering her finger.

She observed the whiskey bottle in her hand now, popping open the lid. Its faint scent of vanilla lingered as she quietly offered Ren one more drink. Blankly, Ren stared before declining politely, shaking his head.

“This might sting.” Without hesitation, Akechi pulled back the bottle and let it drip all over his wound, without any swabbing refinement or a sense of delicacy in place. The only satisfaction she got was holding onto him as he writhed. Though it burned like hell, perhaps indulging in a little bit of alcohol earlier helped mellow out the pain and then some.

Quickly, in one smooth motion, Akechi set the bottle down and shuffled around the medkit for a curved needle and sutures, already pre-sanitized and ready to go.

No gloves. Akechi pinched Ren’s flesh together and penetrated the tissue, threading the first suture in. He groaned again, almost flinching backwards. “Be careful!” he hissed.

She remained focused, her gaze undeterred by it. “Relax,” she cooed in her soft, alluring tone. “It’ll be over soon.”

Ren eased himself up as the Akechi did her thing. He slowly drifted back down into the tub, its massaging jets soothing him back to a sense of security. He exhaled again, now feeling the pain lessen over time with repetition. He turned back around, noting how messy the floor was now with sickly sweet whiskey and water drenching the ceramic lip of the bath.

“You’ve been targeting a politician, haven’t you?” He asked.

Like a bullet, it stopped Akechi in her tracks as her focus diverted itself over to him completely. She held onto the sutures and the needle in place, halfway complete from her objective. Her eyes flicked up to meet with Ren’s.

“My, my…how did my Renren learn such a secret like this…?” She whispered softly before her smile turned devilish. “Have you been stalking me in return, dearest…?”

He faltered, almost slinking back in the bathtub.

So I was right. It’s someone…but who?

“Tell me,” Akechi pressed, her warm breath tingling on his shoulder, burning again from the makeshift disinfectant solution. She used her other freehand to touch him, rolling her fingers down his arm and into the water.

“Takemura,” Ren said eventually. “I couldn’t stop thinking about him, so…I checked out his victims. Cross-referenced them with everybody you’ve killed and…me, too. Then, the places where your handiwork was displayed.”

“Oh?” Akechi’s expression changed. She had a toothy grin as he was giving her his own notes…but if this were one step closer to solving a personal case of his, he might have to spill more.

“I…” He trailed off then and there. “Ikebukuro isn’t a hotspot for some reason. I flipped parts of it and…well…” He paused, and Akechi softly chuckled when he couldn’t finish.

“They line up, don’t they…?” Akechi completed his thoughts, and he could only nod. She sighed before returning back to her own work sewing up his wound. “How delightful,” she commented. “I didn’t think anybody would find out about that.” After the final suture was in place but not properly sewed up, Akechi’s glare pierced Ren again. “There’s only one problem…”

She tightly sewed the last thread and snipped it with a pair of scissors. “It wasn’t for you.”

Ren’s eyebrows raised up before furrowing. “...But that…” he muttered. “How could that be?”

Seriously, how? What the fuck?

“Because,” Akechi continued, snickering to herself. “Do you truly believe every part of my plan has anything to do with you…?” 

Didn’t it? Ren continued to stare at Akechi before him, who was giddy in her seat. A sudden thought must’ve encroached inside her brain, because Akechi pressed her palm up to her lips, her expression turning into one of seriousness. “Oh…oh my.” She giggled again. “You must stop being so cute, darling …”

Her arm rested on the lip of the bath as her cheek pressed on it. She used her other hand to splash water on Ren. “You think this is a sweet little game I laid out just for you?”

In disbelief, Ren fully sank into the bath, feeling its warm waters touch his lips. He receded parts of his bad shoulder into the water as well, letting the wound temporarily soak in the water before raising it back up.

“Well, Detective…who do you have on your list for me, hmm?” Akechi teased, running her hand along his leg inside.

“Okumura…or Yoshida.” He said, dryly.

“Ah…what an interesting man, No-Good Tora.” Akechi whispered softly to him, lifting up her head. She continued on performing medical services for Ren, now pulling out gauze. “If only his beliefs lead him to something other than complacency.” she said, unwrapping the roll and applying a hefty amount of whiskey near the beginning.

“It’s him…?” He questioned. His worst fears then, had come true. But a part of him still didn’t want to believe it. It was simply…too convenient. Too messy. This wasn’t the person he thought someone like her would target.

“I don’t kill people who believe in something, dear,” She proclaimed, grabbing a clean towel nearby to help dry the surface area. Slowly, she began wrapping his arm. “It’s the complacency. The cowardice. I’ve issues with that, instead.”

Even the placement of the wrap stung him, and he wasn’t sure if it was a different sting than the account he was hearing. “And Okumura…?” he asked, almost as if he didn’t want to.

She hummed. “You’re looking at the wrong people, yet you’re on the right track.”

“So…” Ren bit his lower lip. “Not Yoshida?” He wanted. He hoped.

She said nothing, only smiling. It was enough of a response that he could garner. Enough to help discourage him in the right way.

Good.

Once the wrap completed, Akechi grabbed what was left of the liquor, downing the rest of it without the need of a glass. She softly licked her lips.

“Now…” She spoke, letting that vanilla finish remind Ren once more of what it implied. “I’m going to wash myself.” She trailed her fingers on his arm again, giggling as she usually does. “And don’t even think about barging in on me.”

Akechi picked up what was left of the medkit, pushing the stool back somewhere safer and closer to the showerhead, and departed from the room. She left the bathroom door open - perhaps deliberately, as she hummed that same jazz tune from earlier.

Before she left, Ren spotted something at the back of her arm - too dark to form a shadow, yet too light to be anything else.

He saw what looked like a bruise. Well hidden away from his prying eyes. It wasn’t yellowing, as if it were freshly given from the bloody escapade of earlier.

Ren lingered in the bathtub for a little while longer, feeling his exhaustion ease up by the time he finished. He drained the watery contents, and cleaned up what he could of the tiled floor’s whiskey-water mixture, letting it pool around the drain.

Without clothes, Ren only had his underwear and a towel wrapped around him. It was, for the time being, his only safety in a house of unfamiliarity. He stepped outside after wiping down his legs to dry any water residue.

At least it was warm inside.

Ren entered back into what he presumed to be the guest bedroom, but was now his, and entered back into the long hallway of doors. The room with the computer was still open as he quietly walked inside. Contrasting his other senses, the room was sterile in nature and a bit dusty. It wasn’t a server room, but it sure felt like one to him.

Machinery hummed, several monitors were on the wall that weren’t noticeable, and all of them lined up with surveillance cameras around the exterior of the place. Whether they were installed by Akechi or were already here was not something he’d like to ponder right now, as Ren quietly exited out.

Back downstairs, Ren investigated what he could of this safehouse. He hovered around the kitchen area, opening up several cabinets to investigate what was in them. Plates, cups, all in abundance and with top notch quality breathing within the walls of opulence. 

Down in the pantry, there were emergency rations already in there - no surprises - but what seemed to be of interest was the astounding amount of instant ramen and other easy-to-make products.

He opened the fridge - the sudden chill making him clutch his towel tighter before it rescinded, having acclimatized in a near instant. Aside from ingredients - tofu, chicken, eggs, basically the whole food pyramid, there wasn’t much else in here that would’ve piqued his interest. No sauces either.

On the surfaces were convenient appliances to help speed up the process of cooking and cleaning - food processors, microwave ovens, a fully functional baking oven, dishwasher…extremely expensive rice cooker. Good enough to make porridge and cook other grains, too.

He observed his surroundings in this open kitchen, finding his way to where the knives were. His heartbeat skipped temporarily as he saw a familiar one mounted firmly inside. Its design was clearly different from the rest, it was shoddier in nature from not being sharpened or used with such infrequency. 

He pulled it out, feeling its hilt on his hands. Its sense against his palm was all too uncomfortable, a quiet reminder to him. Without lingering in the moment, Ren slid the knife back in.

Across the room, where the immensely plush couch was, stood a home theater and a massive television that he didn’t parse the first time. It blended so well against the tinted windows he thought it was part of the building rather than an extension of it. A dimly lit chandelier hung, inviting him to stay a while longer and admire.

The comfort was what was perhaps the most unsettling about this place. Not Akechi herself, or even the fact her behavior was…insistent. The warm glow of the interior, how homely the place all felt, was in stark contrast to everything else he stood for and came to believe about her. Where, exactly, did the line get drawn?

One of the doors remained open, giving a quiet hum towards the washing machine. He made his way over to the laundry room, with the pleasant scent of cleaning products wafting into his nose.

Everything about this place was cozy embodied. Somebody planned to live here, even though it was a political building. Several questions were hurled at him: What about taxes? Power grid issues? Who’s paying for all of this?

Too much to consider, not realistically enough time to look for what really mattered: Clothes.

He checked the washer in time to see that they were ready to move into the dryer. Using one hand, Ren stuffed his wet clothes into the dryer and closed the door on it, shuffled back up and pressed a couple of buttons to set it to dry.

He’d have to investigate more on his off time. He held onto his phone tightly, flicking the screen on. The time was already 3 in the morning - far, far too late for his usual state of affairs. He didn’t feel like sleeping almost naked either, as he went back upstairs, and closer to Akechi’s bedroom.

As he ascended back up, Ren heard coughing muffled. His eyes quickly gazed over, and in a panic, he didn’t hesitate to get in there. As he swung open the door, he paid no mind to the darkness in the room - only the light in the bathroom attracted him. The coughing grew louder before a wet sputter gave pause to the noise.

When he saw Akechi, now adorned in extremely baggy clothes - an oversized black hoodie, comfortable gray sweatpants, and overall an interestingly…intimate, sense emanating off of her. Her hair was still sleek from cleaning herself, locks if it sticking to her cheeks. His next focus was towards the sink.

Blood. Akechi had coughed up blood. Stray drops still blanketed the porcelain sink in its liquid.

In the reflection, Akechi rolled up her oversized sleeves before they gradually tumbled back down. She sighed deeply and noticed Ren, standing straight back up. Immediately, she hid any evidence of that blood by letting the sink run water and covering it with her figure. “Quite a surprise,” she remarked quietly, clearing her throat. “I thought you’d have gone to bed already.”

Her skin was paler than normal - if Ren could even count her already near opaque visage as ‘normal’. Her lips were stained faintly with red as she licked whatever remained, hiding all potential evidence.

He knew, even if she tried to deny it. He got closer to her temporarily. “Are you alright?” He asked, worry encompassing his tone.

With a soft gaze, Akechi rolled her eyes and scoffed before replying, “As I could ever be.”

She took the time to notice that Ren was still in his towel. “I take it my husband needs something from me.”

Ren pursed his lips, tugging on his towel a little more. “Yeah…” he scratched his head again, feeling some minor wetness from his hair. “Clothes.”

“We can buy you some tomorrow. Your clothes downstairs are almost done.”

His attention turned over to the big wardrobe in the walk-in closet. He saw Akechi’s leather jacket and compression shirt hung up neatly over there, alongside everything else. Gloves, pants…cloak. Ren pointed over at it. “Can I at least look to see?”

“...Darling,” Akechi started, only chuckling lightly. “I know you have functioning eyes. I’m a woman.”

Ren glanced over at her figure, baggy as it might be. He stood close to her, equal measure in height, and lightly tugged at her hoodie sleeve. “I think we might be the same size. Maybe.”

He didn’t hesitate to walk into the closet and bring light into it. His eyes wandered around as Akechi leaned over the arches leading there, one foot crossed over the other alongside her arms.

As he looked, he did find another comfy hoodie and something resembling pajamas for him. He took off the towel, letting it hang on one of the door hangers, and sampled the sweatpants. Sliding one leg in another, sure enough, fit him neatly. He didn’t need to pull at any of the strings to tighten the elastic band around him.

He grinned, then gazed back at Akechi. “It fits, see? How about it?”

She stood in silence, her fingers twitching ever so faintly. She furrowed her eyebrows and quickly approached him, grabbing him by the belt area. Her eyes had a certain flicker to it, and he was unsure if it was playful or aggressive, or even both. “Take it off.” Her tone was different this time around - low, yet astonishingly cold.

Before he knew it, Ren felt a strong pull against the pants he was wearing. He held back, pulling them back up. “Hey, wait!” he ordered, but Akechi wasn’t listening. She pulled harder.

Is she so defensive about clothes that I’m really gonna lie naked before I get clothes tonight?

Ren stopped struggling afterwards, deliberately lifting up one leg when she got there, then the other. Once more, he was only exposed in his boxers as she rose back up, giving one soft cough into her hand.

“Don’t do that again.” Akechi hissed at him. “It’s mine.”

Ren nervously swallowed, covering up what he could with his hands. “Sorry,” he replied. “I…”

Akechi hung back up the pants and came back close to him. “Don’t.” she insisted. “We’ll buy you clothes. You can make it one night sleeping like this.”

She glowered, getting closer to Ren’s space. Her eyes softened again as she shifted her features again into a soft smile. “Or…maybe it’s your business that you’d like to wear clothes designed for a girl like me…?”

Ren was now confused as he felt Akechi’s warmth push up against him. He felt inclined to take a step back, unsure of where he should be at this moment. The towel was just out of arm’s reach, and he glanced over it swiftly before turning back to meet Akechi’s gaze.

“I…” Ren began, words getting caught up in his throat. He swallowed again. “It could be my business for something else.”

“Oh?” Akechi asked. “What might that be?”

He was hesitant as the thought crept up in his mind again. A question he asked himself earlier, yet was now given an opportunity to try. Perhaps, get to another point in their relationship. Slowly, he raised his hand up and brushed away Akechi’s hair, almost caressing her cheek again.

Her expression changed, as did her demeanor. Like that subway station incident from before, like the first time they met. A quiet tension between them, intertwined with uncertainty, of fear, yet also of softness in the unspoken.

“Why can’t I be this close to you, exactly…?” Ren whispered, almost hushed. He wanted another chance - to see, to make sure this moment felt real. He leaned in again, breath caught in his lungs, gradually…slowly…

Until Akechi backed off, freeing herself from Ren’s grasp, turned around. She turned only her head backwards, with parts of her gaze perhaps lingering a little longer than Ren could care to admit. He was lost in the moment, unsure of what her response was.

She turned away afterwards, clenching her fists. “Go to sleep, darling.” she ordered him, sternly.

Ren pursed his lips again, only nodding solemnly. Quietly, he brushed past Akechi’s figure, letting that comfy hoodie touch him on the way out. He held onto his breath all the way out, until Akechi closed her bedroom doors on him.

Now, without a towel, Ren felt a chill even when it was warm mere moments ago. He turned around, almost foolishly wanting to try again. He raised his hand up, balling into a fist, and wanted to knock on her door. He hesitated - lingering on it just as she did, before settling back.

He eyed his bedroom door afterwards, resigned at the fact he did not understand what Akechi wanted. Before he could enter, he heard the dryer go off downstairs.

Whatever the case, he wouldn’t sleep naked tonight - just uncomfortably so. Ren put his shirt back on, followed by his coat, and then his pants. He folded his socks together and carried them, pocketing his phone back into his coat pocket for the time being.

Now in his own bedroom, Ren took off his coat and placed the phone on the counter side of a massive king-sized bed, with his glasses on the farther end. It was much, much softer than his old futon, and might take some getting used to. His hand softly trailed the entire body of his pillow - firm, yet not so much that it would hurt his neck.

Enough.

Ren, with one foot creeping over to the bed, and then the other, laid down, lightly groaning at the pain his arm presented him again, a gentle reminder to take it easy, and one step at a time. Blankets were just below his feet, yet he didn’t feel inclined to pull them up yet.

What is it you want from me, exactly, Akechi?

His thought struck a nerve against what Naoto told him. Was he not being serenaded like he thought? Was there more to it than meets the eye?

His head shifted over to where Akechi’s room was. He stared blankly against the wall, his hand instinctively reaching out, as if there were a want - a need, more like - to have something with her tonight.

He shifted his head to meet the other empty head pillow across from him, the same hand lightly touching down on the empty space there.

For the first time in a long time, Ren Amamiya was stumped at trying to figure out a solution to his problems. Especially in the case of someone who he was trying to solve mentally in his head.

First the politician. Then, perhaps, his own feelings.

Maybe this safehouse wasn’t as comfortable as he’d thought. He felt like he’d just returned to square one with everything, a soft aching pang striking at his heart.

Ren curled his legs up, tugging at the blankets with his feet, just enough to lend pulling it with his hands. He softly breathed, closing his eyes, and drifted off shortly thereafter.

Chapter Text

“Within each of us, there is a silence, a silence as vast as the universe. When we experience that silence, we remember who we are.” - Gunilla Norris

February 22nd, 20XX
Early Morning
Ren and Akechi’s Safehouse

In the early hours of daylight, Ren felt an unnerving calm fill his room as he gradually lifted his eyelids open. He groaned, feeling a white-hot pain emerge from his arm again. Gradually, he rose up from his bed and looked around.

Door closed, the very same from last night. Nobody intruded. In all likelihood, Akechi went to bed not too long after he did, he barely heard anything past his head hitting the pillow from last night. He curled his legs up, instinctively picking at his bandage for a little bit. The pain hadn’t receded, and although it was still fresh, it didn’t bleed as profusely.

Over on the side where he left his phone, Ren picked it up to check if anybody remembered to reach out to him. The sun was already out on his day off.

Texts from Naoto, Chie, Makoto, Akihiko, all within the hour that he slept. A couple missed phone calls from his partner that he’d have to call back later on. As if on cue, a new phone number reached him, one he was unfamiliar with. It wanted to do a video call. Furrowing his eyebrows, Ren tilted his head, hesitant to answer. Regardless, he flicked the answer button and put the receiver close to his ear.

“Hello?” He responded, waiting for the camera to finish loading whoever was video calling him at this hour of the day.

After the moment subsided, Dr. Maruki’s face showed up, clearly too zoomed in. His hair was ever so fluffy, yet unkempt, and he had some stubble to his chin. Much like Ren, he wore glasses - but unlike Ren, his were prescription. In his typical attire he wore a lab coat with a baby blue collared shirt, with his tie loosened. 

“Ah, hi there,” he answered, adjusting the phone’s position, “give me a moment here.” He said, finagling with the camera until it zoomed out.

Ren hummed and let him do his thing. Once he settled in, he gave a brief wave from the screen. “Hey there.”

“Good to see you again, Detective Amamiya!” Maruki said, giving his best smile. “Listen, I wanted to make a quick courtesy call to make sure you’ve been alright.”

Ren gave a soft smile as well, brushing parts of his hair away. “Could be better. Just stressed.”

“Sounds absolutely normal for detectives in the force, then,” Maruki replied, chuckling to himself. “Do you have any other concerns about your recovery process for me?”

“Unless you’re doing your psych work for free, then no.” Ren said dryly.

“You’re lucky the government’s footing the bill,” Maruki answered back, teasing Ren. “But, I know when you’re not willing to talk. If you’re ever in need of opening up about your thoughts, feel free to reach out to me.”

“I’ll certainly try,” Ren said again. “Thank you.”

The call ended then and there as Ren scanned his surroundings. He sort of missed his open terrace from his now burned down apartment, and the next best runner-up would be heading upstairs to the roof access. Steadily, he slipped his feet off of the bed, making his way around to gather his shoes, and then headed up.

Upon opening the door, Ren’s senses were gently embraced by the crisp morning air as he breathed deeply in. At this stage, he’d taken for granted how much it meant to him, and all the same, the faint warmth of the sun let him know - he was alive and breathing. With that, he still had a life to live, one to keep appearances with.

Hovering over his phone, Ren dialed Makoto and waited on her to pick up the phone - surprisingly, she didn’t even wait for it to ring more than once.

“You’re alive,” Makoto said, without hesitation. “Thank goodness…”

“Hello to you, too, Makoto.” Ren replied, softly smiling to himself.

He could hear Makoto grunt slightly on her end. “You gave me a panic last night, texting me something so cryptic. What happened?”

Ren droned for a moment, looking around at the skyline. “Uh…well, let’s…let’s just say my house isn’t a house anymore.”

Silence. Ren cleared his throat before eventually saying, “It’s burnt down.”

“Oh my god, are you alright?!” Makoto exclaimed, her tone in a sudden panic. “Do you need a place to stay? Where are you right now?”

Another silence. Ren looked down the multiple stories of the safehouse to the ground floor. He swallowed and turned around, letting his back face the railing instead. “I’m at a friend’s place. They’re well connected, and I’m safe.” He said eventually.

“Who is it?” Makoto asked swiftly. “Is it somebody in the SIU we know?”

Ren, struggling, knew he could not tell her about Akechi right about now. It would only implicate a severity the likes of which he couldn’t dig himself out of. Of many things, he hated how smooth lying felt to him when it came down to it. Even for someone like Makoto. Ren’s fingers latched onto his phone just a little bit tighter.

“It’s somebody I met a long time ago when I was at university, back in Yokohama. They’re staying in Tokyo, so…”

Hopefully she buys it.

Another painfully awkward silence before he heard Makoto sigh. “Did you not want to stay with me…?” She softly said. “It’s not like sis and I can’t keep you safe.”

“Makoto, they burned my house down. Yours could’ve been next, especially since they knew where I lived and were after me most of the night.”

“Who was it?”

The more he said, the worse this would be. But, if nothing else, she deserved to know. Eventually, Ren confirmed who it was. Slowly, he told her. “Juzo, to nobody’s surprise.”

Another deep sigh from her end. “Of course it was…”

For perhaps the fourth awkward silence in a row, Ren decided he wouldn’t keep this up much longer. One day, he’ll have Makoto know everything. Right now, he was in a lion’s den unsure if this was going to be a permanent feature. From how it was going, it may as well be - and if she’d ever found out he was with The Black Mask, it’d be over.

“Look, it’s my day off. I’m doing okay. I need to…buy clothes. Groceries. Any other essentials. But I’ll be alright.”

“Ren-kun…” Makoto whispered. “Are you sure…?”

If only she could see him nod. He did so, before confirming it as well. “I will be.”

“...Don’t be a stranger, alright? Call me if you need anything - seriously. You’re not a burden.” Makoto reaffirmed, once again exhaling into the receiver. “I’m your partner, after all.”

“Buy you some sushi later if you’re that concerned,” Ren joked, lightly chuckling. “Come on. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you. I only just woke up. But…” He clicked his tongue, “see you around.”

“See you.” Makoto repeated as the phone hung up. Ren, now deeply sighing, turned back around to look out to the city once again. A cool wind breezed through his hair as he soaked in the quiet moment of peace between him and what unfolded the night before.

In the midst of all of that, he texted back all of his team members. He was fine, all was well. Talk later. Specifically for Akihiko, he submitted in another one of his requests to retrieve some files for work, this time on Takemura, if Akihiko could find anything at all, that is. 

By the end of it, Ren pocketed his phone, now freed from job-related responsibilities for the day. The quiet mornings to him were the best - no cars commuting, no people talking. Just him, the serenity, and the bliss.

What’d make it perfect would’ve been a cup of coffee.

…Did this place even have coffee?

Ren turned back around again, facing the door exiting the roof. He didn’t check the kitchen thoroughly enough to investigate if they had beans, or a coffee machine, or anything of the sort. Thus, off Ren went, back downstairs and into the kitchen.

Now that things died down and the morning was underway, Ren took the time to take stock of the safehouse. For all intents and purposes, he managed to find packets of quality ground coffee already stored in cardboard boxes in a shelf he didn’t take a look at initially. Between that, matcha tea, oolong, basically a general assortment of drink mixes, he wouldn’t have to buy any of that…

If not for the fact these expired almost a few years ago. He groaned, almost tearfully throwing away the entire cardboard box. There wasn’t even a coffee machine in sight. Truly, whoever designed this safehouse only cared for alcoholic drinks and not much else.

Out on his phone, Ren tapped in some key grocery items. His thoughts ran amuck until he remembered, all of that food he bought no less than a week ago was already wasted because it was all ash now. Instant ramen, curry, coffee (with machine!), tea, and several other ingredients for meals - he stopped. It was all a little too much.

I don’t get paid enough for this.

He facepalmed and took off his glasses, wiping his brow. At the very least he could enjoy a homemade breakfast. Prepackaged meals were available, as were protein bars, but something homemade, to him, was infinitely better.

But he’d need to wake Akechi up first before he could make anything. By the time he finished taking inventory, he realized it was already a full hour of passing, and despite the noise he made, she was still not up. Perhaps because it wasn’t his bed, Ren only ever got up earlier than he cared to admit. He must’ve gotten, what exactly? Five hours of rest? Not very healthy.

He went upstairs, back to the hallway across from Akechi’s bedroom. Surprisingly, he found the door ajar. Slowly, he trudged inside, quietly sliding in, taking note of how dark the room was.

“Akechi?” He whispered softly. No response.

He heard rasping. More specifically, very raspy and labored breathing. He wasn’t quite sure if that was a good or bad thing - on the one hand, Akechi was alive. On the other, she didn’t sound too good either way.

Without a response and any visual, Ren made his way over to the huge curtains, drawing them in for light. When he did, he caught a small glimpse of Akechi’s figure underneath all of her blankets. He saw a brief glimpse of a blackened bruise before Akechi’s blankets rustled, and her body stirred. A low groan emitted from her.

“Darling…” She uttered, voice croaking. Her usual sultry tone was missing this time around. She rasped once again, “Have you come to check up on me…?”

Ren walked over to her side of the bed, leaning in to check on her some more. Even as close as he was, he couldn’t see past how high her blankets were. When he reached for them to pull the blankets down slightly, he almost wished he didn’t.

Akechi’s face was now covered in bruises, and one of her eyes was clearly swollen to the point where it looked like it was halfway shut. Her one good eye was already open, half-lidded. All over her features were white bandages - one big bandage covering her cheek, notably swollen, another small one laid in a strip across her nose. She smiled softly and lightly chuckled. “Hello, dear…”

It betrayed Ren’s sense of who Akechi was, especially after everything he’d been through. He’d never seen her in this way either. Put it simply, Akechi looked like she’d been through hell. He pursed his lips, eyes softening, and he brushed a little bit of her hair away.

“Are you alright?” Ren softly asked. Slowly, Akechi brushed her hand over his own.

“You worry too much,” she said, gradually rising out of bed. It didn’t come without its share of obvious wincing that she was deliberately trying to hide. Her body language was all over the place - pained, yet soft trying to maintain some level of toughness.

She sighed, letting her feet drag across the bed out of the blankets. “We…still have to go clothes shopping. Don’t we?”

“I can go alone,” Ren said, following her as she stood up at a glacial pace. She almost toppled over, but raised her hand to not allow him to intervene.

“You will do no such thing.” Akechi said, her voice still coarse. “I have to take care of my husband’s needs, after all…”

Somehow, even through her pain, Ren could see a sense of deliberate movement to her that remained present in the way Akechi, if not always, was. When she went into her own bathroom, Ren promptly did the same in his own bathroom, freshening up. By the time he finished, Akechi was nowhere to be seen, and the bathroom door was still closed.

With her still doing her thing, Ren opted to explore. Something of note to him was the fact he must’ve been really tired last night, because he didn’t register the actual scope of this political safehouse hidden atop an abandoned annex - there were many, many more rooms he hadn’t discovered on his way around.

From the computer room, he saw an emergency hatch that couldn’t be opened from the outside, denoting it must’ve been the panic room. In a separate room closer to Akechi’s bedroom, he found an armory containing all of her memorabilia - several aluminum bats, knives, even a briefcase that he dared not open.

Many other rooms were seemingly unfinished. There were no studies, no actual rooms for growth. All of it seemed stripped down to remain utilitarian in nature, a soft betrayal of the ‘safe’ aspect of a safehouse. When he concluded his search around for now, he heard the sound of footsteps from upstairs.

Akechi finished whilst Ren remained at the 11th floor. He saw the flow of her gait as she moved downstairs. To him, it didn’t look like the cycle of anybody badly injured. It was then that Akechi made her way to the kitchen, deeply sighing as she did so. 

She went for the knife immediately, and opened up the fridge by her lonesome, even if it was slow. Any attempt for Ren to assist was only ever met with a small level of resistance that he’d be foolish to fight on. All the same, he tried to help in any way he could.

“You still need breakfast…allow me to make it for you,” Akechi said, grabbing the last ingredient - eggs out of the carton. She shut the fridge with her foot.

He didn’t like what he saw. Ren stepped forward, wanting to get closer to her - and somehow, what happened next felt like the realm of the supernatural. Akechi got out of the way, rolling out of his presence and swiftly glided across the floor, now pointing the knife at him. In a microsecond, Ren saw her lightly stumble on her own two feet. He pretended not to as he raised his hands up in defense.

“Sit,” Akechi commanded, whipping the knife’s edge over to one of the stools at the island table. A bead of sweat ran down Ren’s brow as he walked over to where she gestured. Akechi smiled then, setting the ingredients together. “Good boy…”

Her posture softened up as she prepared food for him. It’d be better if Ren said nothing right now, only letting her do the work, lest he be part of the meal instead. Still, it granted him a quiet audience that could peer into someone’s refinement of the arts, even if they were injured.

As he observed, Ren came to notice Akechi’s balances, now without a hint of fear laden behind them. Her knife movements were precise, sharp, and professional, like watching a dance unfolding, as were her skills with handling a pan.

Despite her injuries, Akechi still pushed through and made something. There were moments, of course, where Ren saw her struggle with certain movements, yet she compartmentalized nevertheless. By the end of it, he was served an omelette with cheese and chicken inside, no garnishes, no nothing. There wasn’t any clever plating to it either, what was on there was simple and clean.

As for Akechi, she fetched herself a protein shake inside the fridge. Easy enough - she couldn’t chew on a protein bar to save her life, or anything hard. A shake would do…albeit it wouldn’t satisfy. With the first bite, Ren savored the flavor. While it was nutritiously dense and decent, there was a quality to it he couldn’t ignore.

“How is it…?” Akechi whispered, croaking.

Ren swallowed, softly smacking his lips. “How do I put this…?” He softly uttered, rubbing his chin. “While I think it’s delicious and nutritious…there’s no soul in it. No passion.”

She scoffed, downing her shake before disposing of the bottle in the recycle bin. “Meals are to keep you going. Sustenance. Nothing more, nothing less. If it’s delicious, it’s good enough.”

He said nothing then as he quietly finished up his breakfast for the day, unsure of what else to talk to her about. Points to her though, she had proper etiquette on how to cook food and not make it undercooked.

She's going to have to learn at some point…

February 22nd, 20XX
Morning
Shibuya

Descending the elevator back down, both Ren and Akechi entered into a quiet alleyway on their way out. Akechi had grabbed a scarf on the way down, furthering any chance for her to hide her bruises. 

Alongside that, she wore one of her many black surgical masks on the outside, hoodie up, and just before departing for the nearby train station, she stood in front of Ren, blocking his way temporarily.

“Give me your glasses,” she rasped out.

Ren raised his eyebrow. “Why?”

Even without the question, Akechi already went forward, closer to him, and swiped his frames off of his face, putting them on her own. “I know why you wear them.”

Without missing a beat, Ren slightly smiled back at her. “...Sure.” He said. When she let the frames adjust, Ren could see that it protected her from appearing like she had swollen eyes and bruises better.

For a moment, Ren pressed his index finger on his lips inquisitively. To really sell the effect, he got close to Akechi’s figure, taking off her hoodie. He glossed over her hair.

“...What are you doing?” Akechi whispered.

He ruffled her hair then, making it unkempt and furthering her otherwise disheveled look. The aspect of her naturally brown and dyed black frizzled any sort of synergy going for it. All the more, it made her hair look even messier. 

Added with the mask, she looked rather…demure? Or was it perhaps cute? Akechi stood in silence as her own eyes glossed over Ren’s figure. She said nothing, only taking a quick breath and moving forward to the station. He could not help but cover his own mouth and wipe down in embarrassment.

I’m thinking a serial killer is cute now…

Perhaps Akechi’s bruises were a blessing in disguise. Even though she was normally averse to connecting, for this occasion, she clung onto Ren closely, hiding the cut strip of cloth from his arm in the process. 

In return, whether subconsciously or not, Ren shielded Akechi from any discerning passerbys looking on from her whilst they were onboard the train.

As per usual, the trains were crowded. Students, salarymen, tourists, every section was occupied or otherwise taken up by a body. The two of them kept close to one another, and Ren made extra care not to callously bump into Akechi to exacerbate her bruises. Despite that, there were moments where it was clear she was having difficulties keeping upright.

At one stop, Akechi slid into Ren’s form, and he caught her halfway, minimizing their impact together. Instinctively, his arms were already around her as his back slammed into somebody else.

“You alright?” Ren softly whispered, genuine worry in his eyes as they passed over Akechi’s gaze through his own glasses.

She said nothing, only steadying herself, clearing her throat, and getting out of Ren’s space.

Once they departed the station, they wandered, and eventually entered one of the many men’s clothing stores spread around the district. The easiest stores to find around were the typical brands others could find around the world - Levy’s, J&M, UNIQLY. 

There was even an up and coming new apparel shop by some new celebrity around town. From eavesdropping on gossip, they inquired that it belonged to Alice Hiiragi, although both of them had no clue who that was. Nevertheless, they weren’t bothered by civilians going around the district.

As for the J&M, both Akechi and Ren were staring at racks of women’s clothes front and center. They briefly looked at one another before Ren started heading towards the elevator. Akechi’s hand caught onto his coat sleeve as he lightly tugged at him. Ren shuffled around, meeting her face-to-face. “You said you wanted clothes. I see them around me.”

“These are women’s clothes, though…?” Ren commented, unsure.

“Oh? I seem to recall you not having an issue with it last night…” Akechi teased, albeit she remained straight-faced.

With a sigh, Ren was the one who eased up the air between them. He forced a soft bit of laughter before taking her hand. “You have comfy clothes. Don’t blame me.”

On this particular day, J&M seemed more like a hotspot for girls shopping. For the 4th floor, it was relatively quieter than normal, not a single soul within the same department. It gave Ren all the time he needed to purchase whatever he desired within reason. He scoured the aisles, picking clothes that felt up-to-snuff with his older wardrobe - gray mackintosh coat, black sweater, button-up v-necks, all within his possession to at least try out in a dressing room.

It seemed, whilst Ren was captivated by what he could purchase, he’d still have to pay for it with his own money. He kept it moderate, and entered inside a dressing room unoccupied.

Setting his clothes down, Ren almost forgot to lock the door, until Akechi marched inside and locked it in with the both of them inside, surprising him as she was grinning. She pulled her mask down, revealing those bruises again with bandages.

“I…I think I can manage this by myself, Akechi.” Ren spoke, holding one article of clothing closely to his chest. He hadn’t even undressed, and she was undeterred, by which point Akechi was already encroaching upon his space further.

“At least let me help you,” she said. If she were trying for the seductive angle, it still failed - her voice croaked and rasped with difficulty. “It’s not like you’ve not been without clothes in front of me before.”

Ren swallowed, almost choking on his own spittle when he heard her. Regardless, Akechi backed off once again and giggled to herself as she sat on the bench. There was still room for Ren to sit down as well, if he needed it.

For obvious reasons, he took off his coat and his shirt and tried one of the many he took out of their respective aisles, starting with the black turtleneck. As he was looking in the mirror, Ren quietly turned around to see if there would be any struggles with mobility. For Akechi however, she hummed politely and rested one of her hands on her chin. “Should I be flattered?”

He adjusted the sleeves, looking over at her, blinking a few times. “Because it’s black?”

“Not black,” she corrected, leaning in and wincing at the awkward, jerked movement. “This feels like something I handpicked.”

Ren turned to her now, towering over her. If she was going to commentate, he may as well play at her game as well. He bent down slightly, meeting up with her once again face-to-face. “Who’s to say you haven’t, really?”

She scoffed and pushed him back, giggling again. “Darling, just because my wardrobe’s off limits doesn’t mean you can copy it.”

He expanded his arms out in protest. “They’re men’s clothes. That’s the difference now.” He smirked, returning back to the mirror. “I’ll take it as a yes.”

Next article of clothing came to be a fairly decent replica of his simple gray mackintosh coat, although as he slipped one of the sleeves into it, the white pain arrived on his arm again, and he temporarily halted. Delicately, Ren adjusted the coat to be more careful.

Once more, he stared into the mirror. Along with his dark jeans and brown boots, this was a pretty good outfit for the winter, even if it was ending soon.

After a good and long look, he flipped the folds of the collar up and down to see which suited him better, to which he preferred it down. Akechi entered his presence once again from behind as he turned around, and her hands gradually rose up to touch the collar again.

She straightened it up, and lightly brushed her soft hands along the ridges of Ren’s shoulders. A small shiver was sent up Ren’s spine, not out of fear, but of curiosity.

“Better,” Akechi whispered lowly, looking at Ren’s visage when she finished. “I still think you should’ve chosen a different color.”

“The sweater, or the coat?” Ren asked. She didn’t respond, only smirking back at him as she sat back down, groaning a little as she did.

“Next.” Akechi commented, taking from the to-be-tried-out pile. Whilst she was rummaging, picking out something, Ren took off the coat and hung it on one of the tiny nooks on the side. When Akechi finished, she held out an off-white v-neck sweater for him.

Ren took off the turtleneck, folding it neatly and placing it on a separate pile, and took the sweater. Whilst he remained shirtless for the time being, Ren rolled his index finger over his bandaged wound - still no blood, dull ache, everything would be fine.

He slipped the sweater over him, letting the hems fall naturally as soon as he got his head past the neck line. He patted the material and circled around himself, making sure it wasn’t too loose.

Instinctively by now, he turned over to Akechi, who sat in silence at it. She took some time, observing him whilst planting her finger over her own lips. Her eyes glided back and forth between the next piece of clothing, and eventually she passed a black blazer to him, wordlessly.

Nothing at all. Alright, then.

Ren took the blazer and put it on, straightening up the collar on his own and rolling the sleeves where it needed to be, although it was a small struggle with the wrists being perhaps a little too long for his liking.

Ren’s attention pulled back to her as she stared, rather longingly at him. “Are you…expecting something?” Akechi said, forcing a laugh.

“A comment? Anything at all?” Ren shrugged.

She shrugged back at him. “Dear, you said this was men’s clothing. My expertise lies somewhere else.”

“Yeah, but…” He extended his hand out at her, “do you like it?”

There was a silence then as Akechi tilted her head up. In that silence, he managed to hear her rasping breath before she took in a deep one. “You…look…” she exhaled softly then, the last bits of her sigh sounding like wheezing. “Good.”

He smiled then, nodding in approval. He’d never really thought much about what he wore, but if it was playing at her game - anything goes.

By the end of it, when they got to the sole cashier who was working the machine, she wasn't even occupied with keeping a sharp eye on the store. Instead, they were glued to their phone. When they lined up, clothes in hand, the girl at the cashier blinked a few times.

Her eyes glossed over Akechi, still hiding behind her surgical mask and glasses. Even still, they could see some facade of bruises underneath. For the moment, the cashier remained professional. “Hello!” she greeted, lightly bowing. She saw all the clothes in Ren’s hands, reaching out to grab a hold of them. Afterwards, Akechi leaned closely into Ren as they once again began their little…routine, of sorts.

He leaned in close to her ear, whispering, “Are you paying or should I?”, to which Akechi lightly nudged him, and she pulled out something from her pant pockets - her wallet.

While the cashier was busy scanning, there was a certain part of indecision about what they should be addressing, and both Ren and Akechi could feel it. Sure enough - as retail cashiers do - the girl stopped, lowering the scanner. “I-I’m really sorry, are you doing okay, miss?”

Even if people couldn’t see it, Akechi only softly smiled past that mask. It didn’t harm the cashier, so she once again pulled it down to her chin. She chuckled with her eyes closed. “He’s…he’s a good person. Helped me out of this jam I’m in. You should see the other guy,” Akechi said, trying her best to sound louder than normal. It was still raspy, but it didn’t seem like the cashier minded. She ended up rolling her hand over Ren’s sleeve, almost signaling the cashier to look at his wounded arm.

The girl smiled then back at Akechi, nodding. “Right, well, you two do make a cute couple…i-if that’s uh, your new thing, of course!” She nervously chuckled. Before long, Akechi handed her a credit card Ren didn’t even notice her pull out from the wallet.

Per the norm, the cashier took the card and entered some key information inside the computer next to her. She cross-referenced the card several times before getting the info right. “Do you have a rewards program with us, Miss…Hazama?”

…Hazama? Her name’s Hazama?

Ren’s eyes shot over to Akechi, who wasn’t paying attention to him. Now he was confused - was it Akechi, or was that a pseudonym she was using? 

Akechi nodded. “Goromi Hazama,” she repeated. “I should have one.”

The cashier hummed, checking the computer screen closely. She clicked her tongue before handing the card back. “Weird, I don’t see you in our system for some reason…”

Akechi could only lightly hum back and smack her lips, putting her card into the wallet again. “This always happens. I’ll sort it out online. Maybe next time I can get those points,” she said, almost chopping the air in apologies. “It’s okay. I promise.”

“You’re certain?” The cashier asked politely, holding onto the bagged clothes. Akechi nodded, giving her best smile without saying anything else. The bag was hers after, and she gave it to Ren. They both waved at the cashier and said their goodbyes then and there.

When they got back into the elevator down to the ground floor, Ren pressed the lowest button he could find as the elevator closed. As it idled before shutting the door, he looked at her.

“So…Goromi Hazama, eh?” He said, chuckling. “That’s a name, alright.”

“Please,” Akechi rolled her eyes, tugging her mask slightly. “As with every falsehood, they are meant to be forgotten. That is the point.”

“And Akechi is…” He trailed off, tightening his grip on the bag a little. Suddenly, he felt an embrace roll back over to his good arm. 

Akechi’s soft presence pressed into him closer as she whispered into his ear once again. “Curious, how you remember mine...”  She backed down then, her eyes glancing over at him from above, giggling. “You sure know how to please your own wife, Renren…”

She pulled up her mask afterwards, clinging onto Ren a little further. The elevator doors shut as they descended back down to the ground floor. It was a short ride, and perhaps an even shorter clothes shopping session than Ren had realized - albeit they still had more stores to go through.

She tugged at his sleeve, once more whispering low to him once they were both outside and heading over to the next store. “Goromi is not my name, either.”

Ren turned back to her, whispering back to her ear. “Should I start making up alibis and go by other names, then?” He chuckled. Before long, he felt a light punch on good arm. His next stop came to be for new jeans. One could not do with only a single pair of jeans, that is to be sure, and at the very least Akechi was offering to pay. Although, at what price that may be, remained to be seen.

By the time they finished grabbing enough for Ren to wear at least for five separate days of the week, it was already lunch time. They went back to the house for a bit, if only to unload Ren’s clothes and a bit of a breather.

Back in the kitchen, Akechi grabbed a bottle of water inside the fridge and took a good sip out of it, as Ren got into his new clothes - black blazer, off-white v-neck shirt, dark blue jeans, brown chukka boots. The only thing missing from him were the standard fare of his glasses frames, of which, he thought Akechi looked better in for today.

“So I was thinking,” Ren began, hovering over her figure when she was sitting down on the stool. He tapped his fingers on the countertop, hesitating on the thought before coming out with it. “Did you wanna get some sushi?”

She didn’t answer right away. Perhaps by instinct, she offered him her bottle of water, only for her to realize what she was doing and pulled the bottle back, downing a rather generous volume by her lonesome. Akechi’s eyes gazed over, meeting Ren’s once again. They remained soft, yet assessing, amused. Eventually, she rolled the cap on the bottle back and set it down.

“I believe it’d be your turn to pay.” Akechi said finally, her voice still hoarse, but lighter.

Ren couldn’t help but nod and feel a smile creeping at the corners. “Of course. Some salmon sashimi would do you good, I bet.”

Akechi pointed back at him. “I’m more in the mood for fatty tuna today, if you can believe it. After all, you did suffer too.”

“My wallet’s crying,” Ren joked back. “But...that’s not a bad option either.”

Over time, Ren set his old clothes aside on the living room couches and the bag of clothes for later. Maybe if he had time he could go to some clothing repair shop and get his old stuff stitched back together.

All the same, once they sorted out all of their necessities for returning back home - Akechi resting and Ren rehydrating himself, they made it back down to the elevator together. Her footsteps were quieter then - a sign of strength in restraint.

In truth she likely shouldn’t even be moving with all of her bruises, yet she persisted nevertheless. As morbid as it sounded - Ren grew concerned for her wellbeing. He already knew how hard this must’ve been, having been at the brunt of being broken and bruised like she was. All the same, he was only doing her a service.

Once they got back down to the elevator and got to the train station, several new posters were applied around the walls. They were all political campaign advertisements, perhaps far too early to be set up as is. Everywhere they went, closer and closer to the train platform, individual posters plastered the wall.

In particular, Akechi stopped in her tracks, fixated on one poster, whilst Ren went ahead, unaware. When he turned around, realizing then that there wasn’t a soft presence behind him, Ren went back to where she was and stared at the posters as well.

The one she stopped at in particular was one for Masayoshi Shido. Ren scanned the rest of the walls - this one seemed to be dedicated entirely to that man. Then, his gaze scanned over Akechi.

There was something off about the way she was viewing Shido. What he thought he knew of Akechi and her actions - none of it seemed to line up with what he was seeing from her in this very moment. He couldn’t quite pinpoint her motives, or thoughts. He put a hand on her shoulder, coming closer to her presence now. “What’s the matter?” Ren softly asked.

In time, Akechi turned away from the wall of posters. “Nothing,” she said, beginning her walk towards the platform again. She held onto Ren again once they got to the platform and sat down. “Where did you say this sushi place was…?”

Chapter Text

“Nothing
in the world
is usual today.
This is
the first morning.”
- Izumi Shikibu

February 22nd, 20XX
Afternoon
Sushi Lab, Shibuya

The train ride this time around was a bit more unexpected than the prior commute in the morning. There were seats for this, a kind reprieve of having to stand up, for Akechi’s sake. Even the trek down back to the station seemed to wear her out more than usual.

When the train steadily trudged along. It’d only be a ten minute ride, but it surely beat the half an hour walk they’d have to do otherwise. When Ren sat downwith Akechi, he wasn’t quite sure what to think, especially after that small escapade with the posters on the wall.

Right now, there wasn’t much time to think about it - they could do with a bite to eat, and afterwards they still had grocery shopping to complete before the day ended.

When they got off the train, it was still another ten minute walk to their designated sushi restaurant, and this was often the part Ren always had trouble figuring out where this place was, between a bar and a coffee shop, past towering skyscrapers and far from their usual Shibuya Crossing junction.

At the end of it all, Ren managed to make his way there, with Akechi following along. The bustle of the city overshadowed everything else until the ambience subsided, somewhere between the small alcoves of what was seen, the restaurant entrance was tucked away in a quiet little corner behind white curtains. When they entered, they took a seat deeper inside.

Akechi peered around, observing her environment, as did Ren. He noted the quiet piano music played with dimmer lights than normal, feeling like the restaurant was already at night-time despite it being only the afternoon, and for all the atmosphere, it also sustained a luxurious feeling.

“Interesting place,” Akechi croaked out, breaking the silence. Ren turned his focus over to her. “I have not been here before.”

Ren curled his lips into a smile as he scratched his head. “To be honest, neither have I.”

“Oh?” Akechi chimed, leaning forward into her seat and laying her hand on her cheek. “Just for me, then…?” She teased.

“Recommendation from work. Never had a chance to come.” Ren shrugged. “Good time as any.”

“I should be honored,” Akechi replied. Her eyes darted over to the waitress, who only just came in to greet them.

“Ah, hello!” The waitress said, bowing courteously. Her attire was in a teal blue kimono with a wave-like pattern. “For two?”

They both nodded, although most of the attention went to Akechi again. Though the waitress didn’t say anything, it was pretty apparent most of her hesitation went to the bruises, even past the mask and glasses. Regardless, the waitress ended up taking menus for both of them. They settled in the 6,600 yen omakase - and a quieter experience alongside some cool sake. No need for any special infographics, they were there for a meal.

For a while, they sat in the quiet as the music shifted over to another track. Once the chef came out, they were presented with a small cup of what looked like mushroom soup as a starter, and a warmup. Even through his professional attire, the chef looked fairly young, possibly as old as the both of them were. Not that they minded, anyway.

They were presented with one of the finer sakes from the menu - Kudoki Jozu Junmai Ginjo. Better known as, ‘The Pick-Up Artist’. For all intents and purposes, as soon as Ren laid eyes on the bottle, he rolled his eyes at how tacky it sounded.

Ren sampled a small amount of it with a chirirenge spoon, only to find out it was less an actual soup and more like a royale, still with some liquid but more akin to a small custard cup. He carved a small piece of it out and sampled it. Rich with umami and of course, rich flavor profiles, he hummed in approval as Akechi already finished hers.

Whilst the chef was delicately cutting a portion of fish meat next, Akechi looked more attuned to his technique than the actual fish at hand. Next up came 6-day aged yellowtail sashimi, two generously thick cuts - one from the back part, one from the belly. With chopsticks in hand, Ren savored his, having a rich and buttery mouthfeel as he chewed.

I’m gonna have to tell Akihiko at some point that this place is great already.

A part of his thoughts were disrupted when Akechi choked from her wasabi, likely irritating her throat more than it being too spicy. Immediately, she downed a part of her cold sake, cough receding gradually. Ren reached out to ensure the cup wouldn’t spill, having an extra hand on it.

“You alright?” Ren asked. It often seemed like he was asking this over and over, and Akechi only softly beat her chest and nodded.

“Let’s perhaps forgo the wasabi…” She giggled, residual coughing lingering. She raised her hand as the chef came over. “No wasabi for mine going forward, please.”

He nodded then and got back to work, Akechi taking another sip from her flat cup. She took a relieved sigh not too long afterwards, then gazed over at Ren. Swiftly, Akechi took the larger cup of pre-poured sake.

For someone whose entire skill set seemed to be that of the brutal killing kind, Akechi had a fundamentally solid etiquette to pouring sake into the flat cup.

“Drink with me,” Akechi whispered softly. “I am not finishing this bottle alone.”

Raising his eyebrow, Ren only raised an index finger, denoting one cup. That’d be it for him. He politely took the cup from her possession, sliding it over to his side of the countertop. In exchange and - as is customary - Ren did the same for her. 

His pouring game…frankly was not the greatest, yet all the same, it filled Akechi’s cup again. He’d drunk something other than sake in his life, and it was always served, never poured for his pleasure.

“Cheers,” Akechi whispered, raising her cup.

“Cheers,” Ren repeated, doing the same. 

They each both took one small sip, then another, before finishing it cleanly down with one gulp, and unlike the whiskey, this one didn’t burn on the way down. It had hints of green apple, yet it was sweeter and fruitier, as well as properly chilled to perfection, amazingly paired with sushi.

Next came a bit of a surprise - simmered daikon radish with a cut of fried tofu in soup. Without a second thought, both of them enjoyed it, a fair contrast against their cold alcohol.

So many courses, and frankly all the time in the world for today for both Ren and Akechi. Flounder nigiri, minced tuna and zha chi sushi, bonito, hamachi, scallops with seaweed, herring roe in kelp, pumpkin soup, sea bream, smoked mackerel, seabass…

All whilst indulging in sake. More or less, Ren observed how Akechi drank hers more than anything whilst they ate their portions in silence. He must’ve lost count somewhere between the 15th piece of sushi. At this stage it was already heavenly quality for half the actual price he’d find at Ginza.

By the time the chef served them a lean cut of akami sushi, beautifully plated and cut above a solid bed of sushi rice. With the use of his chopsticks, he thoroughly chewed on the piece of fish, the explosion of texture and flavors hitting his mouth.

He peered over to Akechi, who seemed to be having the time of her life as well. One thing he perhaps did not notice, or it might’ve been a sleight of hand trick in his mind, was the fact that every so often, depending on how deliciously receptive she was, she’d use her chopsticks between her left and right.

For this one, she used her left hand and slowly chewed, ensuring not to strain her otherwise swollen cheek.

“...Are you left-handed?” Ren asked, once Akechi swallowed the piece. Her gaze flew back over to him as her brown eyes found their way to him. Much like how he became quite used to seeing her this way, they remained soft.

“My,” Akechi cooed, “I didn’t think you’d noticed.” She grinned and nodded. Swapping over her chopsticks from left to right, clicking them. “I am quite dextrous with both, but my left is my dominant one.”

Rapidly, the chopsticks swapped hands again back to her left. “I do it so subconsciously these days that it has become no effort at all.”

Now that Ren thought back to it - every occasion he saw Akechi with, he never paid much attention to the fact she was left-handed. Even the time he almost died if she slit his throat, it was left-handed. Most of her bat swings were left-adjacent. How he connected this with her using her left-hand for chopstick use…is now beyond him.

Without another breath, the next piece arrived - stepping up from the flavorful lean tuna came the fish Akechi was waiting for the entire time they were here, its marbling and cut immaculate atop the rice it was upon. Fatty tuna, in all of its glory - buttery smooth and airy to the point of melting in their mouths.

For this instance, Ren hesitated, watching Akechi take the time to eat her portion. Instead of doing the same, he instead clamped onto the piece, and then placed it squarely on Akechi’s plate. In the midst of her eating the rice, her gaze shot back to him.

“You wanted it,” Ren commented. “We can order more after.”

“It’d be uncouth,” Akechi replied, clamping onto the piece. Now she was hesitant, attention flicking back and forth between him and the sushi. “I suppose then, it’s more out of your pocket.”

The piece flew in Akechi’s mouth in mere moments. This time, she let out a satisfied moan at the second helping. “However did I land such a gentleman as you, dear…?”

No real time to stop, the next piece already came. As part of the delicious omakase tradition this restaurant had, one of the biggest standouts was their signature sake-steamed abalone. Ren checked the sake bottle - close to being empty. Unlike his actual promise, he drank more than just one cup. Three, at best, and spaced out.

Only abalone was inside, and both of them quickly ate it before a small portion of sushi rice dropped onto the bowl - and suddenly, they were now served sake-infused rice risotto.

By the end of it, their tail-end of their sushi experience ended up being tamago, conger eel, sea urchin, kanpyo, and miso soup made with fish broth, all of which were divine. Despite all of that, they were still left a little hungry for more after their dessert of sesame mochi came along, its bouncy texture and sweet taste wiping their palettes down cleanly.

Akechi slightly raised her hand up after the chef bowed and waited. He went over to her as she wet her lips, putting her hand down. “Can we get more of that bluefin fatty tuna, perhaps as sashimi instead?”

Once again, as per usual, the chef nodded. Akechi raised her hand up again, preventing him from departing.

“Can you make it so that it's checked separately?” She said with a polite smile across her bruised face. She held out her hand, indicating five pieces of sashimi were requested.

Ren leaned in over to her. “I thought I was paying for the whole thing?” He asked inquisitively, to which she said nothing again as the chef left to go grab the fatty tuna again.

Guess my wallet’s not gonna be as light as I thought, Ren told himself. Stupid thought, honestly.

Regardless, once the last bits of sashimi arrived, the chef placed it on a special plate shared between the two of them. Before he could even get his chopsticks, Akechi beat him to the punch.

“Are we getting greedy?” Ren smirked, picking up the next piece instead. Just as soon as he did so, Akechi smacked the piece out from his grip with her dexterity.

“No,” she remarked, eyes sharpening over a piece of fish more than anything. She smirked back in retaliation as she hovered it around her own chopsticks. “Open wide.”

“What?” Ren asked. The chopsticks were getting closer. When they hovered close to his lips, he was hesitant…until he obeyed, slightly opening his mouth and she stuck it in, then retracted her chopsticks.

He chewed, perhaps a little too slowly, maintaining eye contact with Akechi. She hummed, tilting her head. “...Was that so hard before?”

Ren slightly shook his head, then swallowed. Before long, Akechi already scooped up the next bite and ate that one, then the next one, and the next one, and Ren did nothing to stop it. He instead let her be, folding his chopsticks together and setting it perfectly symmetrical to the plate. Either way, he was satisfied.

Until of course, the presence of her chopsticks invaded his space once again. The last tidbit of fatty tuna remained available to him. Ren recoiled at the sight, until he realized what it was, and came back to eat the last piece willingly. When he did so, he saw the quiet smile of Akechi before him.

“You know,” Ren spoke, halfway through chewing, “There’s this other spot in Roppongi Hills I wanted to visit,” he swallowed once again, “if I can save enough we could go again?”

Akechi sighed and folded her chopsticks in, downing the last bit of sake in the process. “Already deciding for the future, I see.”

Ren, pulling out his wallet, handed his card over to the chef. “Just a thought,” he said.

She pulled out her card as well, giving it to the chef. He departed into the background. Over at the entrance, a small group had arrived, just in time for the both of them to finish up, with the chef giving them separate receipts and their cards back. They departed the restaurant afterwards.

February 22nd, 20XX
Late Afternoon
Life Higashi, Shibuya

After the departure, past the crossing once again, and another ten minute walk, they arrived over at a grocery store. Akechi, surprisingly, remained steady with her pace despite consuming sake and a copious amount of sushi.

By the time they both got inside, they were met with an escalator going upwards to where the actual supermarket would be. The ground floor was primarily a staging area for a garage. Once they turned the corner, the main entrance was before them, blaring upbeat J-pop music as they entered.

The place was crowded, a stark contrast to their previously quiet dining experience, and overly bright with fluorescent lights. No matter where Ren went, it always seemed to return to these blinding lights. When they got in, Ren pulled out his phone, and hovered over a grocery list he compiled, taking a shopping cart with him. Akechi stayed closely behind him, hands in her hoodie pockets.

First - curry. Most of the ingredients were in seasoning and vegetables. From the produce aisle, Ren placed several bags containing onion, carrots, apples, and garlic. By the time he slid the garlic cloves into a bag, Akechi examined all of them.

“Must you acquire so many?” She asked quietly.

Ren smiled back, moving the shopping cart along. “You’ve never tried curry like this, trust me.”

“Nothing wrong with making basic simplicities,” Akechi remarked, moving along. “I suppose I can take your word for it, however…”

Next, stocks and oils. Ren was entirely certain the oil used at home was olive oil, and most of what he needed required vegetable oil instead. Per the recipe he was given, courtesy of Leblanc and being a family friend, they recommended beef stock with Worcestershire sauce. Whilst he was checking the list, Akechi peered right behind him, very quickly glancing over the list. Once he set down his phone temporarily, he reached out for a bag of flour.

He didn’t touch the bag. Instead, his hand quietly brushed over Akechi’s, who was doing the exact same thing he did. The warmth of her skin made contact with his palm, and Ren almost pulled back immediately, with Akechi lingering slightly before taking the bag of flour to the cart.

Neither of them dared take a gaze towards each other for too long after that small incident, not when it felt…different.

Ren only ever gazed over when she wasn’t looking, and he was for certain vice versa applied - any time he searched for ingredients on another aisle, Akechi was peering at his presence in frame.

And even if at some point their eyes connected, it would only be briefly before they glossed something else. The cart moved along the aisles they headed down, yet they hovered around that moment.

That didn’t happen, Ren mouthed and thought to himself. 

Akechi was over on the other end grabbing a container of honey, but the placement was so high up, and he didn’t quite want her to struggle with her bruised body. From across the aisle, he observed her, slowly raising her hand above her shoulders, only to look like she was wincing and fail to grab it nevertheless.

Ren approached her from behind, now being the one who had to pick the jar. He reached above her, careful with the arm he could freely use well enough and, with very minimal effort, took the jar from behind her. Akechi backed up into him, both of their bodies bumping into each other by accident.

He didn’t move, and neither did she. They breathed, and for one moment - just one very brief moment, between them and a jar of honey, there was a reprieve of peace shared between the two of them. Akechi turned around now, raising an eyebrow. 

“Sorry,” Ren apologized, nervously smiling. 

He handed her the jar, and she reluctantly took it with both of her hands, steadying her posture to make sure she wouldn’t drop it.

“...What are you apologizing for?” Akechi said back, before heading back to the cart.

He pursed his lips, putting both of his hands in his pockets instead. Ren followed Akechi behind not too long afterwards. The seasoning aisle fared much better for them as they managed to find everything just fine.

On the way to the meat aisle, Ren took a small detour out as Akechi moved the cart down to their main destination. He found packets of matcha tea around, and took a box with him on the way back. They needed a refill, and for what it’d be worth…Akechi seemed like she’d enjoy matcha tea. With his other hand, he found a couple of bags of coffee beans that were the correct brand that Café Leblanc used. The only thing Life didn’t sell was a proper machine.

When he stuffed it into the cart, he went looking for premium cuts of beef with her. Whilst she was scanning, he stood next to her…perhaps a little too closely. When she leaned in, so did he. Their shoulders brushed up against each other more often than not, and even when it was applying small pressure to his arm wound, Ren found he cared very little about that.

With a suitable cut in mind, Ren reached out - and now, this time, his hand found itself brushed over by Akechi’s. The same thing occurred once more, and now Ren wasn’t sure if this was by accident. Quickly, out of the corner of his eye, he glanced over to Akechi, and found a split second where her eyes turned away.

He exhaled, almost forcing a laugh before rolling his eyes.

What the hell am I doing?

It was such a foolish thought, having his hand idling at a meat packet for too long. He already felt a small tug upwards as Akechi brought it back up, and still - even now - they refused to acknowledge what happened. When things settled back down, they moved on, although for Akechi, she ended up taking it slower.

Little did she know, Ren was hearing her rasp again. He cleared his throat and smacked his lips. “...Akechi?” He called out.

She hummed, turning back around to face him, the handle of the cart behind her back. An awkward silence permeated the air amidst the hum of the refrigeration units. He got closer to her, once again almost a little too close. “How’re you holding up?”

She let out an elongated sigh before exhaling. The shrill whistle of her inhalation brought him concern, although if he brought it up she’d probably handily beat him up. “As well as I can be. How much more do you intend to purchase…?” her voice turned hoarse again.

“Well…I can possibly take over the rest of my necessities,” Ren replied, holding onto the cart handles. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Akechi giggled again, slowly gliding her hands on Ren’s arms. “I’m having an enjoyable time…you needn’t worry.”

They got closer again, Ren smiling. “We’ll go home soon, then.”

He wanted to push the cart out a little, just so they could have space to move around. Unfortunately for Ren, he miscalculated his step as the cart slipped from his hands, and quietly bumped into Akechi again, their bodies pressing up against each other unintentionally.

When they regained their footing, Akechi could not help but snicker. “Darling, you’re too eager…please watch where you’re going,” she said, stepping out of Ren’s range. “You don’t want to hurt me, do you?”

He sighed and nodded. “Sorry,” he spoke, scratching his head in embarrassment, “Again,” he repeated, brushing his v-neck and blazer. Wettening his lips, he held onto the shopping cart. “Let’s get going.”

They entered the aisle for wine, and although they weren’t here for alcohol, Ren still needed red wine for the curry. Any would do, it wasn’t particularly enough or with any taste to matter specifically. Partially, when Ren reached out to grab a bottle, he half-expected Akechi to follow up again. She didn’t, only lingering around the cart instead.

“Are you taking me out to dinner too…?” She teased, grinning through her mask. “How adorable.”

By the end of it all, their shopping cart was filled with so, so many ingredients and other essentials that could last Ren two weeks before he’d have to go out and do this routine again. At the end, at checkout, once again Akechi paid for everything with her card, and with however many bags they could carry together.

Back at Shibuya Station, police activity unexpectedly spiked due to political dissent already from how many posters were put up. Some were already vandalized, others remained revered. For the police, it was already a busy day trying to maintain order. Nobody paid Ren and Akechi any attention - in fact, some of them didn’t even recognize Detective Amamiya without his glasses on. He moved along quietly.

When they boarded the train once again, it was empty for their cab. Akechi took her seat. She tossed the bags of groceries onto empty seats, and Ren sat across from her. “Tired?” he asked, and she nodded.

“I’m going to rest when we’re back,” she croaked, groaning like she was half-asleep already, eyes closed. She cautiously held back another wince from her bruises after her arm hit the seat the wrong way.

The ride back didn’t feel like ten minutes, it felt like it stretched on for much longer than anticipated. The walk back to Meguro ward wasn’t all that exciting either. When they got back up to the hidden entrance, Akechi stepped into the elevator. It was there she dropped both her bags and raised her hand up, preventing him from going in.

Ren stopped in his tracks and tilted his head. She took his bags and plopped them down in the elevator as well. With slick movement, she scanned the keycard and typed in the password, then held the door. “From your list, you still need a coffee machine.” 

He wanted to at least get in the elevator before continuing the discussion, but she truly had no intention of letting him inside yet. “I expect you to return before I wake up.” She extended her hand out, keycard in between her index and middle finger.

Reluctantly, he took it from her hands and the elevator doors shut on him. Back to real life he went on the last leg of the journey to secure coffee beans for the night and a coffee machine.

It didn’t take long for him to find a secondhand and barely used coffee syphoned machine, and one that would’ve been the type he needed. If this were an easier life, Ren would’ve bought a bean-to-cup machine, yet those would’ve set him back even further than the future Roppongi Hills trip, although he traveled to several secondhand shops to find one. His old coffee machine - now a pile of ash somewhere - wasn’t exactly a model to be found on the market anymore.

When he did make it home on another train back, Ren fetched the keycard out of his pocket first, carefully balancing the heft of the machine with his own weight. When he slipped the card in, typing in the keypad the correct sequence, he ascended back to the 11th floor.

It was only evening, yet still more work to be done. It’d be a disservice for Akechi to be taken out to dinner, and it’d be pretty bad if she ate protein bars or something completely unsatisfying to him for tonight. Thus, when the elevator opened back up and he returned to the safehouse, Ren put the machine on the countertop immediately, having taken it out from its container.

He plugged in, and got to work. Curry would take almost two additional hours if he left it idle.

All the produce became washed and grated accordingly. Onions were peeled and diced up, the cut of beef was devoid of fat and sliced into squared cubes as best as Ren could, using a different knife from his old one in the kitchen. It just didn’t it right that he’d be using a knife to make something with heart, all whilst taking away three others’ beating ones in the past.

Onions became mixed inside of a pan already slickened with vegetable oil and ready to go over low heat. Every now and then, Ren stirred and watched as the onions turned a shade of golden brown. When it was time, he added in minced garlic cloves, grated carrot and ginger, and apples into the mix - then set it aside to ensure it didn’t caramelize.

Over on another pan he found in the kitchen, Ren slowly cooked the cuts of beef simultaneously. So long as they browned, it didn’t matter if they were too rare, then set that aside as well. When it came time, he added in the spice mix with flour, cumin, coriander, cardamom, turmeric, cinnamon, nutmeg…the entire works, until the pan was coated and golden.

When it came time, he added the onions and beef together, alongside beef stock, red wine, and the bay leaf they both acquired. On the side, some plain yogurt, honey, worcestershire sauce, and chocolate were for later. In the biggest pan Ren could find, the curry effectively turned into stew at this point. All he had to do was let it simmer with a lid, and stir occasionally.

Come time, Ren stretched his body and called it a success - only for his arm to deliver a sharp cut of pain again to remind him he wasn’t fully recovered, even now. He’d almost forgotten. He took off his blazer and v-neck, placing it over across the headrest of the barstool, and undid his bandage.

Much to be expected, the bandage was already a little rank from absorbing whatever blood would’ve been collecting for today, and he’d have to clean up the wound to ensure it wouldn’t get infected. With about an hour and a half to spare, he saw no reason not to. 

Heading upstairs, he found that Akechi’s bedroom door was once again left ajar. Quietly, he approached her room, slowly sliding the door open. He found her rasping, although she was at an otherwise peaceful rest with her curtains still drawn. The sun  only had so much to go before it’d set, and he took the time to finally survey what was around here.

Over in the corner, he saw a placard for Tokyo University, honoring one Goromi Hazama for outstanding performance in her studies. He got closer to it, ensuring he wouldn’t wake up Akechi in the process of doing it. He observed the placard, and sure enough, it was legitimate. He crept into her bathroom, and found some proper medical iodine to help out with his wound.

Goromi Hazama. I guess that’s how the world sees you, Akechi.

Ren softly hummed, heading back out and into his own bedroom. From there, he did his usual routines - cleaning himself before a short soak in the bath. He cleaned the wound properly, yet it still had a faint smell of whiskey from the night prior. Regardless, he got it bandaged and wrapped up as he slipped into something comfier for the night - running naked downstairs and into some clean pajamas they purchased in the morning.

When Ren checked back on the pot of curry, it was simmering nicely. He stirred it a little, giving it a taste - incredibly mild spices, so as to not irritate Akechi’s bruises and swollen internal parts. What made the curry special was the fact it did not focus on any of the traditional curry flavors. Instead, what was presented in the curry was, in fact, a fruity and down-to-earth flavor. Were this actually traditional, it wouldn’t be sweet and tangy. 

It still needed time, parts of the spices remained coated on his teeth in the process. He brought out the rice cooker. After scooping two cups, he started using it to get ready for dinner already. Perhaps once the rice was done, he’d make the both of them some coffee for the night.

Even then, Ren still had time to sit down and rest. Most of his day was spent not even relaxing, yet it didn’t seem to bother him so much.

He checked around for a clock, it was already around 6:00 PM. 

Today was…enjoyable, as Akechi said to him. He couldn’t help but smile at that as he sat down on the couch and turned on the television.

Immediately, the channel was blaring national news about today’s Shibuya Station incident. The vandalization seemed to have come from an unknown source of criminals who were meant to deface political opponents, and one of the posters that remained untouched…just so happened to belong to Masayoshi Shido. When reaching out for a comment, the politician made a grand interview through the network.

“Why, of course the people of Japan see corruption wherever they go. It has become such a commonplace activity that even the youths are becoming aware of the problem,” Shido spoke, rather eloquently in the interview. Strangely, the way he inflected his words felt familiar. Ren listened intently to his words, leaning his arm on the couch. “It is precisely why I have opted to campaign significantly earlier to appeal to the masses.”

Shido, from across the television, grabbed onto a glass of water on the table. His eyes narrowed when he saw the act, tuning out the rest of the interview.

Am I…hallucinating? What the hell?

The way Shido drank from his glass of water was somewhat reminiscent of the way he saw Akechi drink her sake in the morning, or perhaps even a shadow of that was within her. Same hand, same angled tip, even the way they sat felt rather similar. But even that didn’t really feel plausible, and way too coincidental.

Nah. That’s like saying I could be related to Futaba by the way we love curry. Anybody could look like they’re related, even unintentionally.

Ren let the thought perish. He didn’t want to do politics all night, which wouldn't be good for his health. He swapped over to some game show at some point, featuring several athletes trying to compete against each other in more convoluted obstacle courses. Every now and then he’d get up and stir the pot, and when he did, the curry was all the closer to finishing. 

The scent of the kitchen felt very close to Leblanc’s in nature - scent of curry, and two cups of coffee already getting made in the machine. Around the fourth time Ren stood up to stir the pot with the last bit of ingredients added inside, he saw a figure come down from the staircase. Akechi stretched her arms as best as she could before closing her arms back together from the pain, and she turned over to where Ren was in the kitchen.

“You’re awake,” Ren commented, smiling, “just in time.”

She croaked a little, taking a seat at the barstool. “I see you’ve been busy ever since.”

He pulled out a large plate from one of the shelves and scooped up a generous helping of white rice, then a ladle. Carefully, he plated the curry for Akechi’s consumption as best as he could, rice half intact with the curry half split evenly in two. Ren quietly jammed a spoon on the rice half, and smoothly slid the meal over to her.

As for the coffee, he prepared Hawaiian Kona beans for tonight’s associated drink, and this wasn’t even the expensive brands that could be found handily. With the syphoned coffee machine, it was close enough to a drip method, emulating what he could. With one cup already hot and ready in hand, Ren also slid the cup over to Akechi.

With a smile, Ren courteously bowed. “Try it,” he said, only to turn around. He didn’t have time to see if she was eating it already. Ren helped himself to filling out another plate, and getting himself some extra beef inside. Moments later, when he turned back around, he was already witnessing Akechi helping herself.

She chewed, in particular very slowly. Whilst Ren took a seat next to her again, he was caught off-guard by how silent she was in eating it, yet also how suspiciously quick it was being devoured. He didn’t want to gloat but…

Fuck it, let’s gloat.

He turned over to her. “So much for food being food, right?”

Akechi shot him with a bit of a side-eye when she halted her eating. She pursed her lips, taking a hold of the mug of coffee and taking a small sip. After a deliberate pause, she hummed. “Delicious…”

Best compliment he could get. Ren softly smiled and nodded as he dug into his own plate.

Come sundown, Akechi and Ren finished their meal at a relatively rapid pace. Most of the occasion turned out to be one in quiet, simply because Akechi only woke up, and it was pretty apparent from Ren’s perspective she didn’t really want to say anything to him about his cooking. How could she, even, especially after what Ren was told this morning?

At any rate, the coffee wasn’t going to keep him awake for long. Even caffeine had its limits in helping someone stay awake. It was meant to end the meal on a warm, satisfactory note, nothing more, nothing less.

Ren checked the time again, only on his phone now. Normally he wouldn’t want to go to bed until much later, but given he only slept for a short while and today’s sprawling action and trips already put a dampener on his reserves as is. By the time he stood up, Akechi was already grabbing the two plates from the countertops.

“I’m…off to bed,” Ren proclaimed, yawning halfway. “I do have work tomorrow.”

Akechi stalled temporarily, placing the plates in the sink. She turned to face him. “I won’t keep you.”

With one last nod, Ren turned and marched upstairs. Almost to the top, he felt compelled to turn around.

Strange as it was, he saw Akechi quietly hovering around the stove where the leftover curry in the pot was. From where he stood, it looked like she was rolling her fingers across where he was cooking. Just when it seemed like she was being watched, Akechi turned around to face Ren again, this time with a bright smile.

And from where he stood, before Ren turned away, he could see Akechi’s eye color be a shade of crimson again.

Chapter Text

“Man is not what he thinks he is, he is what he hides.” - André Malraux

March 7th, 20XX
Evening
Ren and Akechi’s Safehouse

Two weeks passed by quicker than Ren thought it would. Work was work, more often than not getting sidelined for anything else pertaining to other crimes. Petty thievery, hit and runs, even another potential gang bust coming up for another section of the department.

The backhanded insults never truly stopped, albeit people were now truly unsure if Ren was actively a victim or an accomplice. Lines blurred more than they made sense for the team. Of course, everyone else - Akihiko, Chie, and Makoto - backed him up on it. Especially since a majority of them failed to find and capture the arsonists responsible for Ren’s burned apartment.

In the time spent since that day, Akechi was laying low. Or perhaps, she stopped killing to take care of herself and Ren. And of course, every now and then, Ren would wake up to find his frames stolen and in her bedroom, clearly swiped in the middle of the night - he’d have to snatch them back from her from time to time. The thought of who her political target was never left him, but as long as she was within his sights, that shouldn’t matter too much right now.

Ren quietly entered the elevator after a long day at work, one that rewarded him to come home early. As it hummed, ascending to the safehouse, Ren checked his phone and saw one text message from Makoto he didn’t catch on the train ride home. Bad signal, perhaps, but he read it.

‘Drinks on me tonight? I get off at 9. Crossroads again?’

Without much thought, Ren tapped back, ‘I’ll be there’, and sent the message, sliding the phone back into his pocket. Once the elevator arrived on the 11th floor, Ren stepped into the hallway, everything in the safehouse tuned to utter silence. He looked around to find nobody. Curiously, Akechi was missing.

“Akechi?” He called out. The only response was silence as he scanned his surroundings.

He checked the living room, TV off, no music playing, nothing rearranged. He turned around, and saw ingredients on the countertop left to thaw themselves out. 

Was she making something?

He rubbed his chin, eyes peering over at the ingredients. Ren dropped his backpack on the floor, letting it sag over to the countertop. He lingered, taking note of an empty bowl, a cup of uncooked rice, and the necessary materials to make a katsu donburi.

Not a bad choice. But where’d she go?

He turned around again, hearing the hum of the fridge and the lights. If she was going out somewhere, it’d be pretty late considering the sun was going down. Nevertheless, Ren felt compelled to help her if she’d be due to come back soon.

He got to work - firstly, getting some background noise to play. Ren turned the television on, setting it once again to national news. For all of his work, the one thing the public couldn’t seem to catch up on was, of course, the identity of The Black Mask. By now, he had hoped police would’ve at least come up with more up-to-date information.

Alas, the only bit of news reflecting anything of note was the fact the serial killings mysteriously went cold. It only made sense - Akechi was recovering. Criminals could breathe a sigh of relief for the time being…and so could Ren. And the police force. And the detectives assigned to the case.

Regardless, he began cooking up the rice by washing it through a sieve and allowing it to simmer in a rice cooker, and then cut the green onions and scallions. The longest part was going to be breading all the pork necessary with panko and frying them accordingly. With excess fat cut out, the pork tenderized and seasoned, he mixed together the coating necessary out of eggs, flour, and panko as the oil in a pot began heating up.

She’ll love it, I’m sure.

For a brief moment, while Ren was gathering his thoughts as the oil rose in temperatures, he stood back.

“Cooking for a killer? Nah, cooking for a girl…” He grinned at the thought. That’ll do it.

Katsudon or a simple donburi? Ren checked around. He realized there were no eggs to simmer with the onions for a katsudon. He figured it might be a good idea to help bring them out if that’s what she wanted. Shuffling, he headed over to the kitchen and pulled out a carton.

Ren barely had time to register the heat of the moment. He felt a distinctive chill in the air, and suddenly, a kiss of cold steel met with his throat from behind. He didn’t flinch then at that - what gave him a shiver rolling up his spine was the warmth of her body pressing up against him from behind.

“Making dinner without me…?” Her voice hushed out in a rather sultry tone. “And here I thought you wouldn’t be home until later…”

“Akechi,” Ren said, just as the knife slid back out. He didn’t turn around, only feeling her warmth up against him. “There you are.”

She giggled, leaning ever closer in. “Darling…did you forget that I’m recovering and quite capable of making my own meals?”

Ren smirked, forcing a laugh. “I know,” He stepped out of range of her knife, scratching his head, “I couldn’t find you.” He swallowed, turning around then.

In the weeks that Akechi was allowed to rest, her bruises healed unreasonably quickly. By the end of the first week, they were already faint yellow, which felt a bit superhuman in nature from how bad they looked. Still, she had bandages on her face, though they were more subdued and primarily to cover up the worst looking parts.

But that didn’t catch Ren’s attention. Instead, it was what Akechi looked like. In her usual fashion however many times he got to see her, she was still at peace with her human looking eyes and eye color, an earthly, soft amber going up against her brown and black peekaboo dyed hair. 

This time was different, her attire was slightly out of the ordinary. For her usual compression shirt, her sleeves were rolled up, revealing a rather toned set of muscles, and rather than her usual shaggy, neck-length hair, she tied parts of the back in a small ponytail and let the length rest comfortably around the neck area.

Beyond that, something Ren never noticed was the fact she was wearing pearly-white earrings, casually dotting her earlobes. He curled his lips from a smirk into a warm smile.

“Well,” he mused to himself, shuffling, “that’s not something I see everyday,” he said, eyes gazing over Akechi's arms. They, too, had their own set of faint bruises yellowing. “What’s the occasion?”

She realized this and, quickly, put the knife on the countertop before rolling her sleeves down. She scoffed, lightly exhaling. She parted her lips with her tongue briefly, wetting them. “What of it? It’s getting warm again.”

He didn’t stop there, either. Ren pointed out her hair first. “I guess it’s too warm under the back of your neck too?” He chimed in, chuckling. “I never knew you wore earrings either.”

Akechi crossed her arms and leaned back on the countertop. Her eyes briefly glanced over at the tonkatsu being made in the pot, then back at Ren. “I see that you’ve not been observant. I’ve worn these since we’ve met.”

Quietly, Ren parted her hair, examining the earrings some more. Akechi let him, although not without her gaze piercing him. “Well,” Ren said, smacking his lips, taking out the tongs to check the tonkatsu, “It suits you.”

Seeing this, she grabbed the tongs away from Ren and focused on cooking the last bits of it, with Ren only observing. As much as he commanded control of this kitchen, it was still her space as well. As she pulled the cutlets out to check their tenderness, she eyed Ren. “If I had known I would’ve made two.”

“Ah,” Ren lightly tapped the countertop with a few of his fingers. “Right. I’m…not gonna be home for a few hours later tonight.”

She shot a glance over to him, giving a deliberate pause. “Another all-nighter?” She dropped the tongs out into a safer area. “Do I need to find somebody to make it…easier? Or perhaps, should I consider this your dinner for the night?”

“No,” Ren said, putting his hands up. “I’m off for the night. It’s just, I got a few hours to burn here for rest, and I’m off back to Shinjuku with my partner for drinks.”

Akechi slightly raised her head, then tilted it to the side. A slight shift in her gaze gave Ren a sense of unease - although it could’ve easily been a flicker of the light. She hummed, crossing her arms. “Makoto Niijima…right.”

She giggled, covering her mouth. “Your work-wife, of course…” Akechi picked the tongs back up then. She clicked them twice, but on the third time, they clacked rather harshly before checking on the cutlets frying.

I’ve…never told her about Makoto. Although, stalking is probably the reason she knows. Right…?

Her gaze softened back up and Akechi had an equally soft smile. “My offer still stands, dear Renren.” She whispered out.

Of course it was.

Ren rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “You are not tracking down Makoto and stuffing her body somewhere. That’s not…” He trailed off, sighing. “Not funny.”

Her smile faded as she hummed again. For perhaps the third time, she checked the cutlets. “I’m kidding. That would be foolish.” She set it back inside again, putting the tongs aside once more. She pressed both of the palms on her hand against the countertop and leaned over to Ren. “Do you truly believe I would expose our covers in a lapse of judgement?”

He didn’t want to entertain that thought. The tongs were enough of an answer. Instead, Ren took the time to take off his coat and set it over to the barstool. Just as quickly, Akechi appeared beside him, almost as if she was checking him out. A warmth pressed up against his cheek - her palm, as she caressed it, gently rubbing across the ridges of his jaw.

“You could use a shave,” she said softly, in a sweeter tone, “at least, before you go.”

Ren gave an equally soft smile back to her, raising his hand up to brush over hers. “I still have a few hours to burn. I’m not going anywhere until then.”

Before he had a chance to taste the moment, Ren felt his body get picked up and subtly pushed onto the countertop. He stumbled, trying to regain his balance from the sudden shift. Akechi had lifted him up there, and was now between his legs, perhaps closer than he cared to admit.

She licked her lips, slowly and seductively. Her eyes fell half-lidded. “I have an idea,” her voice hushed out, “we should burn a few of those hours and get a little personal with each other.”

“Uh…” Ren droned somewhat, feeling his face heat up. “Wh…what do you mean?”

“You seem tense, darling. I could help you relax your muscles a bit, just you and me…” She said, leaning into him closer, whispering in his ears, now. “Upstairs. It’ll get sweaty, so…shave, and then change into something comfy, won’t you…?”

Is she…?

He was speechless, and if Ren could stammer, he would’ve. Instead, Akechi backed off and gestured with her index and middle finger, almost as if to shoo him off. He almost choked on his own spittle trying to regain his footing, the loud thump sending a mild shockwave up to his body.

Hurriedly, Ren exited the kitchen. His eyes quickly glanced over to Akechi, who now pulled out the pork cutlets with the tongs and lightly blew on them. She picked up the knife and began cutting them. Not wanting to wait, he went upstairs.

Ren splashed cold water across his face multiple times, post a small shave for some stubble growing and having changed into something comfier - as was instructed. A quiet ache rustled as he tugged at his waistband, his lips pursed. He had to be patient, of course, simply because he didn’t know if it was well and truly that time.

His clothes now were effectively his pajamas from last night. He’d been meaning to change out of them later when he got home, but wearing it one last time would be nice…a soft reminder of an easier time.

Ren raised his glasses up from the bridge of his nose, putting his hand in his pockets. If she were going up, the last thing he’d need her to see was…that, awaiting.

He heard footsteps come up afterwards, gradually getting louder. Akechi landed her feet on the last set of stairs, with both hands occupied - one holding onto the bowl of katsudon, and the other onto the kitchen knife. She grinned. “Much better.”

“Are you…?” Ren softly asked, almost trailing off. 

Akechi got close to him again, somehow managing to pry one of his hands out of his pockets. He scooted his body a little farther away, and now felt the hilt of the knife clasped up against his hands again, and then swapped over both her hands to hold the bowl and a pair of chopsticks. She took a bite out of the tonkatsu cutlet. “I’m hungry, and you’re still not upstairs.”

“...The rooftop?” Ren asked, staring up the next flight of stairs to the access. It flicked back and forth between Akechi’s figure, and the flight. She only nodded and giggled.

“You have working eyes and a brain. Work it out.”

Ren let out a breath he didn’t even know he had, one of relief. He trudged up to the roof access, almost feeling like a complete idiot. Of course this wasn’t her plan - why would it be, after the myriad of times it hadn’t been already? Akechi trailed after him once he made it up, and then propped open the door. He only caught a glimpse of what looked like a training dummy and some other equipment pulled up here. 

If that was what she was doing all day, job well done - Ren wouldn’t have ever guessed. He held the door long enough for Akechi to join him on the roof. Outside, the sun was due to set, and the breeze outside was warm for the upcoming spring, so it wasn’t too bad outside. Still chilly, but not enough to warrant heavier clothes.

Ren, once again, adjusted his glasses as his eyes met the training dummy. Parts of it were already slashed with a precise and deep cut. “I’m up here because…?”

Clicking her chopsticks together, Akechi ate a bit of rice before continuing onwards. “I keep thinking back to your…technique, or lack thereof, back at the station.”

He gripped the knife a little tighter now, facing her direction. “It’s not like I got taught, and I normally use this to, you know, cut food. Not people.”

“Strike the dummy.” Akechi commanded. She pressed her back up against the railings and slowly devoured her rice.

Ren hesitated, but nevertheless followed through. It wasn’t a person, just a stand-in for one. He slashed at it - perforating the dummy would only do nothing but lodge the blade inside and possibly bend the thing. With the slash, the dummy still stood firm. 

Whilst it looked like an ordinary dummy, it was actually reinforced - his strike did nothing, and at best only provided a faint outline of where he struck. To that end, it only made Akechi’s precision all the more terrifying.

Ren furrowed his eyebrows, trying a different tactic, although it was more of the same. He struck the dummy, only to feel nothing even against how hard he tried.

He stood back for a moment, taking the time to rest. “Can I ask you something?” She nodded, eating another cutlet.

“That diploma of yours still said Goromi Hazama. I’ve been meaning to ask…" He said, shrugging. “If that’s a fake name, who gave it to you?”

Akechi gave pause to it, as she usually does. This time however, it was much shorter. However, the answer he looked for was not the one he’d expected. “Funny how the weakest and most cowardly of men believe their mistresses can spend a frivolous amount of money and not bat an eye at it, if it means giving them a sense of power.”

Confused, Ren wanted more elaboration. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

“When I was younger…I happened to chance upon many ladies who were in the care of a certain…special, someone. How easy it was, getting in their good graces enough to take more than their names.”

It only left Ren with more questions. Instead, Akechi leaned back to the railing and smirked. Laced behind those curled lips, and her soft glance, was an answer without ever speaking it: This is all Ren was going to get for the time being.

“Do it again.” She said, with Ren, shuffling back around, doing so, and as many times as she demanded of him. He tried again, and again, and again. Each and every time, perhaps a different angle - a different stroke. None of it worked, but he got used to the grip of the knife. Yet, even after all that, perhaps even slashing his target twice, the dummy remained unaffected.

Perhaps a little winded, Ren loosened up his grip on the hilt and took a small breather. “What is it you’re looking for, here?”

From the rails, Akechi moved closer, almost circling around him to observe from every angle. “Again.” She repeated.

He did so, striking with all he could. Ren’s breath caught in his lungs, and his knees almost gave out from doing it. As always, the slash did nothing. He regained balance, stepping back from the dummy and following Akechi in motion. She was already moving away, quietly slipping a nearly empty bowl of katsudon on a nearby folding table.

Be it out of instinct, or to prove a point, Ren noticed that she was rolling her sleeves up again. The way she often glided around, fluid in its motion, always was something that caught him off-guard. Without a doubt, there was more to her than just strength.

By the time she closed in, Ren straightened up and lightly exhaled. She pried the knife out of his hands again, twirling it around with her left hand. “Observe, if you will,” she said.

He stepped back again. Akechi, in her usual fashion, moved in such a way that was hard to really grasp. Everything was meticulous - precise, calculated, already determined. In one swift motion, she slashed the dummy, the fabric ripping open the small area where she struck.

The momentum shifted. She struck again, this time with a reverse grip. The dummy tore open slightly on the opposing end. She pulled back again, taking in a breath. Her eyes gazed back over, and suddenly, the knife was in his hands again - and Akechi’s hands grazed his in the process, her body pressed up closely. She raised Ren’s hands in a position he’d be comfortable with.

“Your stance is rigid,” she said in a low tone, almost breathy in nature. “Let me fix that.”

He felt her other hand descend down from shoulder to ribs, and a small amount of pressure each time. Each little microadjustment he did was to her liking. Every now and then, when she was adjusting, he could faintly smell the shampoo she used. It hitched his breath, and made him lose a bit of focus.

When she was done, she placed both hands around his arms, as he now felt her right behind him. In a familiar situation not too long ago, they were like this. The faint warmth of her breath ran contrast to the breeze gradually cooling as the sun set in the distance.

“Relax your breath for me, dear…” her tone remained consistent with it - low, and enticing. He took in a deep breath, feeling her presence right behind him. If her shampoo was to lose his focus - now was the time to reacclimate. With it, he could feel, simultaneously, her heartbeat as well as his, both in unison. Suddenly, a warmth pressed his waist, then his legs. “Don’t let your footwork be sloppy.”

Akechi returned now, easing up on him. She quietly nodded in approval, and Ren, hesitant for a moment, went with his gut instinct. He tried to emulate her, one swift, deliberate motion, with full intent on something, be it to murder or to maim. At the last second, Ren struck the dummy, quietly exhaling out as he pulled back to witness the damage.

Better than nothing, a small piece of fabric parted from the dummy, still nowhere near the destructive levels of Akechi before him. He glanced over at her, and assumed position again.

Whatever she did, the amount of effort he put into that slash was substantially less than the times he did without her guidance. He was not nearly as winded or out of breath as he was before all of this.

In response, Akechi placed her arm on his shoulder, and adjusted the position of his knife, noting how tight the grip was, like the knife was his lifeline. Softly, the exposed section of her arms grazed his own whilst Akechi slid her way down, causing Ren to steal a glance at her.

She was focused more on the target, although she did briefly shoot a knowing glance back at him, smirking. “It is neither speed nor strength that guides the edge. Your objective is clear.”

With her remaining free hand, it fell flat on the opposite end of Ren’s shoulder. “I won’t ask my husband to hesitate, or second-guess himself…”

“What’s the secret to yours, then…?” Ren whispered back.

Akechi could only sensually trace her fingers around Ren’s arm, almost as if to question why he asked that. “You know the answer.”

He exhaled, emptying out his lungs before taking in a deep breath. His mind, focused. His eyes, sharp as the blade. He hadn’t realized it, but Akechi already eased off, arms folded behind her back, humming a light tune.

I know what I must do.

One foot forward. One swift slash. The next thing he knew, the fabric tore itself wide open, even as he hesitated at the last possible moment. Without missing a beat, Ren pulled back and tried the same thing Akechi did earlier - reverse gripping the knife, and trying again.

The dummy now had a cross-section cut between his first and second strikes as he found footing again, stepping back with eyes widened. The dummy now had fresh marks courtesy of his own doing, aligning themselves on identical ends to Akechi’s hits from earlier.

The answer, as Ren considered…was willpower.

Breathlessly, the knife clanked down on the roofing as Ren let go of the hilt. He smiled brightly over at Akechi, who only stared back at him. She got closer and closer, just as the sun reached its finale to give way to the evening night skies, the quiet dusk settling in. She pursed her lips, playfully hopping on over to him with her head tilted.

And there they stood, over at the rooftop, eyes intensely piercing one another. Even now, separately, Ren could somewhat sense her heartbeat matching his in spite of his physical exertions. He scratched his head, a little hesitant to pick up the knife. Whether or not he was awaiting her approval didn’t seem to matter - Akechi often had nothing to say to him anyway.

What mattered more was, put simply…their space they shared right now. Even he didn’t know what to say. He only edged in closer, carefully stepping over the knife as they got closer again.

“Should we do this more often?” Ren asked softly. Akechi’s response was only a nod of acknowledgement, giving a soft smile.

It didn’t take long for Akechi to break it however, as she stood straight up again. She sighed in disappointment. “My meal has gone cold from this affair.”

“I-I can heat it up again if you’d like?” Ren suggested, peering over to the bowl. He felt a soft bump on his shoulder once Akechi brushed up on him.

“I won’t have that, I’ll do it myself. You need to get yourself cleaned up for date night tonight, don’t you…?”

Ren smacked his lips, sighing to himself as well. He put both his hands on his hips and tilted his head. “It’s not a date. It’s just for drinks.”

She giggled in a teasing way, heading over back to the bowl. “I’ll keep the lights on just for you,” she proclaimed, shuffling back around, but not before pointing at him. “Don’t make me look for you at night.”

On her way back downstairs, Akechi took the knife from the ground, leaving Ren alone on the rooftop for the time being. He let out a long exhale, staring at the evening twilight as it dulled into the void of night. Still, Japan moved forward in its eternal bustle, and still, he was here, living amongst everybody else. Not dead, as he initially presumed himself to be numerous times.

It’d been two weeks now since he made his abode here, and perhaps for tonight, this was the first time he ever felt like he was comfortable in it. He let out a good laugh, if only for the absurdity of it all as he headed back down. Sure enough, his muscles eased in tension, and the air somewhat mellowed out.

When he descended back down to the hallway, he heard the sounds of running water downstairs before it halted, and sounds of the television still on. Rituals remained the same - rinse himself, get in a moderately good soak in the bath, and get dressed. He felt refreshed after all of that.

Now dressed in a black coat and a turtleneck, Ren descended downstairs to meet with Akechi, who was watching a jazz performance all by her lonesome. She was curled up rather lazily, both legs comfortably resting and her arm draped over on the armrest of the couch.

There was still some time before the next train would arrive. He’d make it all the same. As quietly as he could, Ren looked back at the bar near the kitchen. He just couldn’t leave her this way, and as he was observing the kitchen, he found a bottle of golden liquid, also by Yamazaki. For this one, it was an umeshu instead of a whiskey, and the bottle was separated from the usual chilling area. With what little knowledge he knew, this probably would’ve been better cold - but hopefully Akechi didn’t mind.

Delicately, Ren popped the seal with a corkscrew, and got one glass out. He poured it, then went back to the living room, bottle and glass in hand. She noticed him then and there, her gaze glancing over, but saying nothing. 

With a small sip, Ren tasted the delicate profiling of vanilla and a light, smokey oak note, and the distinctive flavor of ume plums. Down the hatch, it went smoother than any drink he ever had, with a light finish reminiscent of almonds, or mixed berries. Delicious for what it was, and not too sickly sweet.

He turned to face Akechi, extending the glass over to her. Her eyes flicked back between him and the glass, almost chuckling at the thought.

“If this is your idea of diplomacy…” She jokingly whispered out, her tone remaining gentle. Akechi took the glass, and gave it a small sip, letting out a satisfied sigh afterwards. “How very sweet of you.”

Not wanting to finish the bottle, Ren set it on the coffee table, having been passed back the glass. In exchange, he sipped it again, smiling. Shortly afterwards, the glass stood side-by-side with the bottle. “I promise I’ll be back.”

He felt a gentle kick to his ribs just before he stood up, courtesy of Akechi. “Should I tie you to another chair so you can’t escape me?” She smirked, once more giggling at him.

Raising his hands up, Ren got out of the way. This time, he knew she was joking, and after the ordeal, he descended down the elevator.

March 7th, 20XX
Late Evening
Bar Crossroads

After boarding a train to Shinjuku with little to no issues - salarymen were perhaps getting a bit too wild at the idea of ending a long day at their favorite bars for tonight - Ren was the first to arrive at Crossroads. Per usual, his and Makoto’s spot remained reserved for them, even without calling ahead.

Also per usual, Lala Escargot already got their orders prepped ahead of time, albeit only with Ren’s for the time being. He sat down, having already taken his tall glass of beer with him. The last time he was here, that popular VAGUE magazine with Ann remained unfinished. This time though, he spent more time reading over it as he waited for Makoto to come over.

“In my time at Shujin Academy, I made it with volleyball,” Ann Takamaki told VAGUE staff. “But I didn’t do it without the support of my best friend I had there, Shiho Suzui.” 

“Never give up! Strive to do better!”

“When we were at our height, we were unstoppable. It was great-it really was great…up until I realized she couldn’t hide her pain anymore.
We all remember that day she jumped. That day she transferred schools.
That day…something in me burned.
I focused so much on modeling just to pay her bills, (laughs) I think I even begged my parents overseas to help!”

Even in his time at Shujin, he remembered that, and how two people stepped in to see if that poor girl was alright - Ann, he now knew. The other…some boy he couldn’t quite put a name to the face. He looked meek, and often suffered injuries likely from intense sports activities as well.

That day was a quiet level of suffering, and not one he could do anything to help with. But, those days were behind him. Per VAGUE staff, Shiho was doing well post-physical therapy. Even though he’d never met her in his life, he felt like a kindred spirit with what she went through. Most importantly, he was glad Ann was well, also. Even if they, too, never met.

The bar door opened, and Makoto quickly walked in. “Sorry I’m late!” She announced, deeply sighing as she took her seat. Her drink was already ready, and she immediately took a sip. “Ah…that hit the spot.”

“Hello to you, too.” Ren answered back, lightly grinning. He set the magazine aside now, waving at her. “How’d work go?”

Makoto could only loudly groan. “A whole week of trying to find Mister Nagano, and we can’t find a trace of him anywhere.” She sighed and shook her head in disbelief. “It’s like he packed up and got out of town after that arson on your apartment.”

His smile faded then and there, leaving Ren only to grunt out of disappointment too.

If only she knew.

He took another large gulp of his drink, savoring its bitter aftertaste, a small reminder of the life he was living and why he couldn’t - and shouldn’t - tell Makoto right now. For him, it’d be a death sentence. In time, of course…always, in time.

“Sounds about right.” He said, deflecting. “I wish I could’ve helped more…I only ran.”

Makoto slammed the palm of her hand on the table. “I’m frankly more upset that you said you tried calling the police and they didn’t even respond at that hour.”

An abject failure on their end, too. Inevitably, this would’ve happened with or without Ren intervening all the same, or it could’ve happened to Makoto and her apartment would’ve burned down in the nicer part of the neighborhood. In accordance to the rules of the streets, arresting people was about as practical as fucking around, and they were at the finding out stage - without any of the pretense of it being comedic.

Doing their jobs was the equivalent of doing the wrong thing.

Makoto rapidly waved at the air and shook her head again. “Enough about work honestly…we’re not staying here for long. Sis is asking me to come home a bit early after this.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Oh, just…small celebration. Bit overdue for staying two years in the force and her being double as a defense attorney now.”

Ren chuckled, tipping his glass forward. “I’ll drink to that. Congratulations.”

Makoto did the same, clinking her glass together with his. “Amen.”

And so their night went about as expected. They ordered another round, albeit in Makoto’s case, she went ahead and ordered a third one for herself. Per her usual, seemingly iron stomach, she didn’t ever drink herself under the table. By the time it was closing in on 11 PM, they were about ready to finish up.

On cue, Sae texted Makoto to come home. On the way out, Ren was always the one holding the door open for her as she slowly stepped out, and she bowed graciously when they exited out, back into Shinjuku’s red light district.

“You sure you don’t want a ride back home?” Makoto offered, clasping her hands together. “I mean, you can obviously drive.”

Ren politely declined, chopping the air, palm on the side. “This time, I’m a bit tipsier than I think.”

Makoto laughed, perhaps a little too loudly, as it caught the attention of late-night passerbys. They both ignored any onlookers all the same. “Alright, Mr. Unassuming…don’t be a stranger, alright?”

“I won’t,” Ren nodded, only patting Makoto on her shoulder. “See you at work tomorrow.”

She hummed, waving at him whilst she made her way over to her cruiser. Ren departed now, going back to the train station. On the last train ride home, Ren leaned back into his seat, almost letting the rocking of the train cradle him. He’d be back home soon, and he still wasn’t even that tired. More than anything, he was hungry. Beer could only fill him up so much.

Once the clock struck midnight, Ren made it back to the 11th floor, to a gentle smell of ramen cooking and the lights dimmed down. True to her word, Akechi was still waiting for him.

He stepped into the hallway inwards, taking off his coat and leaving it on the coat hanger. Maybe after a couple of drinks, he felt a bit bold, compelled even, to play with her. “Honey, I’m home.”

“Kitchen,” Akechi called out. Ren smiled, rubbing his hands together. When he arrived where she was, he saw her finishing up a hot bowl of miso ramen, prepped with seaweed, chashu, and a split egg ready. Her eyes glanced over to him, warm and inviting, just as his meal was. “Welcome home, darling!”

He chuckled, taking a seat with chopsticks at the ready. “Smells wonderful.”

Akechi hovered over him for a brief moment, taking a seat quietly beside Ren. She observed, all without a word. But Ren knew what she wanted. After a decent sampling of the ramen, he felt a different texture to it than her usual cooking. In a way, perhaps she was heeding his opinions on it.

There was no longer any lack of soul within the meals Akechi crafted. Faintly, Ren could taste that there was a modicum of effort, of passion, into it. It’s not something most others could detect unless given what to look for.

Slurping down the set of noodles he picked up, he swallowed and gave an affirming nod. “This is really good.”

“Wonderful,” Akechi cooed, softly smiling. “Now pay me back by setting aside time for a drink date later.”

They could, frankly, do that any day. After finishing his meal, Akechi retired to her own bedroom while Ren stayed up. Eating a full-bodied meal and then resting was grounds to chuck it back up, and letting himself rest would provide dividends for an easier time post-digestion. He got changed, back into newer, comfier pajamas. Ren set aside his hamper for laundry, something he could toss in before work.

And as the night ticked away, after Ren got rest, the morning came - and the mundanity of his own life continued. He went to work with another meal prepped by Akechi herself, an omurice for lunch. Now, instead of believing stops at home were a means to an end…going home was something he’d be looking forward to.

March 8th, 20XX
Late Evening
SIU Offices

After another hard day at work, the department managed to track down and apprehend the criminal they were long after. Another case closed, another day passed. He was about ready to go home.

Once again, the early campaigner of Masayoshi Shido was playing out on a radio station he was tuned into. Even when he was deliberately avoiding politics, the same could not be said vice versa. Politics found him, instead. He never had any intention of listening in - all of it was drivel, and he couldn’t care less.

“I am, of course, one with strong borders and strong unity for the Japanese. Every nation has members who deserve redemption…so long as they are born within the right family. I wish to steer this country in the right direction is all.”

His words, while provocative, were still empty. Ren was about to close out the radio, but a knock on his door caught his attention. “Come in, it’s open.”

It swung open, and it was Akihiko with a manila folder in his hands. He had his gray suit jacket off, wearing only a slate gray button-up shirt and his gray slacks. “Detective.” He said, his voice a little coarse.

“What do you have for me?” Ren asked, coming over to meet him halfway. He straightened up his posture, eyeing the folder.

“Man, you have no fuckin’ idea how many hoops I had to jump over this. I even had to call an old friend from Kirijo Corp to help track this down…” Akihiko let out a long, but relieved sigh. “Thank you, Mitsuru-chan, for being my high school best friend…”

Ren’s eyes widened a bit. “You were friends with Mitsuru Kirijo?”

“The one and only,” Akihiko laughed. “That’s a story for another day - look, I don’t wanna spoil the moment. I skim-read what you asked me to find about that Takemura guy.”

He handed over the manila folder to Ren, and he took it with both of his hands. “Let’s just say, if I wanted to feel like shooting myself, this would’ve been it. I need some eyebleach, man…”

“...That bad?” Ren asked, concerned. His eyes flicked over to the folder, reluctantly wanting to open it. He noticed now, a certain heft to the weight of it all.

“Yeah,” Akihiko said, turning around. He gave a small wave to him. “Tread carefully, Ren-kun. It ain’t pretty.”

Ren shut the door afterwards, the radio still playing. “Yoshizawa-san, what I mean to say is that I am a well-intentioned man…” Tuning out the noise, Ren sat back down and opened up the manila folder. He expected nothing else he couldn’t handle - he’d already seen mutilated and mangled corpses. What’s the next step up from here, really?

As per usual, Takemura’s profile was present. Still, he had no family name. Even this was difficult to track down for even the elites of society. He skimmed notes - easy enough to parse. Human sex trafficking, disposal of bodies per the hire of being a fixer to the underworld, murder.

These already warranted death, as a brief flash of memory struck Ren’s mind. Of how Takemura bled on his apartment floor, life departing from his mortal shell. He still hated himself for doing that…but if it meant keeping the city safer - especially after this, then fine.

But as Ren dived more into the depths of depravity, he saw photos of interest. Takemura seen with women, entering or exiting hotels, barely legal and older, in their 30’s and 40’s alike - alongside a man wearing the same suit, his visage always cropped out. Comments splayed out, anonymous messages between two clients - himself and an individual.

It was pretty obvious which comments were Takemura’s based off of Ren’s brief, and frankly distasteful meeting with him were like. Comments such as, “How many mistresses do you truly want?”, “No age gap required, fucking sicko”, and “As long as I’m getting paid.”, all wrote with professionalism, but personal bias. "How many cops are you going to buy off? I can handle this without them."

…Mistresses?

Ren gave pause to it. He looked back at one photo - an older woman. They were beaten, and clearly bruised, and once again, the cropped image of a man in a suit. This time however, he saw somebody else accompanying him - a politician. The current Chief Cabinet Secretary, Jyun Owada.

A politician…is this…?

Ren quickly swiped over to several of the other comments Takemura left behind. He skimmed many, nothing came of interest. Until one caught his attention. With all the deliberate subterfuge, how well hidden this politician was, this one slip confirmed everything.

“Okay baldie, whatever the fuck you want. You want those pseudo-science girls of yours bending over? You got it.”

The lightbulb in his head cracked, breaking down. Ren found his breath hitched now, coming back to reality inside his office. Once again, the radio show continued on.

“The youth should be grateful. They’re often born in the right families to do the right thing. They deserve a chance at a better Japan.” Shido’s voice rang out - but now, it had a sinister undertone as Ren overheard it.

Ren accessed his computer, signing back in. He went back to the police databases. He searched up information about Jyun Owada, and results came up about him as well - him being tied to the sudden death of a woman in a hit-and-run incident. The ruling was that his brakes stopped working at a time when he was returning home, yet evidence found he was clearly inebriated to the point of disbelief.

He searched up everybody else in the past - Kunikazu Okumura. Results found. Toranosuke Yoshida. Results found.

Reluctantly, Ren slowly typed in the one name he hoped was a false lead.

Masayoshi Shido - No Results Found.

This was an impossibility. Every individual, no matter how corrupt or how tied they are on the right or wrong side of society, had a case file within the police department. Even for somebody like Ren Amamiya, he had a case file for information condensing. There was a reason Ren could not find this man, the same way he remembered the way those policemen interrupted his investigation at Shinjuku all those weeks ago.

A harsh chill was sent down into his spine. He found it hard to breathe now, as a flood of connecting pieces of information came together.

A politician. The right family. Mistresses. Violent womanizer. Deliberately hidden.

His posture matching Akechi’s when they drank. Cowardly man. Connection to Takemura, Akechi’s withheld information. The off-hand comment about mistresses.

Their eloquence. Even their eyes were the same shade of brown.

The map messages were meant for Shido. Not him.

Everything clicked.

The woman he was living with, the one known as The Black Mask, Crow, Akechi…

Was the daughter of Masayoshi Shido. And she fully intends to kill her own father.

Ren found himself sweating, breathing unevenly. He took the manila folder and his bag, running straight out of his office. He didn’t even lock the door behind him, or turn the lights off.

He felt dizzy. But he was focused on one thing, and one thing only:

I have to go home.

Chapter Text

“Everyone sees what you appear to be. Few experience what you really are.” - Niccolò Machiavelli

March 8th, 20XX
Late Evening
Ren and Akechi’s Safehouse

Genichiro Nakamura. Eiichiro Takeda. Shinomiya Furuya.

Faces soon to be long forgotten in an endless burial of cases. Names to be remembered for the rest of his life.

Emichika Ishida. Satoshi Midoriya. Jin Suzuki.

People who unintentionally died because of Ren’s carelessness. They didn’t need to die, but some parts of him would’ve disagreed otherwise.

Juzo Nagano. Satoru Yamaguchi. Yumiko Kagami.

Victims with crimes for the measure of their worth, all slain with remorse in his heart. If there were any other way…not that there was a future for them. Not anymore.

Jyun Owada. Takemura. Masayoshi Shido.

A lobbyist for a corrupt party. A murderer and a fixer. A father with an unknown death wish.

Ren hurriedly exited the subway train back into Meguro Ward, almost tripping over himself on the platform. His hands were acting before his own thoughts, as he pushed aside others for his own sake, ignoring common courtesies. “I’m sorry!” He shouted, turning his head back around as he ascended the stairs.

No time to catch his breath, no time to even think about anything except home, and Akechi.

She had lied to him. His mind remained, amidst all the racing thoughts, on that moment weeks ago when he witnessed her stare at Shido’s posters at the subway station. Her ‘nothing’ couldn’t ever be for nothing. All the cryptic messages led him to this moment, and now, he felt foolish for thinking absolutely his own ‘nothing’ of it.

Fastly approaching their building complex, Ren braced with his backpack and slammed against the wall to halt his sprint. Nothing valuable was in there anyway, aside from the manila folder that wouldn’t bend easily anyway. Ren quickly got into the elevator, and dialed the incorrect input twice on the scanner before typing it correctly.

His heartbeat was frantic, and now, with minimal downtime, Ren hitched his breath, both palms on his knees and a dry cough sputtering in his throat. After the cough came the wave of dry heaving from all the adrenaline, then his chest tightening.

It was rendered painful, and his eyesight felt blurred once he managed to catch up to everything all at once. His ears rang with white noise, and he glanced upwards, watching the levels go up ever so slowly. Now, his knees could not return to a straight formation. He felt like passing out from how much energy he exerted.

Come on…come on!

8th Floor.

Just who exactly are you, Akechi?

9th Floor.

What do you mean you’re killing your father?

10th Floor.

Was all of this for vengeance, not justice? What message are you sending?!

11th Floor.

The elevator doors opened up, and Ren slid on by, enough for him and his backpack to get in. The lights were still on, and he made a mad dash towards the living room.

“Akechi!” He yelled out, its echo reverbing in emptiness. A faint, lingering scent of a home-cooked meal betrayed his senses right now. He breathed heavily, looking around the room. Nobody responded. Setting his backpack down on the couch for the sunken living room, Ren got upstairs, noting that both doors to their bedrooms were open. “AKECHI!” He repeated, this time much louder, his voice hoarse.

Still no response. Ren’s heartbeat was rampant and wild. Where was she? He crashed into her bedroom now, holding onto his good arm, having bashed it twice on surfaces he didn’t intend on. Laying on her bed were articles of clothing - her loungewear, neatly folded and set aside. She was not in her Black Mask attire, which was the only small kindness Ren could ask for. The bathroom door was open, and everything else was quiet.

Nobody else was in the safehouse except for him.

His own posture began failing him as Ren staggered backwards - just in time for his hand to brush and catch the doorway. He exited out of her bedroom, slowly trudging back downstairs. Now, his knee caught an awkward step - but his mind was not ready to fail him yet. Ren caught onto the railing, preventing himself from tumbling down. Carefully now, he descended down the stairs until the last bit of marching landed smoothly, on flat ground. If he was to have downtime, he’d have to recoup and rethink his approach.

At the very least, he was home. The advantage was his. Ren approached the kitchen, grabbing a cup of water and quickly downing it immediately, although the liquid caught in his throat and exacerbated his cough by going down the wrong windpipe. Even this did not stop him, as now, he made his approach to the living room. He sat down next to his backpack, pulling out the manila folder.

He couldn’t be wrong, could he? Ren swiped through the many photos of Shido’s mistresses, and he happened to stumble across someone familiar that he didn’t catch the first time in his panic. His breath slowed down now, but his heartbeat did not comply.

From the photo being presented to him, standing next to Takemura, was Yumiko. The date on there was at least over a decade ago, and her features were bruised, parts of her clothes torn whilst she remained covered in other articles of clothing that did not belong to her.

“What’re you doing here…?” Ren whispered to himself. In some ways, he could ask himself the same thing. Quickly, he skimmed over the next text exchange concerning her.

“You really fucked her up. When you said no age gap, I didn’t think you meant it like that.”

No matter what tale Ren was trying to spin in his head, none of it would’ve amounted to the same level of depravity that had gotten Shido this far into his life. He missed it, simply because he wasn’t meant to be found. Still, all of this only motivated him to dig deeper, seek further, knowing full well the more he went, the darker things got. 

Ren flipped through the dossier slowly now, each with their own respective new women emerging out of various hotels. Some, more than others, kept coming back, brutal as that may be. Like they had no other option, or they made their choice already. Hardly ever the same one, unless it was unintentional or not. Either way, he was hoping to look for one in particular.

Nothing came of it. More details would’ve been with Akechi. He let the manila folder flop down on the coffee table, and leaned his head back into the couch. He did not want to relax, even if this moment felt right for him to do so.

Jyun Owada. Takemura. Masayoshi Shido.

Their names repeated in the back of his brain, picking at him incessantly. As his mind wandered off into relaxation, he wasn’t sure what else to think about anymore. Steadily, he raised his palm up, noting how much they trembled and how hard it was to keep it steady now. Ren balled his fists together until his hands calmed, and laid down on the couch.

Perhaps he was hallucinating now, palm covering his eyes. Or, perhaps…he was wrong. Like Icarus flying too close to the sun, not everything warm was designated to be taken as a sense of all going right. Not every smile is with the intention of being safe. But if that were the case, still…why keep him here?

None of that could be easily fabricated. He knew how to read body language - hers was genuine. She liked being near him, and was all the better for it. Even last night when they cooked food together, he might’ve not eaten a whole lot in recent times, but that still meant they crafted something human with care and sincerity. The longing of nothingness and silence, he saw the face of Akechi and the warmth of…practically everything about her, radiating in a bright, all-consuming flash. Her smile, that gentleness of hers.

Brushing up against him and his palm. Feeding him food, not once, but twice - albeit, the first time was more forced than chosen. Still, he chose. To be there for her. To save her. Again, and again, and to believe in her. But most important of all, to…

The thought couldn’t be finished then, as the sound of the elevator doors opened. In the presence of the silence, the familiar melodic humming approached ever closer. Now alert, Ren’s body shot up from the couch, ignoring all of his previous exhaustion. “Akechi…” He croaked out, reaching his hand out for her.

From the distance in the shadow, Akechi emerged, wearing her usual, seemingly infinite amount of compression shirts, sleeves rolled down. Around her waist carried baggy sweatpants, and comfortable looking sneakers. Lastly, around her neck was a half-soaked towel, with her brushing off any excess sweat. 

“My dear…” She whispered, approaching him closer, lowering her stance to meet him down at the couch. Lightly, Akechi’s hand brushed over Ren’s cheek, smirking. “Were you in such a hurry that you couldn’t wait to see me?”

“I…” Ren trailed off. He stared longingly at her, only to find a quick flash of her actual smile in his thoughts juxtaposed upon her face. He wanted to back away, yet…he persisted. But, as she would have it, Akechi backed off.

“All that working out at Protein Lovers has made me thirsty,” she remarked, throwing the towel over to the countertop. From their collection, she selected an unusual choice for the night, from Domaine Takahiko, their signature Nana-Tsu-Mori Pinot Noir red wine. Turning back now with a wine glass in hand, Akechi kept up her smile. “That date night with drinks starts now.”

As she sat down, Akechi popped the cork, letting its light aroma of mushrooms fill their space. Without much thought, she brushed aside the manila folder, ignoring its contents. With bottle in hand, she poured a darkly vermillion liquid into the glass, parts of it bubbling in a sickly way. Once filled, she lifted it up delicately, and handed Ren the glass. He stared at it, then flicked his eyes back at her, with her head tilted. Precise, swift, and with certainty.

Downing its contents, Ren noticed the notes of strawberries, earthly mushrooms, and perhaps even plums in there. Its profile was dry instead of sweet, and its acidic nature popped in his mouth before sliding down. Its contents were not gentle, and the remnants of the red stains on there were reminiscent of something else.

As was tradition, Ren grabbed the wine bottle now as Akechi flipped the television on. On cue, the news was playing. She increased the volume, having already read the article with a satisfied hum and rubbing her chin. “Oh my…” her grin curled, even bigger than before.

“...dead. After several weeks of quiet investigation, police have now identified at least 15 mutilated corpses with splintered bones and puncture wounds, found hidden in a compartment thought inaccessible down at the subway station…”

Ren’s attention shot up now, with a look of horror. He momentarily stopped pouring the red wine, now taking a glance over at the reporter, who was clearly looking disheveled, tired, and clearly isn’t going to sleep well tonight. Sweat gathered under their dress shirt as they resorted to removing their suit jacket and letting it hang around their chair, and his eyes already spoke of the tragedy he witnessed, uncensored.

“...Sources claim that the only way the bodies were found was due to following a trail of rat droppings, with remains of what analysts confirmed was human remains. Many are now speculating the possibility of cannibalism, or perhaps the work of the now infamous Black Mask, who had previously disappeared for two weeks…”

Ren let out a tired sigh, his gaze shifting over to Akechi, who was having an opposite reaction. “I was beginning to wonder when they would discover it…” She mused, giggling to herself. “How…wonderful.”

He swallowed, nervous and his hands trembling again. He almost spilled wine in excess over the surface of the coffee table from it, but Ren caught himself at the last second, now handing the glass over to Akechi. She took a gentle sip, although a slight trickle of red rolled down her lips in the process. With a satisfactory sigh instead, glass gleaming from the reflection of the reporter on the screen, her eyes met his.

“They must understand now, my work is never done.” Akechi said, slowly and seductively licking her lips once again.

He wasn’t certain if the lighting played tricks again, or…if the shades of malevolence in her gaze were as crimson red as they once were. Parts of him remained entranced, yet parts of him begged him to avert his own gaze. Regardless, she took another sip, leaving not one drop of it left on the stained glass.

Back and forth, Akechi raised the wine bottle again - only this time, Ren stopped her. He brushed his hand over hers, tugging it away. “Akechi,” Ren’s voice cracked back into something clearer after the drink. He cleared his throat, and let go of her hand shortly afterwards.

Do I say it…and risk knowing she might kill me, or do I deflect, and live forever cursed with knowledge…?

Ripping a band-aid off would hurt less than this for him. Once more, he nervously swallowed. Ren would eventually pop the question, his tone hesitant. “...Masayoshi Shido is your father, and your target, isn’t he?”

The room fell deadly quiet now, as Akechi’s attention turned completely towards him. The TV became just meaningless background noise to the both of them now, as her gaze bored into him, her expression unknowable. She did not smile, nor did she react upon hearing this for a long time. Even now, another flash of her faintly reminded Ren that this was the very same woman he was living with for quite some time.

Eventually, Akechi only gave another smirk. “Detectives are quite an ambiguous and uncertain thing, don’t you agree…?”

Her voice was…different. Not in any way Ren could pinpoint - half between restrained, yet still sweet and warm. “By themself, there’s no guarantee they’re useful to society. There’s a couple of things needed to prove their value…”

Ren only continued to gaze at her, noting the glint in her eyes shifting as well. Just when he thought he knew her…did he, really? Even for a short while? Was sharing coffee and curry really all it took? No. Not really.

Akechi stood up now, ignoring the red wine and setting the glass down. Ren followed suit, all without ever knowing why. “The first,” she continued on, “is a tough case in which he or she can only solve. The second…”

With bated breath, Ren followed along, until they reached the hallway between the kitchen and living room. Swiftly - more than his fatigued physique could parse, she slammed him not too harshly against the wall, hand and figure blocking his way out. Even the mere act of not even touching him knocked the wind out of Ren’s sails. The sudden jolt awakened him again, awakening him out of an exhausted stupor now. 

“The second is the existence of a worthy rival to make such a case.” Her smile returned now, as she gleamed over, eyeing Ren in a different way. “You simply could not resist, could you…?” Akechi forced a bit of laughter out, before rolling her free hand down her face, eyes widening as her grin extended. “You have truly captured my heart, detective…”

Rival…?

Ren didn’t know what to make of it. This entire time, he never saw her as one. Albeit, before they even met, he never knew The Black Mask would’ve demanded a challenge, and he unwittingly accepted. He didn’t believe it, and in some ways…Ren didn’t believe Akechi meant it either. Despite this, he regained his composure, slackening his shoulders. Lightly smacking his lips, he said, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Another giggle. Akechi lifted herself up now, slowly rolling her hand off the wall and onto Ren’s arm instead. Her eyes fluttered down at him, but the words she spoke betrayed what she was doing. “My father was a good for nothing man who abandoned my mother…rotten to the core. Scum of the Earth.” She remained close, perhaps too close to him now. “A worthless degenerate who has everything coming to him.”

For a brief moment, Ren detected a hint of anger in her tone rising. Suddenly, her soft grip turned tight on his sleeve. “I must say that I am truly astounded that you’ve managed to crack the code I’ve been sending him…you truly cannot help but chase after me, can't you...?”

That alone affirmed to Ren that everything he had uncovered was true. All of this was to get towards someone that wasn't him.

Akechi’s grip softened now, as her eyes also softened in expression, and shot back up to meet him. “It must be poetic, vowing to kill together with your rival…” She said in a hushed, sultry whisper, getting closer to Ren. It was almost with a hint of genuine, heartfelt desire - convincing, yet distant. Now, both palms of her hands caressed his cheeks. “So close to finding the truth, right in front of you…”

A breathy sigh escaped her lips and she hummed again. “Perhaps we were meant to be, if you’re that relentless.”

It did not deter Ren in the slightest, but it did make him all the more concerned. He played along, rolling his own hands around her hips. “Akechi,” he said, “my job as a detective is to ensure that people like him are brought to justice. Of course I couldn’t just leave it be.”

Just like how I can’t leave you be, either…

He swallowed, trying his best to give back a soft smile. “Let me handle it first. It's only right.”

It only made Akechi scoff and roll her eyes. “Darling, surely you cannot be this naive? Your way does not work. Not anymore. Men like him do not change, do not kowtow the line.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” Ren said, raising his hand up. “Think about it. How about letting someone else walk in? They’ll never see it coming. It can also help confirm he’s actually there.”

Now with his hand freed from one of her hips, he lightly grazed her cheek, brushing away strands of hair from her face, just as she did. It was slightly damp from her workout, but all the same, he didn’t mind. In that momentary pause, she let him. In the silence, all Ren could hear how eerily calm and steady her breathing was. Even still, he didn’t back away. Instead, he got closer, now leaning in her ear instead. “We made a vow, remember…?” Slowly, now receding his head back, he nodded. “As your beloved husband.”

It was all it took for Akechi to be undone, in his eyes. She backed off, parts of her lips quivering in excitement and covering her mouth once again whilst never letting her gaze leave him. She exhaled, biting her lower lip. “My oh my, Renren…now you do know how to make a woman hear everything they want to hear,” she cooed. Her stance readjusted, and she eased up her tension. “Fine. Have it your way, dear.” Her warm smile returned, as did her demeanor. “If it’s what you want, I will allow it.”

A part of him was relieved, but all the same, not quite trusting enough of Akechi’s words. There must be something more to it that he didn’t quite know about yet. If it was to assuage her intense behavior, that was a victory in itself, at least for now. He didn’t have time to rest though, because now, Akechi moved back into the living room. He followed along, limping in his steps from his exhaustion.

“If it's okay...tell me about her,” Ren said, breaking the silence once more. “Your mother.”

He wasn’t expecting much. Maybe even non-answers. Akechi handed him the wine bottle again, demanding a second drink. He grabbed it, and slowly poured.

“By the time I actively knew what was going on…I realized I had no father in my life,” Akechi said, her tone suddenly gentle. “My mother was brilliant. I didn’t know what she worked as, but she was smart. Intuitive. Knew her way around. When she had me, she was forced to work at nightclubs, perhaps even…” She trailed off unexpectedly. With the wine glass filled back up now, Akechi took a long sip from it.

She smacked her lips. “I know she took many men in and ordered me to stay at a bathhouse often, when I was younger. Before I knew it, she was gone. And I…” She sighed. The usual glint in her eyes dimmed as her gaze turned downwards. She took another sip from her glass, this one not as self-assured as it once was.

“I think that’s enough. For now, anyway.” Akechi said eventually. The thought was not finished, but it told Ren more, and in spades. He set the bottle down, finding the cork and putting it back on.

“I’m sorry,” he remarked, running his hand over her arm. “I hate to bring this up, but…help me understand.”

From the corner of his eye, Ren brought the manila folder back into the forefront of the table. He opened up its contents, letting papers spill out for Akechi to read, once she leaned in. A soft grin landed on her face once she peered back. “Of course it’s him.”

“It’s not that,” Ren said, flipping over to where Yumiko’s photo was. With a deep sigh, he pointed over to her bruised face in the photo. “You knew about her, and if I’m right…” His attention focused back on the television. News went straight for something else, yet the ticker below remained subtly following along on the murders of Juzo and the 14 other criminals. He didn’t need to point for Akechi to get where he was at.

Ren felt her warm finger press up against his lip now, parts of her body curled up closely to him on the couch. “I’ll stop you right there. You’ve clearly understood the objective,” she chuckled, “every important figure attached to that bastard has had a lasting impact where it counts. Every message I’ve sent to him has been directly towards people that answer to him…or his little bankroller.”

She didn’t stop there, either. Whispering gently into Ren’s ear, her hot breath tickled his skin. “The one thing I never anticipated was finding you when I found that girl and those two boys…”

Leaning back, Akechi’s gaze turned up to the roof. With a deep sigh, she crossed her arms and folded her leg over the other. “The rot he leaves behind becomes the quiet respite of our salvation.”

Even the safehouse they lived in was stained with Shido’s name. And by default, Ren knew this was too precise to be anything but. He stared back at her, wordlessly humming. Even if Makoto were there to save him, it wouldn’t have mattered in the long run. 

They both would’ve run into The Black Mask, and in that situation…they both would’ve died, also. In another life, Ren could’ve just walked away, enjoyed his curry, and lived his life. But today…he made a choice. One paved in blood.

The mood changed, as did the sudden chill in the air. Akechi gently placed a hand on his lap now, bringing his attention back to her. “I can pinpoint all the burner safehouses he has used in the past. The one thing I wish I had knowledge of…is, indeed, my father’s whereabouts. I’ve long since given up and have opted to wait until his ugly head is reared out.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, and pondered. Thinking back on it, he still got hung up about that failed barcrawl with the men spilling information about a certain politician. If he chanced upon them again, or perhaps…revisited. There could be a chance. There was no way he could trust the police - if he’d come up to the obvious dirty cops and suddenly their main man was dead, the implications would be too severe for him to dodge.

In exchange, Ren placed his hand over hers, giving it a soft squeeze. He smiled. “Let me do the work. And remember…last resort. Don’t go in until I say.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. With a solemn nod, Akechi stood up now. He watched her slowly ascend - even her posture changed back to something else, almost as if she were determined. A little too practiced. A little…too ready. Rising to the occasion, Ren stumbled getting back up with her as she trailed upstairs.

Was it happening tonight? Couldn’t be, she wouldn’t move this fast without motive, and not without Ren at peak condition. No, what unfolded before him was something else. Her hand extended out, rolling her fingers across the delicate sheen of the bats. Instead of the numerous bats displayed on the table, Akechi quietly opened something else up that was hidden deliberately.

Akechi licked her lips again, her chuckle growing in malice. “I’ve been waiting to use this for a long time…”

From her left hand, she pulled out something that was unwieldy, a complete betrayal of subtlety. All this time, he had known her to use bats - clean, swift, hides the damage internally. What was in her hand now was a serrated blade akin to a katana, purposefully unsharpened and intended to cause as much damage as possible. She raised it up, now pointing at Ren.

In response, he picked up one of the bats instead, offering it out to her. “Hang on. Are we not using this?”

Once more, Akechi chuckled and her eyes widened slightly more. “Why tenderize what will bleed soon enough?” Her blade lingered, just before she angled it over to the briefcase. “Why don’t you open that for me, darling?”

Earlier, Ren saw this briefcase and he didn’t want to open it on his explorations around the safehouse. Cautiously, Ren fiddled around with the latches on its metallic silver finish, finding his way to prop it open. What awaited him were several filled silver-colored magazines loaded with bullets, a long and black cylindrical tube - suppressor - and above all of that, a matte black finished pistol.

What in the actual hell…

Ren did not know his guns, but this was not a weapon designated by the police. He saw the label engraved on the barrel of the gun, ‘Sig Sauer’. He took a step back now as Akechi approached him, katana lowered. It wasn’t an airsoft model either, like for certain gun enthusiasts who could find replica models at genuine shops, this was, in fact, the real deal.

“A gun?” Ren asked, his tone slightly raised higher than normal. “How did you get this?”

The clink of steel rang out against the room once she placed the katana on the table, over the aluminum bats. Observing the gun, Akechi smirked and focused her attention back over to Ren. “Even when something is discarded long after they’re no longer useful, they still retain certain aspects that make it a source of information.”

As cryptic as ever, Akechi closed the briefcase now and let it be. “A couple thousand yen or so disappear from that man’s bank account and it’s perfectly fine…leisurely spending, of course.”

“And that didn’t include his whereabouts?” Ren asked, putting his hands in his pockets. The bright glint of the katana still caught his eye, and frankly, he didn’t want to be anywhere near that thing.

“His mistresses are never kept up to date. It used to be that they were escorted. Now, they’re transported.” Akechi picked the blade back up, carrying it with her other hand. With a light forward tilt of her head, Ren was already being asked to evict himself out of the armory. He did so, walking backwards and almost tumbling over until he hit the safety railing on the hallway. “I have lots of work to do tonight, sweetheart…you should get some rest, don’t you think?”

Ren took in a deep breath, feeling his chest tighten up. The sudden shift made him cough, but otherwise, the small amount of rest he got back home was enough. He shook his head, waving at her. “I can stay up for you.”

It almost made her laugh, her eyes glancing over to him. She got real close now, gripping the katana so as to not let the blade face forward. Within his personal space, Akechi hovered, taking in a deep breath and gleefully humming. Next thing Ren knew, he felt a light bump up against him, catching him off-guard and almost losing his footing.

With a light smack of her lips, Akechi turned back around. “My man needs to be at full strength…be a dear and go rest.”

Ren did not protest. With one additional breath, he recomposed himself and went downstairs again to collect the manila folder. Somewhere along the way, he didn’t even realize he lost his phone on the couch and collected that, too, but not before the screen lit itself up. Akihiko texted him, ‘You okay man? You forgot to turn off the lights at the office.’, and Ren texted back, ‘I must’ve been tired, sorry.’, and let it be.

Back up the stairs, Ren heard the sounds of Akechi humming that tune of hers again in the distance, and the sounds of running water in a sink. He chose not to check up on her, lest she forcibly push him into bed and tie him up. Instead, he entered into his bedroom and set the manila folder aside, stripping himself of his clothes. Routine became normal again - shower, rinse, soak in a bath, change of clothes. All of that eased up his muscles, and the exhaustion he felt running back home.

By now he was half expecting Akechi to barge in, interrupted. To his surprise, she didn’t. Instead, multiple footsteps back and forth echoed in the distance, heading upstairs to the roof. It’d be best not to disturb her and do as she asks. With the bath drained now, Ren slipped into bed with his blankets up, pulling his phone out.

For the longest time, Ren’s growing curiosity got the best of him. He lightly tapped Akechi's pseudonym onto a search engine, “Goromi Hazama”. From what top results could gather, nothing ever matched her description. He dug deeper, putting in Tokyo University as well. What came up was somebody without a face, only a name. Graduated the year prior to his own.

Normally they would’ve had a class photo attached, but even here, through careful investigation, Ren could not find her. True to her nature even now, she was a ghost without a known past. Erasing his search and starting from scratch, he tried other avenues: Goromi Hazama nightclub, Akechi nightclub. Nothing of relevance came up.

Whoever she truly was underneath all this, it did give Ren an idea for the next steps towards investigating Shido, even if it meant crossing lines that he wouldn't have to - but then again...he already did that once. Briefly, Ren turned his screen off and let it fall flat on his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. His attention focused back to the general direction of Akechi's room once more, and he pursed his lips. 

Become somebody I’m not. That's what I'm going to have to do.

But if it means I can at least investigate, determine something...gather files, surely...?

Fool's errand. Shido would never walk. But if I can't save him...can I save anybody else?

...In sickness, and in health. Until death, do we start...do I take my accomplice, the one known as Akechi, as my beloved wife?

With waning energy and half-lidded eyes, Ren took his glasses off, setting it aside along with his phone, rolled over to one side. Listening to his own breath, his thoughts took him away elsewhere, and for the last thing he remembered thinking about, it was Akechi and her smile coming towards him.

Chapter Text

"The devil’s finest trick is to persuade you he does not exist.” - Charles Baudelaire

March 13th, 20XX
Afternoon
Bar Albatross

On a slow afternoon patrol by his lonesome back at Shinjuku’s Golden Gai, Ren managed to find another group of criminals being a little too loud, a little too assured of themselves. Without the police around this time, Ren snuck into the bar.

Bar Albatross was snuck in a hidden corner, as did the 300 other bars layered around Golden Gai. The dim lights and resplendently elegant framings enticed others. This was no ordinary bar. The atmosphere here was filled with dark woods and felt like he’d stepped into a palace, not a usual watering hole. Mirrors were strategically displayed around, and parts of Ren’s reflection stared back at him on the way in.

After almost a whole week of crawling, he’d finally managed to find a group of troublemakers he could safely tail. Already, the group took their seats in a quiet corner, hooting and hollering indistinctly. Taking out his small notebook and adjusting his glasses, Ren ran through his notes again.

Over the course of a week, he’d been eavesdropping on suspected dirty cops around the department. It was hard enough to cut through the noise of meet-ups, hangouts, and genuine hush talks. To further gather any potential keywords, Ren spent his time in the office tuned into past interviews with Shido himself. As difficult as it was to pinpoint, he did manage to find maybe a phrase that could work.

He stuffed the notebook back into his pocket. From a distance, he saw an open space free for the taking, and he sat down.

“Hey! What the hell?!” One of the guys shouted, closest to Ren. His hair was that of a faux-hawk, and unnaturally dyed blonde. “Who’re you?!”

“Sorry,” Ren apologized, bowing his head out of courtesy. “Buy you all the first round?”

Of the five men around the table, himself included, they all looked at each other and crossed their arms. They all wore similar outfits - straight-cleaned gray or white dress shirts and jackets, obvious enough to cover their tattoos peeking through their coat sleeves. One of them shrugged, pushing up his aviators. “What’s the occasion? Can’t just sit down an’ buy us shit without somethin’ owed.”

On cue, Ren shuffled in his pocket and slid his badge on the empty table. “Detective Ren Amamiya,” he announced. All of their eyes widened, and some of them were already ready to pummel him. He raised his hands up in defense. “Let me finish, okay?”

“Ya got five seconds ‘fore we kick your ass, bud.” One of the men in the deepest corners barked out, cracking his knuckles. Possibly too stereotypical to take seriously, he had a bandaged eyepatch around his left eye. It didn’t really intimidate Ren either. Instead, he assumed a soft smile.

“I heard from my colleagues that you could help me get somewhere.” He steepled his fingers together, laying them on the table. “Are you familiar with Officer Onizuka, by any chance?”

“And if we are…?” The faux-hawked man responded, leaning in closer.

Ren kept asserting his control over the situation. He turned over to face him.

If the code didn’t work, he’d be fucked up pretty badly. If it did…and, in the off-chance it worked to great effect, this was his ticket in. With a deep breath, Ren cleared his throat.

“I want to help steer Japan in the right direction.”

An awkward silence fell upon the bar table. All four men looked around, whispering indistinctly amongst themselves whilst Ren observed them.

Did it work…?

He wasn’t too certain. But the situation at hand wasn’t escalating either, so it must’ve. Eventually, one of them quickly reached over to him, giving him a subtly gentle pat on the shoulder. “And what’s your desire for finding him, then? Money, fame?”

Ren gave it some thought, his gaze scanning over to each one of them. They all had raised eyebrows, awaiting his response.

No drugs. He didn’t look like he was itching for his next hit. No personal vendetta, that’d be too difficult to explain. Fame wasn’t what Ren would be chasing after either, it’d make him a target. As for money…not really. The answer, sadly, was always the same.

I hate what I’m about to say. But it’s the easiest one to disarm them all.

Ren cleared his throat again, just in time to see the bartender walk around. He circled his hand over, quickly interrupting the tension. “Hey! Round of drinks on me, will you?”

The bartender, bearded and looking relatively fatigued for an afternoon, nodded and returned over to the dive, paying the rest of the criminals behind Ren no mind. With that out of the way, he turned back around.

“I think I’d like some babes. Nice and tight.”

A bit of a sour aftertaste stained his tongue after the fact. After a few moments, all of the guys around busted out laughing, slapping the table.

“Bro’s built like a fuckin’ stick, looks like a nerd, and he wants some ass, can ya believe that?”

“Cops must be desperate,” the last man who didn’t speak before chimed in, “‘cause those girls in uniform? Sheesh…can’t even touch ‘em, huh?”

The laughter erupted further before it subsided, though some remained getting out of their system with it. Ren never felt more embarrassed, but…it was working. With one pounding of a fist on the table, one of the men got everybody else in check. “Alright, enough outta ya. That guy’ll hook you up…and you got yourself a deal, Detective.”

With a confident nod, Ren smirked and tapped his fingers. “Great. Where can I find him?”

“Not so fast, slick,” the man with the eyepatch interrupted. “What can you really bring to the table ‘side from some drinks for us?”

A small bead of sweat dropped from Ren’s forehead. Was it hot in here, or was it just the weather getting ready for spring, and he was overdressed? Either way, he thought up of something quick. “Since I’m a detective, and most of the guys around the precinct who’re connected are cops…let’s just say I got access to more evidence than they do. Information they don’t get before we pass it along.”

“You gonna tamper with evidence and hand deliver info first, then?”

He nodded. “I’ve burnt some things already just so my partner can’t find out I’ve been taking bribes, if that helps.”

“Yeah? What bribes?”

Again with more questions. Ren would’ve sighed if it didn’t blow his cover, but instead, he pushed up his glasses, letting the reflection above the chandelier shine back. “Let’s just say a pretty lady knew how to polish my pole nicely,” he said, adding in an air-jerking motion, “in exchange for not ratting out her husband, and now I want more…”

These idiots probably know only one thing…

With approving nods, all the men around him agreed. “Alright man…you really must be starving like a virgin.” They burst out laughing again. “I ain’t ever seen some guy so desperate, but hey, he’ll straighten you out! And hey, who knows? You might like it when they’re beggin’ for more with some drugs in ‘em!”

Just in time, the bartender came over with a platter of drinks, all five single malt whiskeys for them to enjoy. After setting it down, all of them raised the glass for a toast. Ren was the first to down a good chug of the whiskey. He was already prepared for its inevitable burn, but it was nothing in comparison to how bad he felt, saying all those things earlier. Instinctively, he grabbed a napkin nearby and wiped his hands clean, then his mouth. “Never gonna get used to that,” he uttered, shaking himself out of that alcoholic kick.

“You come here often, detective?” The eyepatched man asked, taking a sip from his whiskey. “Never seen ya ‘round here.”

“...You can say that.” Ren replied, licking his lips. “I come here when it’s convenient. I can’t be here for long, either.”

Really starting to hate how easy it is to lie, too.

“Aw c’mon, Detective Amamiya, we’re growing to be fast friends, ain’t we?” Mr. Faux-Hawk asked. “You can excuse your lateness to say you’re catchin’ up with some friends, can’t ya?”

He shook his head. “Love to, but I did say I was here for work. If I stay out, they might catch me shit-faced already,” he chuckled at his own bad joke, before brushing his hand against the napkin again. “How about this: You can text me the address and I’ll swing by later?”

“Uh, sure. Gimme your phone?” He asked, pulling out his own phone at the ready.

Ren did the same, handing it over and in exchange tapping his phone number in. By the end of it, he somehow successfully managed to dupe some criminals into believing he wanted to sleep with some easy women tonight, shaking each individual hand. 

Introductions would come later - and by that, Ren didn’t care for their names whatsoever. He paid for the first round as promised, and left. When he exited the bar, Ren couldn’t help but wipe his hand across his dress shirt multiple times.

Outside, hovering as Ren got reacquainted with his surroundings, Ren overheard the guys inside talk again, now muffled.

“...fuckin’ weird, ain’t he?”

“Ain’t we all weird…we want…girls?”

He shook his head in disappointment. Gotta burn this fucking thing when I get home…

And before Ren could go home, he still had one stop to get back to, riding the train back to their offices. By the time he reached the entrance, he chanced upon meeting Chie on her way out.

“Hey,” Ren greeted her. “You going out for lunch?”

“Hey yourself!” Chie smiled, pulling out her hand to wave at him from her green jacket. “Y’know, shotgun’s always ready for a partner, if you want?”

“I already ate,” Ren responded, chuckling and scratching the back of his head. “Sorry.”

She sighed and chuckled along. “Well, guess Aki’ll have to do! Tell ‘em I’ll be waiting, yeah?”

Ren nodded. “Sure,” he said. As he was about to go back in, taking the first step up the set of stairs, he turned back around. “Chie-chan.”

She turned back around, pulling out her hands from her pockets again. “What’s up? You change your mind?”

He went back down the steps, and unexpectedly did something that’d probably make him feel better. Out of nowhere, Ren immediately bowed deeply. “Thank you for everything.”

“Whoa whoa whoa there!” Chie exclaimed, backing off, and  “What’s gotten into you?”

Without answering the question, Ren pulled out his wallet and some additional yen, extending his hand out so Chie could take the money. “Get yourself something extra.”

“Uh…” Chie droned, reluctantly taking his money. She pocketed it, and pursed her lips. “Thanks…? Seriously dude, what’s up?”

“Just…” Ren nervously chuckled. “Just consider it a thanks for what you did that night for me. I’ll tell Akihiko to meet you, don’t worry.”

“...Sure,” Chie reluctantly said, brushing strands of her bob hair back. “You’re welcome any time.”

Quickly, Ren ascended back up the stairs and, just before Chie disappeared out of sight, nodded. He shut the door behind him, and entered into the precinct. Wandering the hallways back into his office, he had the luxury of not bumping into anybody unpleasant. After the dust settled, Ren pulled out his notebook and immediately ripped out the sheet of notes he wrote on, and inserted it into the paper shredder - one less piece of evidence to tie him back to this investigation.

Just like that, work continued on. He texted Akihiko that Chie was waiting for him, went back to investigating the cause of the subway station massacre, and that was that for the night. Even when he knew the truth, he simply couldn’t just say it outright without blowing his and Akechi’s cover. So instead, with his usual intuition, he sent everybody else off on an investigation of their own into linking their deaths with his apartment burning down. Two birds, one stone.

Come the evening, Ren received a text from one of the boys back at the bar, the address of where Shido would be. As promised for Akechi, he texted his confirmation that tonight was the night to a relatively unknown number, listed as “Goromi Hazama”. It was close to his shift ending enough, it couldn’t have been more convenient. Pocketing his phone and packing up, Ren began to make his exit…

Until he ran into Makoto on the way out. 

“Ren-kun!” She called out to him in the hallway, just as Ren was locking up his office. He shuffled to the noise, meeting Makoto’s gaze with his own.

“Hey,” Ren said. “Got the okay to go home early today.”

Makoto nodded and chuckled. “So I heard. How’ve you been holding up in these months? Sis and I are still worried about you.”

Ren chuckled back and wandered his gaze over to the fluorescent lights. “It’s going alright. Much as I love your place, my friend’s house isn’t so bad.” He lifted his hands up and slapped them back down. “It’s not getting burnt down, now is it?”

“There is that,” Makoto pointed and agreed. “Speaking of, do you think I could…come visit sometime?”

As much as Ren wanted to say yes, he simply couldn’t. Instead, he shook his head disappointingly. “My friend is…one of those hikikomori types. Pretty withdrawn - hard to talk to. I only met them during university because they needed help with a group assignment…”

Another lie, of course. Ren scratched his fluffy hair again. “Maybe some day.”

After some reluctance, Makoto laughed and shook her head. “Are…are you hunkering down with Futaba at Leblanc? Is that what’s going on?”

Ren almost breathed a sigh of relief but laughed along. “No, good lord…but now that you mention it, it’s pretty similar. It’s not Futaba.”

“Does she spend all her time on the computer, wear goggles indoors, and do some light hacking?”

Ren shook his head. “No, she doesn’t. They’re just reserved.”

And with that, Makoto took Ren’s lie again. She shrugged. “What can you do, really…?”

To ensure that he had a full alibi, Ren looked around the hallway. Nobody was around. A pit in his stomach lurched around, remembering how distasteful the interaction was earlier. “Makoto.” He called out her name, even though she was still there.

“What is it?” She asked, getting a bit closer to him.

Like Chie, Ren deeply bowed in her presence. “Sorry. I really should be doing better with you.”

“...What?” Makoto asked, tilting her head. “What’s this all about?”

“I haven’t been around with you too much. Distant, even. For that, I have to make it up to you at some point.”

Makoto stammered, trying to be delicate about the situation. “Uh…well,” her mirth turned awkward. “I-it’s perfectly okay…I get that you’re stressed from what happened and…and well, you know…”

He raised himself back up, sighing. “I promise, I will make it up to you. As your partner.”

“O-of course,” Makoto said meekly, twirling a bit of hair around her finger. “And here I thought meeting up at Crossroads a few days ago was fine by me…”

Ren let out a bit of false laughter. “Forgive me. Just for not being there.”

“Apology accepted,” Makoto said, warmly smiling. “You don’t ever have to do that, though.”

Yes I do…and I can never forgive enough for what I’m about to do.

Ren swallowed, and nodded. “Well…see you.”

So it goes. Ren quietly left the precinct. Along the way, a part of his hands tingled at the thought of what would happen tonight. He tugged at his backpack just a little tighter on the walk to the station, steadying himself once he got underground. All around him, he felt discomfort about the plan.

This was not okay. It was the farthest from being okay he’d ever been, because at least he could steel himself with criminals. Diving deep into a lion’s den of abhorrent filth was not something he ever imagined himself to be doing, and alone, even knowing Akechi would be right behind him when the time came.

Maybe his indecision came from the fact all he’d been asked to do was kill, and have it matter. Now, that gnawing feeling demanded he save and it be the right decision. As the train rode along back to Meguro Ward, the female announcer onboard the train droning about the next stop, and the wheels scratching to a halt, Ren faced the roof, and its lighting. He almost saw the light flicker once again, and his chest tightening up.

March 13th, 20XX
Late Evening
Ren and Akechi’s Safehouse

When Ren departed from the train station, he felt an unnatural calm overcome his senses. Across alleyways and before he reached the abandoned complex, he noticed something new that’d never been there before: a black motorbike, unattended by anybody else. Cautiously, he approached it, and looked around in the darkness. The only light illuminating it was a singular, blinking lamppost.

Thinking nothing of it, Ren hurried back into the safehouse, entering into the 11th floor. Already, Akechi was waiting for him. Donned in her usual attire of a ripped cloak, surgical black mask, and leather from the top down, additional features included a sling for the serrated katana and an aluminum bat on her back, a holster for the pistol, and a small bag around her waist for extra magazines.

Already armed to the teeth, she stood in silence, staring out into the Shibuya skylines. As Ren set his backpack down and took off his coat to put on the hanger, Akechi proceeded to glide over to him without much of a sound. Her hand touched his shoulder gently. “Your phone?”

Ren almost flinched, but quietly fetched the phone out of his pocket after reorienting himself. He handed it over to Akechi, and ran over to the kitchen. “Is that your bike outside?”

She didn’t respond, only memorizing the address. In the meanwhile, Ren rinsed his hands, taking off his glasses and put them to the side in order to wash his face. With cold water rushing into his pores, Ren felt somewhat refreshed, but nevertheless uneasy at the situation that would unfold tonight. 

Eventually, she turned over to him. “It is.” She slid the phone over the kitchen countertop, back to Ren’s possession. “If you’re ready, I suggest we move.”

He did. Both of them went down the elevator for the night, after Ren finished gussying up for the night. There’d be no need for a coat for the night. Upon descending to the ground floor, Akechi got on the bike and ignited the engine, letting its motor roar loudly into the quiet suburbs. Ren reluctantly got on, understandably so due to the fact there was no safety helmet, but there was no time for safety.

He didn’t know where to hold onto. To the best of his abilities, Ren opted to hold closely onto Akechi’s waist, trying his best to stay away from the weaponry and not touch anything inappropriately. Unusually, Akechi…had no response to any of this. She remained focused on the road ahead, as the bike jerked forward at a rapid pace.

Ren was not used to being on a bike. In fact, it didn’t do anything to help ease his mind while the cloaked folds billowed in the wind, the high-pitched whine of the engine boring into his ears. Akechi didn’t even stop for any red lights, often taking shortcuts he didn’t even know existed, or on quieter streets. With utmost caution, Ren only hid in the back so he couldn’t be detected. The only bit of comfort was the wind blowing through his hair.

The plan was simple enough for his tastes. All he needed to do was get inside, get to a position where he could meet Shido, confirm where he was staying for the night, and inevitably leave before anything major occurred. The only woman he’d be touching wasn’t going to be anybody at the location of, where he assumed, was a brothel. If things go south, such as him failing to get inside. Then, and only then, would things get messy - and he only could hope it wouldn’t. Outside of the obvious criminals operating inside, nobody else needed to be disposed of.

But…Akechi had been waiting for this moment for a long, long time. All of it hinged on her being patient, or playful enough that he could direct that chaos where she needed to be. With a sharp corner turned, Ren jerked forward, brushing up closer to Akechi before they slowed down.

“Sorry,” Ren admitted, scooting back out. Once again, Akechi said nothing, only accelerating when a long stretch of asphalt presented itself.

Is she…okay? 

Ren pondered it for a moment as the neon lights rushed past him in a meaningless rainbow of light. Come to think of it, she could also be nervous too. When he was gripping her, there was a light shiver emanating from her body. Yet…if she wasn’t, she’d be her usual playful self.

It could be mission-based nerves. This was, after all, the underbelly of reality that most people do not ever get to see for themselves. It’s the harsh truth detectives like himself must uncover, and only through extensive searches. Even still, the implications of where he was at all times, and how laws were…nothing about it sat well.

The alternative was, of course, Ren feeling a sense of dread by the presence in front of him. Even as he saw someone he was getting too comfortable with, it didn’t ever persuade him to look the other way of who she was. Her words were not to be taken lightly. But, if Akechi could be profoundly gentle…she could also be capable of reason.

The rest of the ride went without much incident. To be discreet was imperative. Ren got off first, and the engine cut off when Akechi did as well, and the silence seeped in. Shortly afterwards, cars rushed on by, headlights illuminating their little space briefly. Ren took the time to adjust his footing. Over in the distance, he noticed the sign saying something about ‘men’s virile health’. Sure enough, they were at the right place, considering how easy it was to know it was a front.

With a deep breath, Ren turned his gaze over to Akechi. “I suppose our signal can be through texts. I don’t see any other way unless I go outside.”

Akechi came up to him fairly quickly, and without warning. She got intimately close, leaning into Ren. Pulling the surgical mask down, she gave a warm smile to him. “I am running so many thoughts in my head right now.” Her arms slid around his neck, and pulled him in closer. “Honey…that’s what you called me last time.”

Silence encompassed the two of them, as Ren quietly listened to her breath, feeling its warmth touch his skin. She wet her lips, and got even closer, laying her head on his shoulder. By then, Ren enveloped his own arms around her. “Just focus on the mission for me, okay…?”

Awkwardly, Ren nodded. He usually was okay with her brushing up against him like this but…something about it still felt off. Less…controlled, more hiding. It only made a part of his spine roll up a small chill.

Softly, Akechi pulled back, stealing a glance at him before pulling her mask back up. “My man is always so cute…” She giggled to herself, letting Ren go and retreating back into the shadows. She gave him an affirming nod, and he looked one last time towards her before heading out into the street. Looking both ways, ensuring no cars were passing through to hit him, Ren crossed the street, hands in his pockets, and made his way to the building.

It’s showtime.

The heavy and metallic door before him felt like a weight he had to push through at the start of this infiltration. The entrance alone was already unassuming - a quiet, lonely reception desk with nobody operating it was found upon first entry. The checkered floor patterns and a very tacky 90’s inspired beaded curtain separated the waiting area ahead. Some light and indistinct muttering was going on past the area, and he saw life in the form of a foot jumping up and down.

As he advanced forward, he saw a woman stand back up from behind the reception desk. With a mole on her lower lip, bob-like hair colored dark, and a beautifully teal pencil dress with an intricate hexagonal pattern, her dark eyes gazed over to Ren.

“Hello.” Ren greeted. “I’m here for --”

“My,” the receptionist mused, her tone light and sultry. “Our clinic is closed for the night sweetheart, you’ll have to come back in the morning if you want medicine.”

“I’m not here for medicine, actually.” Ren corrected. He placed his hands behind his back. “I’m actually here…to help steer Japan in the right direction.” He added.

The receptionist changed her tone then, an impish smirk rolling across her face. “Ah…that does certainly change things…”

She wet her lips then, moving across the counter to reveal herself further, high heels clacking on the ceramic flooring. Closer and closer, she approached him, rolling her fingers across his shirt. “Tell me…what’s a handsome young man like you doing at such a place like this? Surely you can get anybody you please…”

I gotta keep the facade…so…let’s play her game.

An equally impish smirk came over Ren’s features, as he was being encircled by the receptionist. Placing a hand in his pockets, he tried his best to follow her slithering around. “I’m here for the politician. But if you certainly insist on me grabbing someone…”

He trailed her arm, quietly lingering as she was around him, and grabbed it. “Could I perhaps spend the night with you?”

Stunned, but not entirely surprised, the receptionist gave a hearty laugh. “You’ve quite the balls, young man…” She freed her hands from his grasp, and returned over to the reception desk, leaning over. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not for sale.”

She didn’t miss another beat of silence, clasping her hands together. “However, I am certain my girls will satisfy your every desire tonight. Head behind the curtains! From there, your man will be at the far end of the hallway, on the last door to your right.”

When he went over to the beaded curtains, the woman quietly approached him again. “If it’s all the same however…” She leaned in to whisper to him. “Should you impress our man, I may bend the rules a bit...”

He wasn’t sure whether or not to thank them, but it felt safer not to. He only nodded, and proceeded forward as he heard the receptionist chuckle to herself. Being his usual self wasn’t the thing Ren needed to be doing right now.

At the entrance to the door were four guards, shirtless and with unfinished tattoos on their backs. They were merely chilling out, looking sweaty. Even without any context, he knew what they were doing whilst being on the job. None of them paid him any mind, having overheard the conversation between him and the receptionist, chuckling to themselves. “Come on in.” The guard closest to the door beckoned. With the twist of the doorknob that was labeled “Closet”, Ren made his way past the door, and it slowly receded.

Considering the depravity of what he read on Shido’s file, it felt more par for the course than he imagined. He was certain there’d be more than only women behind these walls…especially if the receptionist was into him.

Before him was a narrow hallway filled with several doors, and dim lights. When he first took a few steps, what assaulted his ears from the door on his left was sounds of aggravated moaning and very loud slaps. He pretended not to hear it, and advanced forward into the main foyer area. The acrid smell of smoke permeated the air, causing Ren’s throat to become irritated. He let out a small cough, being forced to take shallower breaths.

Over in the distance, he spotted a familiar figure with his arms around a prostitute, wearing nothing but exposing, sexy, laced underwear that didn’t even cover what was important. Instead, her lengthy black hair covered her breasts, and she was already pressing her thighs together in a needy fashion. With the man focused ahead of him, his eyes turned over to Ren. It was Mr. Faux-Hawk.

“‘Eyy, there’s my guy!” Mr. Faux-Hawk said, giving him finger-guns. “You made it.”

“Sure did…” Ren said, rubbing his arm. “Where’s uh…”

The man stopped him right then and there. “Sure the girl in the front already said, but he’s in the real far back, last door on the right.”

“Thanks,” Ren said absentmindedly. He didn’t advance another step before Faux-Hawk grabbed his sleeve, forcing him to turn his gaze back. “Make sure you find yourself a nice girl first…claim her as yours, ‘fore someone else decides she’s their fuck for the rest of the night, yeah?”

“...Sure.” Ren said, falsely smirking. To sell it further, he flicked his gaze over to the prostitute, an obvious gesture she caught on. She, in return, looked away. Even if the lights were dim, Ren could sense she had a bead falling down her brow.

“Ya hear that, slut? He’s already takin’ a fancy to ya!” Faux-Hawk laughed, moving forward to an empty, unoccupied room after the fact.

I’ll apologize to you later…sorry.

Ren went deeper inside. He already encountered the rest of the guys around the bar earlier. Most of them were indulging in drugs, cutting and lining up cocaine and smoking other narcotics Ren wasn’t about to try and figure out. The sheer sleaziness of it all already made him feel sick, and it wasn’t just the smoke in the air.

Though he wasn’t seen, Ren saw a handful of bad cops off-duty spending the night here, both men and women on the force. In particular, the woman he saw was already keeping two male prostitutes on a leash. He’d seen them around the precinct, though they often never crossed paths outside of the hallway. He kept his distance, and hid his face wherever possible so as to not raise suspicions.

 Some of them were indulging a little too much in festivities, accompanied by men in pinstriped suits and notable tattoos covered by their sleeves. Despite its rather completely ‘upstanding’ nature, Ren noticed several women looking as if they were injured, or tending to their wounds the further he got inside. 

Most looked barely legal, and shouldn’t have been hanging around here. Few gave him looks, and the others paid no attention to him on the way down the hallway. Others quietly wept to themselves…and Ren couldn’t do anything to help.

Upon reaching the end of the hallway, Ren found the last door promptly left open ajar. He tried peering through it, only finding a brown and shiny oxford shoe dangling off of another foot. Heavy, acrid smoke billowed out from the room. Backing off, Ren promptly knocked on the door twice.

An elongated sigh was his answer, followed by a large clack of the shoes on the floor. “I believed we agreed, when my smoke was done, you would come in?”

The voice, angered by this disruption, sent Ren back a step further as he flinched. It was indeed Shido behind that door as he swung it open. Before him was a bald and orange-tinted, bespectacled man with a goatee and an untidy, white dress shirt, towering a few inches above him, cigarette only just recently lit up in his hand.

Ash stained the carpet as a piece of it fell onto the floor, and although he couldn’t see it, Ren saw the belt buckle loosened around Shido’s waist, and black slacks. At the very least, he had common decency to answer the door not naked. Shido’s eyes narrowed as his brows furrowed. “Who the fuck is this brat…?” He stepped out, looking around to see if anybody else was around Ren. There was no one, and much to the chagrin of the politician before him, he groaned loudly. “I don’t recall asking for you.”

Ren swallowed, eyes meeting Shido’s through his shades. Clearing his throat, he extended his hand out. “Are you Masayoshi Shido?” He asked. Shido only shot a quick glance at the hand before meeting back up with his eyes.

“So you know me.” He said, bluntly.

“Detective Ren Amamiya,” Ren announced, giving a wildly overconfident smile, enough that it would've seemed enthusiastic enough to hide the lie. He reached out his hand, awaiting a handshake. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sir.”

After a few moments, it seemed like that was all it took for Shido to ease up from his tension…or so he thought. He took Ren’s hand into a firm handshake, one he was not expecting. “Hmm. Another sellout from the precinct, come for a favor, have we?”

Suddenly, Ren felt a forced tug pull him into Shido’s personal space. “Who sent you? Was it Kiyoshi?”

Stunned, Ren blurted out, “Onizuka,” before getting tossed back out of the doorframe. “Officer Onizuka referred me to you, sir…”

He’s certainly Akechi’s father, alright…good lord.

A small bead of sweat dripped down Ren’s forehead as he took a breather. “He asked me to find some people around Bar Alba in the afternoon earlier today and…”

Shido scoffed, rolling his eyes. “That buffoon should’ve informed me beforehand,” he angrily muttered to himself, taking a quick puff of his cigarette, blowing smoke in Ren’s direction. He shook his head, barely giving Ren any attention. “And to what do I owe the pleasure then, detective? Are you here for a courtesy call?”

“I uh…” Ren paused, standing back up straight. Once more, he cleared his throat. “I was hoping I could assist you in your efforts to make Japan better.”

“And what, pray tell, do you offer?”

Quick to the point. If it didn’t blow his cover again and ask unnecessary questions, he would’ve laughed at the moment. Instead, he maintained composure and proceeded on. “The cops you’re working with are too slow. I’m a detective, I get information straight from the source, days before it’s ever released. That, and I can burn more evidence for you.”

Like a rehearsal, Ren nailed this lie down, even if it made him feel sick. It’d become so second-nature to him. For results, yes. For anything else above board, no.

After a long while and a few more puffs of his cigarette, Shido conceded. “Alright, detective. You’ve piqued my interest…what’s your angle?”

“Women,” Ren coughed out. “That’s always the answer, isn’t it?”

That sour note hit the back of Ren’s mouth again. He swallowed to get rid of it.

Rolling his eyes, Shido took off his glasses and wiped them with his shirt. “Quite. And I suppose you happen to have your eyes on one?”

Now, it was really going farther than Ren had initially planned. Turning back around towards the larger room outside of the hallway, he saw someone with shoulder-length hair the color of burnt umber walk around. Unlike most girls, she was dressed modestly…albeit, that was a very low bar to cross. Immediately, Ren pointed over to her. “That one caught my eye.”

Shido grinned wickedly. “Ah…you’ve similar tastes to mine,” he said, chuckling. A piercing whistle disrupted the ambience, and suddenly the woman Ren was ‘interested’ in, turned around and came rushing immediately towards the both of them. She got on her knees, and bowed down.

“Shido-sama…” Her voice croaked out, worriedly. “What is it you need?”

“Stand up!” Shido’s voice cracked through the air, causing Ren to flinch. They were only having a nice conversation mere moments ago, yelling was not necessary. In a panic, the woman got up from her knees and braced. “Look at me,” he commanded. The woman did so, hesitantly. For how slow she was, Shido raised his hand up. Ren immediately knew what he was about to do.

Out of instinct, or simply because it was the right thing to do, he rushed to the woman’s side. His mind didn’t even catch up to what his body was doing by the time the palm of Shido made a hefty crack with his cheek, enough to send his head sideways, and his glasses skittering onto the floor below. His vision blurred, not due to the lack of frames, and his ears slightly rang from disorientation.

By the time he managed to get back to standing up straight, Ren sucked in a deep breath, and glowered at Shido. He felt a strong sense of fury overcome him as he balled his fists, yet it seemed Shido was more preoccupied that Ren could’ve done such a thing.

I mustn’t. 

But it’s what his fist wanted to do, so badly.

I can’t!

The mission came first.

No matter how much this fucking guy deserves it…

There’ll be a worse punishment than a broken nose, or a jaw.

With another soft breath, Ren unballed his fist, but kept his brows furrowed. He said nothing, only lightly touching where he was slapped. It stung, obviously…but it’d be better it was him than someone else.

“Get out of the way, you brat.” Shido commanded, winding up his hand for another smack. 

But Ren? Ren stayed exactly where he was, no longer wearing his usual frames. He remained undeterred, standing right in front of a woman he had only just met.

Shido sneered. “You fucking…” He groaned loudly. “Each and every woman here are nothing but my bitches. Surely you understand the cost of defying me.”

“Then understand this,” Ren said, flatly. “I don’t like my merchandise damaged.”

It only made Shido roll his eyes as he lifted his cigarette up to his mouth. “Fine.”

His attention turned over to the woman, and he urged Ren to back down. Instead of coming over to slap her, he leaned down. “Tonight, you are to service this man before me.” With a puff of smoke, he inhaled deeply before blowing the smoke in her face. “Should you fail, you will be punished. Severely.”

The woman, however, stared longingly at Ren, wide-eyed and mouth half-agape. Even if it was dim, Ren could’ve sworn she had a flushed face. Was it out of embarrassment, or something more?

Inevitably, she turned to face Shido and bowed deeply. “Y…Yes sir!” She shouted, not daring to stand back up immediately to make eye contact with him.

Shido sniffed, readjusting his dress shirt. “Good.” His voice returned to a lower volume. “Take him. And get the fuck out of my sight.”

The woman immediately readjusted her posture, and took Ren by his hand. Just before they turned, Shido wasn’t done yet. “Stop right there,” he said, voice echoing to the two of them. “On second thought…I’m in a bad mood tonight, no thanks to you two. You’ll be punished after my session. It’s only fair, you made me lower myself to your level.”

A small bit of shaking tugged at Ren now, as he noted the woman jerking in motion at the thought. Before long, she gave a solemn, yet unnerved nod at Shido’s response, and quickened her pace towards the room. With both of them inside, she shut the door, turning the lock so nobody else would disturb them.

Biting his lower lip, Ren took a deep sigh and stared out to the wall, and not to her. Only briefly did he turn his head to address her. “I…don’t want to do anything you don’t want.”

She didn’t respond initially, and Ren could only hear stifled gasps and quiet crying. “I-I’m sorry,” she whispered out. “I never…I never meant to…” She couldn’t finish the thought.

Ren sat down on the floor, leaning towards the bedpost and still refused to look at her. “I’m fine. I did what I had to.”

Curling up his legs, he cradled it with his arms and stared at his surroundings instead. Lights inside were a fair shade of pink, there was a TV playing nothing, a cabinet with lube, a box of condoms, an old landline phone, and tissues laying on top of it, and across from him was the door leading into the bathroom.

Ren remained there for some time. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, contemplating whether it’d be alright to contact Akechi. There were more pressing matters at hand, which was simply handling this woman’s safety with sincerity. The mission…well, this was the mission now. He was deep in it, gathering info. It’s what detectives do.

He stared longingly at his phone screen, tapping the lock and unlock button, checking the time while he was at it. He didn’t know how long he’d been at it, but it certainly felt longer than 10 minutes sitting in silence, hearing the muffled sounds of partying, of loud moaning across other doors, of the occasional car rolling down empty streets.

Closing his eyes briefly, Ren gave himself a nod. Just as he was about to flick open the lock screen, he heard a quick shuffling from the bed. “Who’re you contacting…?”

Startled, Ren’s eyes shot over to the voice. Meeting her swollen eyes, the woman was now looking at him with remnants of tears dripping down. She sniffled and wiped away any residue, and he cautiously stood up.

“I was thinking about it but…” He trailed off, pocketing his phone again, smiling. To maintain consistency, Ren backed off and leaned into the wall. “...I’m Detective Amamiya. You never told me your name.”

“...Amamiya-san.” The woman addressed him, voice still cracking. She adjusted her position again, now sitting on the bed. “I’ve…long forgotten my old name. I just go by Mina here,” she bowed to him then, then lifted her head back up. “You…you’re not like the others.”

Rolling a palm on the back of his neck, Ren softly chuckled. “I’m not here for any girls. I’m running undercover.” Quietly, he rolled his fingers over the impact of the slap again. Its pain was dulling, yet it persisted a lot longer than he cared to admit. “Cost of doing business.”

“...Why did you do it?” She asked, softly. Mina almost slipped out of the bedpost, trying to stand back up. “No one’s ever…”

Ren pursed his lips, meeting up with her eyes again as a previously unseen glint reflected back in her. Right now, to say it was the right thing to do felt tired, or at least generic. But…the more he looked, the more he saw someone he cared about in her.

Maybe it was the hair color, or the way she looked at him. Or, the way she presented herself when she was vulnerable. Or maybe, just maybe…that was him being crazy and retrofitting something that didn’t line up, knowing the person he was thinking about could never be this vulnerable with him. It was a nice thought, though, and one where he let loose a genuine smile.

“You just remind me of someone,” Ren said warmly. “And I want to protect her, too.”

The moment lingered a little too long in silence, before Ren backed off and laughed at his own expense. “Um, you’re not her, but - let me rephrase.” He cleared his throat. “If I can protect you, then maybe…I can change her heart.”

Mina just nodded. She sniffled again, softly exhaling as she wiped away more tears. Her hands were awkwardly reaching out for him, but Ren didn’t quite understand. He tilted his head, remaining in silence. Before long, he felt a quiet tug by Mina, forcing him to get closer to her, into an embrace.

It gave him pause, his arms filling an empty space behind Mina as she buried half of her face into his shoulder. Ren felt her shaken demeanor slowly fade, but he wasn’t quite too sure if he was supposed to tighten up his arms around her. Instead, he let it dangle, just enough not to keep her close, if she wanted to pull away.

For just one moment, he let his mind wander elsewhere, envisioning somebody else in his arms instead. It was, truthfully, just wishful thinking on his own part.

Then a blood-curdling scream rang out.

Chapter Text

March 13th, 20XX
Late Evening
???

A marriage is much the same as being accomplices with one another. It’s a relationship between two people who have sworn their futures to each other, a relationship in which betrayal, external or internal, is absolutely not forgiven.

There are wars waged in battlefields, and there are others right beside each other across the dining table. Lovers may fall into bed, while others may fall into silence and nurture from afar. The most dangerous ones are the ones who fall into rhythm, like predators circling each other around a raging fire.

Ren immediately got out of Mina’s arms when the sounds of screaming occurred. In a panic, he turned over to her briefly, watching her visage turn into that of confusion. “What’s going on?”

He had an idea. Unfortunately…it was a bad one. Ren pushed a finger up to his own lips, pressing his ear up against the door. Panic set in outside, and he nervously swallowed.

This is not good…Akechi, what are you doing?

He turned back over to Mina, pursing his lips. With a deep sigh, and balled fists, he knew what was to be done. “Stay here. Keep the door locked. I’ll be back for you, alright?”

She nodded then, as Ren exited out of the door. When he went outside, multiple prostitutes were running away into the corner, only to get reminded…Shido was at the far end of it all, pants undone and shirtless. The woman he was with was still inside, cowering. Quietly, she beckoned anybody else who might’ve wanted to be safe to get inside the room with her. 

Shido only pushed those coming towards him away. “What is this…?” He asked bluntly to himself. His gaze quickly shot over to Ren, and his expression turned into anger. “Detective. Why don’t you go do what you do best and investigate?”

All the way down the hallway, he saw the receptionist, crawling on the floor with a blood trail behind her. Her eyes were widened with shock, and amidst the chaos of all that was happening, sounds of fighting were muffled behind the wall.

Doors slammed in quick succession, until the chaos died down inside. Familiar faces surrounded him - Mr. Faux-Hawk, his own gang members, several other criminals, dirty cops, and bodyguards belonging to Shido, who were retreating in the back to protect him. A loud slam towards the reinforced door split the silence briefly.

With no other choice, Ren ran towards the source, pushing several prostitutes out of the way gently, apologizing softly so as to not raise suspicion. Before he could get far, a female voice shouted out to him. “Detective Amamiya?!”

He stopped in his tracks, feeling a large amount of heat rise up towards his face.

Shit…

He turned to it, attention focused on the voice. It was one of the precinct’s policewomen…somehow having found out he was here. “It is you…” she murmured. Pulling out a gun, she hid behind one of the corridor walls. “What’re you doing here? Y’know what, never mind…”

He didn’t have time to think about it. Running towards the walls with her, the best thing he could do now was pretend. All around him, innocent people - prostitutes of both genders, locked the doors to protect themselves. Those who couldn’t only ran to the far back, not that it was any better with Shido around. “I don’t have my gun on me. You know --”

“Then fucking stay behind me,” she barked, taking aim. “God damn Kaneshiro…couldn’t have hired more security for this shit?!”

Another harsh slam against the reinforced wall, followed by another scream. The receptionist crawled closer to Ren, her breathing shallow and uneven. Her pace slowed, as she was struggling to get anywhere. “P-please…please help…” She cried out desperately, her whole figure shaking to move forward.

Ren did what he could. Taking a grab of both of her arms, he dragged her to the nearest chair as she groaned loudly in pain. He helped her sit upright, taking notice of her wounds.

It was, for a lack of better terms, grotesque. Beyond his own wildest imaginations, her ankles were lucky to even be attached still. They were destroyed, flesh ripped apart and slashed beyond the point of saving. Even if he wasn’t directly part of the carnage, Ren couldn’t help but feel as if his own were sliced.

“T-the…the Kurozukume…!” The receptionist cried out. “It was him…!”

Another harsh pounding against the wall forced everybody to turn their attention over to the doorway. Now, another muffled scream cried out from behind the door, lasting only moments before the silence.

“I happened to have overheard the conversation.” Shido said, approaching all three of them. “To think they’ve arrived…”

“The Black Mask?” The policewoman asked, pulling away from the wall. “What the fuck is…” Her sentence trailed off once she realized…Ren was here. She furrowed her eyes deeply and snarled. “You motherfucker…”

She pointed the gun at him, as Ren raised his arms up. “You led her here, didn’t you?” He couldn’t say anything, and she only pressed harder, gun waving around. “DIDN’T YOU?!”

Now, all eyes were on him. Shido’s gaze pierced him, as he removed his orange shades. “Detective Amamiya…is this true?”

Even if Ren could say something, it’d only make it worse. He could see that she was shaking now, and of course…who wouldn’t? Even a small lingering fear from the politician before him was seen, if not outright sensed. Everybody within the department knew of Akechi’s capabilities. If, somehow, someone were within the vicinity of a serial killer and knew who they were, they’d be quaking in their boots too.

“...Her?” The receptionist murmured, flicking her attention back and forth towards Ren and the police officer. “Wait…t-the…it’s…a woman…?!”

“You have failed me, Aoi.” Shido replied back, taking a look at the receptionist. “And now, thanks to you, all of the girls you brought to me are here to die.”

“I didn’t know,” Ren replied, remaining calm, redirecting the attention back to him. The less said about Akechi right now, the better. “I came here for the reasons Officer Onizuka told me. How was I --”

“SHUT UP!” She yelled at him again, now pointing the gun further - and onto his temple. “If she doesn’t kill you, then we’ll know!”

Shido gave a smirk. “I’m inclined to agree. Why don’t we dispose of this…trash, officer?”

And so, Ren’s plan fell into shambles.

God fucking damn it.

Slowly now, the door opened after the knob turned gently. A loud groan announced itself in the process. Distracted, the policewoman forcibly turned back to the hallway. “Stay back!” She yelled at the opening. “We got guns aimed right at the door!”

“Wait…” A loud, groaning voice cried out far away, just behind the reinforced door. “Please…”

In retaliation, the policewoman fired into the hallway, emptying out the chambers of her Nanbu revolver. Every bullet entered into the reinforced door, and one seemed to pierce through it, leading to the man gurgling his last breath. From there, his body slumped forward as the door opened wider.

Ren could see that the lights were shot out from the reception room, leaving the deliberate flickering of lights in the wake of the destruction. He was certain that, when he walked in tonight, he didn’t remember the walls in the back being painted that shade of red, from what little he could see any time the lights illuminated it.

He didn’t have time to sit around anymore - suddenly, he was grabbed by the policewoman, with her arm wrapped around his neck tightly and forced to stand up. Briefly, as he was being manhandled, he caught a glimpse of Shido retreating to the far back, surrounded by his guards.

He struggled initially, only to feel the cold barrel planted right next to his skull.

“What’re you doing, officer?” He asked, squirming around in her grip. “You know this isn’t how teams work --”

“You talk again, and I’ll shut you up with a bullet in your mouth,” she responded back in anger. “Men!” She called out, having a handful of people - a mix of criminals and police alike, line up with her, guns drawn. “Cover me!”

Forcibly, Ren and the policewoman were leading the pseudo-charge forward to the reinforced door. Nobody else emerged out of it after the guard perished. As they got closer, he couldn’t help but notice…

That man was brutally hacked apart. Heavy lacerations were all over his body now, oozing dark liquid out as the floor pooled with an inhuman amount of blood. He swallowed nervously, as he approached the long hallway outwards.

“Come the fuck out, Black Mask, I got your boyfriend here with me!”

There wasn’t even a peep of anything, just light sounds of crackling electricity and the drip of blood. The void had chosen to answer in Akechi’s stead, as Ren remained quiet. Eventually however…a sinister laugh echoed out in the distance. The revolver's hammer pulled back. “I’m warning you, dipshit…” She spoke softly. “You don’t come out, he’s dead.”

What happened next occurred so fast, Ren couldn’t even register it in time. Four silenced bullets were fired in rapid succession, each splattering the men covering the policewoman behind her. He only felt a warm dampness splatter on his clothes, and the grip against him went free. 

From the darkness, a shadowy figure emerged with bloodstained rivulets, and the length of the serrated blade appeared next to him, drenched in a shade of crimson. A wet slump dipped to the ground, and Ren’s eyes widened at how quick the air permeated itself with a deep, unsettling chill. He quickly turned around.

The policewoman was now missing an entire arm, and even she didn’t register the fact she no longer had any advantage whatsoever. Ren briefly checked the floor, his shoes were found staining themselves in blood as well. He took a step back, denoting that her severed arm was still holding onto the pistol…

Eyes widened in shock, Ren opened his mouth, only for it to be met with an ear-piercing scream erupting instead.

The policewoman fell to her knees, the pain registering with her. Naturally, her other arm reached over to something that was no longer there, a massive amount of her own dark liquid spraying uncontrollably out onto the walls inside and her own palm. “W-what THE FUCK!” she howled at the top of her lungs.

Other criminals in the far back stood, frozen and awestruck. Some of them shuddered, and backed off at the sight.

Further approaching the interior, Akechi stepped forward, her leather boots crinkling once again. She raised her head up, revealing her eyes, devoid of soul, yet remaining a malevolent shade of vermillion red. “Tell me…tell me how much it hurts!” She said, her tone raised higher than normal. Her blade remained pointed straight towards the policewoman. “You dare to lay a hand on him as if he’s your plaything…?”

She didn’t respond, or rather…simply couldn’t. The severity of her wound prevented her from speaking. The sheen of the blade reflected a brief light in Ren’s eyes before another swing befell the room.

Flesh rended, horrifically. 

A swift slash, back and forth. The policewoman’s arm slumped, remnants of meat hanging. 

Now, what was severed, rolled away.

Another flash of pain. Another scream, muted. Gurgles filled the air, and in its wake, helplessness and tears.

What in the…

A large amount of blood splattered over Ren's body. It took him a few moments to even adjust, to realize an uncomfortable warmth met him halfway. His own body was starting to betray him, as he felt… fear. Being within the presence of Akechi, his fingers ran cold and felt tingly again.

Akechi took a long and satisfied sigh again, smacking her lips behind that surgical mask of hers. “Die for me...”

On cue, the policewoman slumped to the ground, an immense pool of red erupting out from the stumps where her arms were. Tears rolled down her cheeks as her face became stained. She couldn’t stand up anymore either, only roll over and writhe in agony.

Without missing a beat, Akechi pulled the aluminum bat out. “Darling…” Akechi addressed him and got intimately close to him again, rolling his fingers open, and sliding the handle of the bat into his hands. Instinctively, he gripped hard on it. Ren did not follow her every motion with his gaze, too shellshocked to focus.

She leaned in and whispered in his ear again. “Calm down…and remember the vow we made.”

Whether it was the soothing tone of her voice, or the fact it simply was her, Ren couldn't make up his mind. All he could see before him was someone bleeding out and dying. Akechi went forward, and everybody else who wasn’t laying on the floor in their own pool of blood backed away, trembling. Others, however, were too foolhardy. They yelled out, trying pointlessly to charge her in groups.

Between the sounds of silenced pistol shots, blade cutting exposed flesh, and the screaming…none of that mattered. It all sank into the chaos, as Ren stood firmly over the policewoman, bat in hand. Her eyes were opened wide, staring straight at him. She murmured something he didn’t hear, until he leaned in closer.

“I knew it…you…fucking traitor…”

“That makes both of us.” He said. Ren pursed his lips, gripping the bat in his hands. “I never asked for this,” he said in a hushed tone, attention briefly focused on the carnage ahead. 

He saw Akechi in the distance stab a criminal through their own body, a spray of blood splattering out upon the katana exiting…and it was just like the last time. Ren couldn’t hear anything but white noise amidst it all, time slowing down around him. Now, the receptionist was next. 

She was immensely struggling to get Akechi off of her, only to be thrown down the floor, followed by a quick pistol shot. Several other loud gunshots reverberated in retaliation, leading her to fire from her silenced pistol while she remained in cover.

Kill together…

You’re deliberately leaving me people dying so I can kill them…

Why can’t you be quick about it…?

His eyes remained unblinking, staring deep into the dying soul of the policewoman before him. If she wasn’t going to die right then and there, he’d have to finish her off as a mercy killing. It was, for all intents and purposes, the only justifiable thing to do. 

Ren prepared to swing the bat down, winding up. With his eyes closed, but his intentions clear, he gave himself a solemn nod. “I’m sorry…”

Utilizing the technique he remembered, a sick splintering of bone and metal cracked the police woman’s visage into pieces. Not only did he not finish her off, when he raised the bat, she was gurgling. Her nose had been broken in, and her eye closed, having ruptured.

With a hitched breath, Ren choked back a soft cry. He closed his eyes, taking another blind swing, another crack reverberated in his ears, the only sound they were capturing.

Please just die…

One more swing.

I’m so sorry…

In the final, brutal blow, she was gone from the world. The bat struggled to lift itself back up, the gory mess Ren left behind sticking on its metallic finish. With a long and deep exhale and weakened knees, the world around him woke back up.

Screams of echoed ghosts departed. 

Pristine walls painted a gruesomely beautiful scene. 

A silent blade remained noiseless whilst the bat sang.

Everything, even the silence, was loud before it became quiet.

Several downed criminals were crying out in pain, most others in the back were already planning an escape. Running directly at him, however, was Shido.

It didn’t take long for Ren to steadily prepare his bat just in case, only for it to not matter. A bullet found its way to his upper leg, fired from behind, tripping him in the process. Ren rushed ahead, seeing him tumble down uselessly.

However long did he actually take, dispatching exactly one person already sentenced to die? He didn’t know. The level of destruction Akechi left in her own wake outpaced his - several people were already dead, on the verge of dying, or otherwise bleeding out amidst her maniacal laughter. There was just something about her right here, and today of all days, that felt severely wrong. She’d never taken such pleasure at killing - and not specifically like this.

“Run…RUN!” Akechi yelled gleefully, as another slash of her blade ended another life in the distance. More blood splattered on the walls, and Ren witnessed an incomprehensible level of bloodstains around the entire building, an uncomfortable scent of iron and smoke assaulted the air, and parts of his nostrils. Poor circulation inside didn’t help.

Any opportunity he could, be it on the way, he tried to steel his resolve - and end their pain by taking their lives. All around him, decapitated corpses, missing limbs, or entrails. This was the worst crime scene he’d ever witnessed.

All around him was nothing but a mass graveyard. The receptionist covered her own throat, unable to speak. A bullet was lodged directly in her esophagus. By the time Ren came over to her, she could only briefly extend her hand out to him before the lights in her eyes faded. Moving forward, everybody’s limbs were cut apart, rolling helplessly across the floor, or they were disemboweled, crawling away from this viciously grotesque scene.

In perhaps the most gruesome scene, he saw something no regular person should ever see. In a helpless pile of split parts, Ren’s eyes encountered the remains of what was Mr. Faux-Hawk, his body dissected from his own midsection with meat spilling out of him still. It was almost as if the katana sawed through him, brutally and relentlessly. He gagged at the sight, eyes quickly darting away.

Across the instances Akechi had encountered Ren, never before was she ever letting others draw out their last breath - she always took it away from them. This time…everybody was suffering in horrifying ways.

Out of nowhere, a door swung wide open, and a prostitute hurried out, tripping over himself, with Ren barely moving out of the way of it. Once he dodged, his eyes flicked back over to Akechi, standing above someone already beaten down…

And her gun, being pointed towards his general direction. “Get out of the way!” Akechi shouted towards Ren. Usually, her voice was much more calm and sweet…this time around, it felt rougher, and more demanding. Now knowing her objective, he refused. He stood there, blocking the way, and also pulling the door out so she could not fire any further. Lightly seething, Akechi squinted her eyes.

The way she stared at Ren felt…crazed. Lost, even. They weren’t her usual eyes when she was in the midst of killing, crimson red and that of a predator. Instead, they were…empty. Like whoever was driving the wheel in Akechi’s mind was elsewhere.

“You will get out of my way.” She growled in a lower tone, wasting no more time taking a direct gunshot to the head of the last criminal left alive to challenge her. Before long, she made her way towards the closest door near to her - which, coincidentally, just so happened to be the room Mina was in. Ren sprinted over to Akechi, a heavy weight pushing up against his heart.

Forcing the door open, she felt a light bit of weight behind it, and for good reason. Mina was holding her own so as to not let anybody else in…and unfortunately for her, nobody could ever stop Akechi from doing something. As Mina tumbled backwards, her fragile body hit the bed.

Perhaps it was luck that when she pulled the trigger, the chamber came up empty. With an irritated groan, she reloaded the magazine, keeping the empty one in the waist bag. Refocusing her aim with her left hand, she pulled the trigger again.

Except, Ren intercepted her. He took a firm grip of her hand, pulling it back - and then, using his other hand, pulled the rest of Akechi’s figure backwards. She deliberately squeezed twice, letting loose two stray bullets that went towards the walls and ceiling. The serrated katana dropped as well, muffled clattering occurring as it dropped before the both of them.

Now, with both of them down on the ground, Ren got on top of her, holding her down with the best of his strength. “This isn’t you!” His voice began cracking.

“You piece of shit!” Akechi cursed, struggling to maintain her composure. He didn’t listen, using both of his hands to try and get the gun out of her hand instead. Even in spite of his strength, Ren struggled to get her to not lift her arm up. “Why must you be so stubborn?!”

Despite his efforts, Akechi managed to get him off of herself. Ren, however, tackled her legs, forcing her back onto the ground. “Is this what your mother would’ve wanted?!” He cried out, raising the tone. The way he said it made a wave of guilt run over him. “After what she did for you?!”

He hadn’t realized it then, but a teardrop left his ducts and fell onto his glasses. “Please…!”

Akechi remained determined, eyebrows deeply furrowed and with a wild, angry groan, writhed underneath him. If he couldn’t wrestle the gun out, then the best follow-up was to make her waste the ammo. With his arms back around her left, he forced her to pull the trigger up to the ceiling.

Once.

“You…!” With a grunt, she pushed with all of her might, but any time Ren felt like his grasp was slipping, he’d immediately seize control by reorienting his maneuvering around - briefly using his knees, counter-pushing her briefly with his dominant hand, or otherwise utilizing his own weight against her. “Why…!”

Twice.

This time, Akechi seemingly started to back down. She struggled to maintain that fiery rage within herself, with Ren wrapped around her. While still seething, there was an uncertain…softness, to the way she was slowing down. 

Thrice.

The bullet fired within the same general vicinity towards the roof, albeit it almost skinned Ren in the process. Three more bullets remained in the magazine, but…all signs of struggle stopped. Akechi forcibly dropped the gun out of her hands, using all of her remaining strength to push Ren off - the one thing he didn’t anticipate. With him down on the ground again, she stood up, quickly grabbing the gun back.

Ren got on his knees, and with his head raised, he now faced the barrel of the gun again. He hesitated, eyes locking with hers. Instead of the soulless pupils reflecting back on him, they returned, almost flickering back to that familiar, warm and earthly shade of brown.

It was there that she hesitated, a small quiver prevalent in her aim. It was so brief that she let her arm slump back down, and turned away from Ren. With another irritated groan, she shook her head. This brief reprieve would only last a few moments, as Shido made his presence known again in the form of a loud, painful moan.

“God fucking…!” He cursed loudly. It was enough to grab Akechi’s attention again, and she took aim, took another shot. Swiftly, without any real precision. It landed near his shoulder - once again, he fell with a loud thud.

In the meanwhile, Ren stood back up, breathing heavily. His attention turned back to Mina, who was shaking wildly from the fact she almost died if he hadn’t intervened. In lieu of everything else, she thanked him wordlessly. Everything that could’ve been said, the way her eyes reflected back a newfound light was all Ren needed to see to be acknowledged. He gave his warmest smile, and nodded, bat still in hand.

From the long pause of chaos, some doors opened up. Several prostitutes poured out now, some still afraid to approach Akechi, but most yelped at the sheer bloodbath that they were beholden to. From the closest distance to where the most damage was done, quiet crying existed. Between all of that, Akechi collected her katana back again, and grabbed Ren’s bat out of his hand. She holstered both on her back, messy as they were.

All around the both of them were several people, having now survived the encounter. Akechi remained silent, only pushing her way out, closer to where her own father was. In exchange, Ren got all the attention.

“Did he save us…? Did they both save us…?”

Hushed whispers surrounded him, equally by a large swath of women and men, all of whom remained unable to express their gratitude towards him in a straightforward way. They only whispered amongst themselves, unsure of what to do. Briefly, he tasted iron and copper when he wet his lips, and he knew then it wasn’t his own. “...Keep your eyes focused ahead. You’re all safe now. Don’t look down.”

…And now what do they do?

He gave it a soft ponder to himself. Truly, what else was there?

It was all he could get to say as he witnessed in the far off distance, Akechi dragging Shido. She fired another bullet into his arm, hearing his yell break the quiet, and it only took a few seconds for him to fall silent again.

He wasn’t dead yet. Just unconscious. Akechi pistol whipped him into unconsciousness, a large scrape bleeding across his bald forehead, and now began dragging his body behind her. Knowing Akechi, Ren would be needed heading outside. A wave of dread washed over him, telling him this wasn’t quite over yet, far from it. In fact, this was only the beginning.

They were here for one reason, and one reason only. In Ren’s plan, Shido would’ve come quietly given patience. In Akechi’s concept of one, she went in, guns literally ablaze.  As much as he wanted to hang around, there wasn’t any time to waste, especially if there were gunshots fired. 

Even past a reinforced door and deeper into the building, people definitely would’ve heard and reported it. No excuse for fireworks, especially if it was muffled. No such thing as explosives in a quiet zone, that’s regulated. It could only be gunshots.

Delicately, Ren made his way out of the sea of prostitutes around him, all of them grazing his body on the way out. They whispered in his ears their thanks through their quiet breaths. All of them were substantially weaker than they should be, and all of them were…frankly, defenseless after this. Ren gave a short pause, staring back at all that he passed. His eyes briefly found themselves locked onto the prostitute from earlier in Mr. Faux-Hawk’s possession, huddled behind someone else.

I have to do something.

He approached her again. This time, she covered herself up and turned the other cheek upon Ren’s presence. “Hey.” He softly addressed her. “I just uh…wanted to say. Back there…”

“I know,” she whispered, nodding. “A part of me knew.”

“...You did?” Ren asked, tilting his head. “But how?”

“Good men don’t come here acting coy and don’t mean it…” She said, voice raised back to normal, facing him now. “Especially not ones who have no interest in…well.” She got out of the crowd, brushing up against him. In response, he took a small step back. “You know…”

Ren scoffed rather teasingly, chuckling. “Guess I gotta work on my acting skills. But…I-I  don’t think I ever could go that far. Not without permission.”

“And that’s why a girl’s intuition’s never wrong.” She responded, smiling, then falling back. “I won’t keep you…”

With a slow nod, Ren turned back around, exiting out of the hallway.

It felt unceremonious - but, frankly, what could be said of these people? What could he even say to himself about this? To anyone? He’d just gotten out of a scarily vicious ordeal. He never prepared a speech, and not so hastily.

In an alternate life, this brothel would’ve been shut down without anybody getting massively injured. In another life, he would’ve been the one to save these people…the right way. Especially not with so much death, if Akechi had stuck with the plan, maybe this bloodshed would’ve been mitigated.

As he made his way out towards the reception room, he noticed that, sans the waiting room with three dead and mutilated guards, the entire front was clean. The lights were purely dark now, no longer flickering. The only source of light came from the street lamps outside…and potentially, it might’ve been the only light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. Just before exiting the building, he pushed a dead guard’s body out of the way and propped open the reinforced door.

Then, he caught up with Akechi going down a long alleyway where the building was. In the cool and breezy dark of the night, Ren could briefly make out the outline of a sedan waiting there. Inexplicably, the car beeped twice - a signal of unlocking. The back of the trunk opened.

Now a few feet away from her, Ren saw Shido’s lifeless body get stuffed in the back, followed by a heavy weight shift in the car. A small moment passed between the two before the trunk slammed back, and Akechi stared blankly at him.

Out of her hand and into his, she passed him along some leathery gloves and the keys to the car. “Drive.” She ordered him. “Wear the gloves beforehand.”

Hesitantly, he let the keys jingle before shifting gazes back to her. “Where did you…?”

“Do you truly want to have incriminating evidence against you when they find this car?”

Ren shook his head, doing as he was told. He slipped on the red gloves, curling and uncurling his fingers together before tugging them closer towards his wrists. Despite only wearing them for the first time, he felt at ease with them around his fingers. 

“Just follow me,” she said. With the sedan in his possession, he gazed longingly at Akechi moving back to the foot path. Begrudgingly, Ren got into the driver’s seat, igniting the car. He left it idle for a moment, staring at the wall of the building.

…If I can contact authorities…would they take them all to safety?

But if there’s an off-chance more dirty cops come…

He let the car roll slowly out of the alleyway, and into the open road. Maneuvering the car around, he got to face several prostitutes standing outside in skimpy attire underneath the lamppost. If he did nothing now, most of these people would end up somewhere bad, or worse, they wouldn’t get to live to see another day.

Out in the corner of his eye, as Ren dialled three digits. He saw Akechi ignite her bike. She waited on him to follow. Pressing his ear up against the phone receiver, he heard a few dial tones before someone picked up.

“119, this is Dispatcher #101992, how can I be of service?”

He lingered for a moment, foot hovering over the pedal. Across the street, his eyes briefly glanced over Mina, singling her out in the crowd. She silently acknowledged him, giving Ren a soft nod. In return, he did too.

“Hello. I’d like to keep my identity a secret,” Ren began speaking into the phone. “I’ve got…”

An anonymous tip.

That was all he could provide, and not to the police, but fire and ambulance services. Giving away his detective status would’ve been moot, talking to police right now would’ve also exposed him as the anonymous tipper and exposed him outright with records. Contacting anybody he knew was already a non-starter; anybody would’ve put two and two together.

All he told them was that there was a large group of individuals injured at the location of the brothel. The rest would follow - and he knew the police would arrive to investigate the burial ground in the back. He’d be sure to hear all about it next time he went to work.

With Akechi in front of him, they sped off into the night, a car and a bike.

The streets were quieter as the night dragged. It was still young, yet the average Japanese citizen would’ve gone to bed already. The nightcrawlers, the late night drivers, people working overtime, they were out hanging in midnight diners.

Normally, Ren would’ve driven safer. For this night only, he opted to ignore red lights and catch up with Akechi right behind her. There were no cars around regardless, and above all else - it wasn’t as if the police couldn’t identify this car, tag it as Shido’s, and turn a blind eye. As much as he hated it, utilizing corruption to get past something worked to his own advantage.

They’d reach somewhere that felt familiar, but Ren had never been here before. In another alleyway, Akechi parked her bike, and got off. He turned the engine off, took the keys out and popped the trunk. Stepping out of the car, he took in the sights - another quietly dilapidated building, closer to a poorer neighboring ward, away from prying eyes.

In a similar vein, this felt like the exact same setup as their own political safehouse. Unlike theirs however, this one was almost scheduled for demolition come the summertime. Ren gazed far up into the building, which wasn’t exactly tall, but it did tower above everything else. He didn’t even notice Akechi heavily tugging Shido out of the trunk and placing him on her shoulder, slamming the trunk again before using both hands to hold onto him.

Through a large opening that was already cut ahead of time, they entered into the lobby. its worn down and dull painted finish showing its age. Dim lights flickered open upon entry, startling him. Surprisingly, electricity was still running on its bare minimum here. But…it certainly raised a question.

Ren turned to face her once they settled in briefly. “You’ve been here, haven’t you?”

She only took the time to stare at him, rolling her hood down. Most of the blood already dried off of her and began flaking off. Laundry and folding all of her clothes would be a nightmare if this was to be believed and…

Why am I thinking about doing laundry right now?

He blanked out temporarily, but he got the memo. She did, in fact, come here at some point. Be it to cut a path open, or otherwise get power running. How she did it remains a mystery…but knowing her, she had her ways.

“What’s the floor?” Ren asked, staring at the elevator levels, seeing the top was on Floor Five.

Instead of being to the highest level, Akechi groaned softly, pushing Shido’s body back up. “Fourth.”

It took significantly longer than the one back at home to get the elevator to roll down to the ground floor, and once it opened with a jolly ‘ding’, they both stepped in.

There was no fancy keycard reader, so he didn’t need to take his wallet out. Ren pressed the button for the 4th floor, and up they went. The ride itself was not smooth, often jerking up from disuse, the amber lights above them blinking in and out of existence. Whilst they rode up, both Ren and Akechi remained silent with one another. Every so often, he’d steal a glance over to her as she took her cloak off. When she returned the favor, he turned away.

When they finally arrived at the designated floor, what awaited them was an empty set of hallways and closed doors. Stagnant air lingered, its damp and musty smell being very prevalent. Even with the carpet removed and the cold pavement being underneath, there was a discomforting warmth inside.

As they got closer to the open room, the empty floor plan had remarkable amounts of stains, be it from water and mold growth, or dried bodily fluids - blood or otherwise.

Notably, there was a straight walk-in room from the main entrance and the living room. What was set up belonged primarily with the construction crew - boxes of cardboard filled with nothing, three folding chairs with poor cushioning, a white paint can with a dried paintbrush.

Then, there was rope. Not safety rope for construction - no, genuine rope already tied in a noose.

Wherever this was going, Ren’s sense of dread could not be eased. He only gave one quick glance over to Akechi, who already haphazardly rolled Shido’s body into an empty room, lugging two chairs in, and grabbed the rope.

“Akechi...” Ren said, doing his best to remain calm. She wouldn’t have it, coiling the rope around.He got close, placing his hands on her free shoulder.

“No!” Akechi replied, firmly and bluntly, pulling away from him. The way she looked at him, she was determined. Her eyes returned back to the same shade of bloodlust as earlier. Not a good sign. Rolling her mask down to her chin, she widened her eyes with a twisted grin. “You cannot deny me this, dear Renren…! I have come too far!”

“Just…wait,” Ren told her. He was trying to form words, make the best out of an already dire situation, but every opportunity he had was squandered.

“I’VE WAITED LONG ENOUGH!” She yelled out to him, her eyes widening. Crazier. Her fingers rolled down on her face as she began giggling maliciously again before her voice returned back down…down into something sweet, and gentle. “And you…you…why are you hesitating now, of all times…?”

“I…” Ren trailed off, pursing his lips.

Because I don’t want you to fall deeper.

But in truth, he had no answer. Not one that would sate her. In that moment, it was the break Akechi got, and never had to ask for. She immediately retreated into the room, slamming the door shut. Without Ren to stop her, it was only her, and her father in the room now.

One room, left all to herself.
One bullet, left in the chamber.
One corpse, left to dispose of.

Ren, despite his attention catching up to reality, rushed the door and began knocking on it. “Akechi!” He cried out, slamming his hands on the door multiple times. No response.

All that was left was judgement.

You are a fool, my dear husband...

You will always, ALWAYS, be a fool.

Why can’t you see that…?!

Why must you stop me, every step of the way?!

You must realize who I am, surely…

…What do you see in me…?

Akechi took a deep, focused breath. Throwing aside the bat and katana, she rolled up her sleeves and got to work, setting up an intricate system, wrapping around a small coil hanging directly above the ceiling. The noose was ready. All that was needed was a body to fill it. Ignoring the constant bashing of the doors and Renren’s incessant pleas, it eventually died out.

This disgusting man…

A low growl emitted from her when she forcibly dragged Shido up to the chair. In the room, she managed to find duct tape in one of the cabinets that remained to be removed. It still had plenty of usability, and with it, a perfect makeshift way to force her fucking degenerate of a father helpless.

A quiet flick of the lights illuminated the darkness in the room, perfect to set the mood. Dim enough to warrant mystery, not bright enough to give away anything. Tearing away at the removable end, she extended the tape out, wrapping it tightly around Shido’s hands. Round and round she went, going so far as to make it so it constricted, more than restrained.

As another test to ensure the rope would stay, she tugged harshly at the end of it, seeing the rope whine at the resistance. It held, and for all it was worth, if she wanted to take a seat opposite him - tug away, and end it in torture…she could. The rope receded back down when she stopped.

Gleefully, Akechi giggled and gleefully wrapped the noose around Shido’s neck. A soft groan indicated he was close to waking up now. It was all too perfect.

Everything was going as planned.

With the other folding chair positioned with the rope placed on her left side. All that needed to be done was to awaken her victim.

Cracking her knuckles, she planted a harsh and swift punch to her father’s face. “Wake up.” She demanded, sliding her black mask back on.

Shido grunted loudly, eyes closed but rudely awakened. He breathed heavily, still disoriented. “Where…where the hell am I?”

“Open your eyes.” Akechi said, taking a seat. Her hand gradually brushed across the rope. He refused to do so, taking his sweet, sweet time. Annoyed, she tugged her end of the rope far back. “I said…open! Your! EYES!” She now yelled, forcing Shido’s neck to get raised up. The sheer effort and strength she was exerting forced his body up, and he stood, almost choking.

Akechi let go of the rope again, forcing Shido back down. He coughed wildly, eyes and attention forced on her. “You…son of a…!” Casually, she pulled her holstered pistol out, and took aim at him.

“I’d choose my words carefully. Your very life is within my hands.”

As much as her demeanor meant business, Shido couldn’t help but laugh at Akechi’s remarks. “Do you know who the fuck I am, Kurozukume…? What I deal with, and who I am associated with…?”

“Very,” Akechi responded back swiftly. “And to tell you the truth…it’s adorable you think I care.”

Shido took a deep breath, staring blankly at the ceiling. “Is this about money? Power? I’ve heard about your exploits, girl…you could go far if you knew how to channel all of that elsewhere. Let’s make a deal…”

Akechi gave pause to it. Her hand rolled over the rope again, lingering. “A deal, you say…?”

“How about…you kill for me, and I will do anything that pleases you. I can tell you enjoy power over others…that domineering attitude.”

Even now, her own father couldn’t see through anything. He was digging further through the muck, the sheer amount of shit, just to get somebody out of his depth on his side. True cowardice was never admitting accountability for anything.

Nevertheless, she played along. Smirking underneath her mask, she let her pistol lay on her lap, and retreated her hand back. “Tell me more.”

He smirked devilishly. “Your services can be bought. I’m glad…” A part of his eyes closed, feeling relieved at hearing this. “I’ve got extensive connections to politicians who may or may not need a body or two disposed of…and my associates in the underworld would pay handsomely for a new fixer after I lost Takemura.”

How easy it is for you to fall into my trap…

Shido’s eyes gazed into hers. Briefly, he gave his own pause as he turned to investigate Akechi. He hummed softly, taking a look around the building he was in. Whatever he was thinking of, it remained a mystery - or perhaps, he caught on to where he was, even without the furniture and decorations around.

“I see you do your research well if this used to be one of my safehouses…” Shido commented, smacking his lips. “Curous as to how much you know about me.”

That was it. Akechi pulled down her mask, revealing her own face to him. She brushed parts of her unkempt bangs out of her features, and took a deep breath. Holstering her pistol and standing up, she approached her father, closing the distance, all whilst retaining her deceptively soft and warm smile.

“I know more than you think.” Akechi said, gently. Her eyes closed, and she tilted her head with her arms behind her back. Her tone softened, and was sickly sweet. “In many ways, you could say…I’ve been watching your career with great interest.”

Shido grinned. “Wonderful. It’s always a pleasure to meet a fan…including one that, of course…” His grin widened, and his eyes turned in a sinister direction. “Looks too much like their whore mother.”

You…! Piece of shit…!

Akechi furrowed her eyebrows, deftly grabbing a hold of the rope again. She tugged back, forcing him to stand. When they met eye-to-eye, she still held the high ground above him. “So you do remember her!” Her tone returned back to a gravelly, low one.

“Of…course…” Shido grinned menacingly. “I loved her, you know…? But she…she stabbed me in the back…just as you are…right now…”

In a spark of rage, Akechi tugged tighter back, forcing Shido to get elevated up. He began to choke, writhing at his asphyxiation. Any tighter, and she would’ve snapped his neck…but she didn’t pull back any further. Instead, she kicked the folded chair out from underneath him, and let go of the rope.

He tumbled down with a loud thud. On the floor, Akechi mounted him, both fists curled up, ready to fly.

Left. Right. Left. Right.

She delivered harsh and swift punches towards his visage again, breaking his orange shades and bruising him. Blood flew out of Shido’s mouth, including a tooth or two.

“You left her to DIE!”

Right punch.

“You ignored her after she was FORCED…! INTO PROSTITUTION!”

Left punch, this time, harder.

It dislocated Shido’s jaw, as his eye began to swell and forcibly close itself shut. The flurry of punches didn’t stop until he was bleeding out of every facial orifice. When she got tired of it, she took the reins of the rope again, and forced him back up to strangle his throat again.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited…” Akechi said, holding onto the rope again, pulling the chair back to its original position, “For this moment…?”

He couldn’t respond, choking on his own blood and need for air. She repositioned the chair again so his oxford shoes were planted firmly on it, forcing him to stand. “It doesn’t matter if I kill you here and now…because I know you don’t care about that.”

Akechi returned to her own chair, sitting back down with her harsh restraint on him still prevalent. She giggled softly, her gaze never leaving his suffocating body as he stared back at her, struggling in vain. “I want you to die knowing that it was all for nothing. That your legacy will be wiped off the face of Tokyo…and you will be no one. Not even a footnote in history. It’s all about your pride and ego…isn’t it…?”

Her grin widened to a cruel extreme. “I never cared about what people thought of me, or for your approval if I ever met you…why would I care for a pathetic coward such as you to fulfill my life? And besides…”

She snickered, covering her mouth slightly. “Your career as a politician is meaningless. Your death will be marked by the news as a suicide to prevent exposing themselves. You’re a ghost…just like me. Meaningless, without name or face. You will be forgotten.”

It was then that Akechi let go, and her father could breathe again. He coughed incessantly, face red with blood and a lack of oxygen flowing through his body. In time, Akechi took the opportunity to leverage the rope. With whatever she could, she forced the rope to stay where it was by putting it against the weight of one of the legs, tying it perfectly around.

“Of course it won’t matter…” Shido commented, catching his breath finally. “But I thought it’d be nice to prance around with the limited power I as given…fucking women as I pleased, just like your mother when she came to me, begging. And you know what else, my dearest Akechi…?”

She remained unflinching. Because of course, It was her maiden name…and her mother’s family name.

He spat out his own blood in her general direction. “I’ll see her again when I die. And when I do…I think I’ll force her to have another child with me…” He laughed, coughing again. “You’ll have a baby sibling in the afterlife. A family you can never reach, or have… We’ll be waiting...”

You won’t die…not yet.

Akechi took it as a challenge, smirking in return. “You won’t be seeing her. She’s somewhere you’ll never be.”

But you’ll wish you were.

Her eyes flicked over to the aluminum bat and katana. If she wanted to prolong the pain, it’d have to be internal. Humming the tune she came to know and be familiar with, she glided over in a swift, smooth motion over to the bat.

“I have a wonderful idea…” She mused, turning back around to meet her father. “You aren’t satisfied with the fact you took my mother away from me either, are you…? Isn’t this what you really wanted from her?” With it in her hands, the unrelenting assault on Shido lingered. With a crazed grin and eyes wide, she chuckled. “I am going to strike, and strike, and keep striking …until you die!” With one brutal swing, she took aim at his kneecap.

A sickening crunch rang out, bone against metal once again - all too sweet.

One coarse scream followed. Shido’s body jerked.

Another swing, another kneecap.

Bone shattered, splintering.

Dark red stains appeared where the damage was done.

The results protruded outward.

She wasn’t done. She wanted to savor.

The arms came next, shattered all the same.

A wet pop occurred, shoulder dislocated. Useless once more.

Another horrific crunch sang, crimson liquid flying out.

All four of Shido’s limbs were rendered useless in swift motion. He was, beautifully, in a state of true torture. Akechi’s eyes gleamed against the dim lights at the sight of her work, as she sat back down, a small dink of the bat hit the floor.

“You do not know what pain is yet...” Akechi commented, smirking at her work. “You will learn.”

The endless brutality sank into one another, once she got into the rhythm of it. In a way, Akechi lost herself in her own madness at treating Shido like a piece of meat. She slashed mercilessly, struck him with a bat endlessly, until his body was nothing more than a bleeding, helplessly black and blue, broken and useless body.

By the end of it, he still hung onto a thread, a mere inch of his life left. He would die regardless, alone, afraid, and completely devoid of any meaning to others. Everything Akechi had wanted for all 28 years of her life.

The last thing she could do was end it with a bullet to his head, the last one loaded in the chamber. After extensively witnessing a grotesque amount of blood splattered around the floor, staining the chair and the concrete underneath, his otherwise formal attire ripped to shreds with meat and sinew flowing out alongside the blood, she long felt ready.

Pulling the pistol out once again, she tugged at the rope, lifting Shido up in the air. He no longer resisted, only shallow breaths awaited as he writhed in agony. Her index finger hovered over the trigger, and then…she pulled it.

Except, the bullet didn’t fire. The gun clicked. In surprise, Akechi’s eyes widened, and furthermore, she squeezed the trigger again, only to hear a resounding click again.

The gun jammed. 

At the final hour, watching as her father was quickly losing his own life, she couldn’t even end it on her own terms. In a panic, she didn’t know what else to do. Either she pull back on the rope tighter, and end his miserable life by snapping his neck, or let him slowly bleed out. She could stab him, dumping his entrails out, or smash his head in with a bat. Anything worked - something had to…

So why…all of a sudden, when her plan didn’t go the way she wanted…did she hesitate…?

Ren, having sat in the last folding chair all of this time, heard the chaos. He stared emptily at the floor, leaned in without any thoughts on his mind.

How long had it been? He didn’t know.

How much destruction was Akechi doing to warrant that level of torture he could hear? He didn’t know.

Would she be satisfied, knowing she got everything she wanted?

He didn’t know.

What Ren did know, however, was that it’d been going for too long, and all too quietly. Even on his forced guard duty, nobody came around. There was nothing else to do but wait, and wait he did. Patiently.

All the things he could not say to Akechi, all the words that failed to reach her. It had to have meant something…especially their date - and yes, Ren firmly believed it was a date - together. It had to have meant something.

Inevitably, after a long, indefinite period of silence, a loud and heavy thud roused him from his stupor. Ren’s eyes gleamed over to the door, and he stood back up.

The doorknob jiggled slowly, and he lightly sucked breath in.

Awaiting him at the swing of the door, and a dark room, was Akechi. Fresh blood painted her face as he focused solely on her. He didn’t even see Shido’s corpse from how dark it was in there.

What perturbed him wasn’t the fact she had blood on her face. It was the fact that, throughout all of her chaos, all of the misery and destruction she caused to several others - even if they deserved it, be it a dirty cop, lowlife criminals, or otherwise people who were doing bad things…she did it with a smile, and those damned nocturnal predator eyes.

When Akechi exited the room, her body language was different. It felt sullen, as did her face. Her eyes reflected back a deep shade of brown, and remained eternally soft, unsure of herself. There was no hint of joy in it at all from where he was standing. Akechi stole a quick glance at him, before turning her eyes back down. For the first time between the both of them, Akechi’s presence was the weaker of the two.

She pursed her lips, and muttered something so low that Ren couldn’t parse it. “Akechi…” he called out to her, extending an arm out. But even he didn’t know what else to say as she quietly shuffled out, closing the door behind her.

She walked past him, only to halt in front of the exit out of this safehouse. A deliberate silence fell upon them, as did the creeping sense of knowing, feeling…that Shido was in fact dead behind that door.

“I’m going to be honest with you.” Akechi said, bluntly. She turned to face Ren now, gaze firm. “I hate you.”

Ren’s shoulders slacked, and it almost felt like the entire air within his lungs were taken away.

“You…piss me off. Your sense of goodwill, and your kindness to help others, even when they don’t deserve it. Everything about you is a living contradiction. You promised me,” she said, taking a harsh step forward. “That you would kill together. And here you are, standing alone, on a false moral high ground.”

Everything she was saying, Ren couldn’t take at face value. In his eyes, and the fact she was acting so, so different in the past few days all pointed towards something else.

Put short, he saw right through her. But…given everything…even he didn’t know if that was true. All the same, however, this was deliberate.

It was then that Akechi began laughing out of nowhere, placing two of her hands to hold and cover her lower half of her face, whilst her fingers positioned perfectly so she could still see him. Her tone shifted once again, back to the unusually gravelly and coarse one. “Your sense of righteousness and justice?! You can keep that shit to yourself…you’re no better than the trash of society! You mock everything the definition stands for!”

Her mirth turned wild. “I should’ve killed you back then, knowing you were nothing more than a liar to me…!”

After some time, Ren felt a small, cold sweat roll down his brow. He stood firm, and unflinching at all of this. If he were to turn his back now, it would only reaffirm to her everything she was saying was correct.

“So leave me…!” Akechi barked out an order to him, her voice cracking. With a deep, unsettling breath, her final words quieted. “Just…leave me!”

After a moment of silence, Ren took a deep breath. “I refuse. I want to be here…for you.”

Something shifted once he said those words. Akechi rolled her hands down, eyes shifting. She sucked in air, and balled her fists together. “I won’t have it. If I see you back at the safehouse, I’ll…!”

“What?” Ren asked, stepping forward towards her. “You’ll kill me?”

It was almost as if, for the first time since they’d been in this together, they finally matched steps. She couldn’t finish the sentence. Her breath hitched instead. Ren got up to her, and took both of her hands within his own, still wearing his red gloves. 

He scoffed and laughed, furrowing his eyebrows. “You called me your husband, and you’re my wife. That has to mean something.”

“It…doesn’t mean a damn thing.” Akechi said in a hushed and hoarse whisper. “So why…!” She pushed him away. “Why are you staying?!”

“I’m not saying what you did tonight was ever going to be okay,” Ren spoke softly to her, even as she pushed him away. “It just isn’t. How I do things is what I believe to be right. I don’t want to stop you, I just…” He trailed off, rolling his head. “I just see you. Despite all, I see you.”

It took a long time in the uncomfortable silence for her to respond. Inevitably, and eventually, she did. She pursed her lips and shook her head. “You…are truly something else. I won’t have it.”

She scoffed, turning away from him. “Take the last train, and go home.”

Ren swallowed, and gave a solemn nod. “...I’ll see you back there.”

“JUST GO!” She screamed at him. When he went back to the elevator, the door shut loudly behind him. He took it back down to the ground floor. Because it was the last train, there’d be nobody else around, especially near this area from what he could confirm from his own phone’s mapping.

In the darkness outside of the building, Ren took one last look at the car parked outside, near Akechi’s bike. Throughout the entire ordeal, he knew deep down there was something more about the conversation they just had. Still, even knowing her the way he did, and through his own tuition, there had to be more.

By the time he reached the subway station, the last express train pulled up seconds after. He got onboard, paying his ticket to get back to Meguro ward. Having taken a seat with no one else to disturb him, he sat down, letting out a deep exhale with his phone in his hand.

Flicking the screen back on, he only now noticed the time. The true test was to see whether he'd survive. If he didn't, then he was wrong. If he was right...then he would leave to see another day.

The one day that helped push Akechi into his space now, the same way she did, one month ago to the dot.

March 14th, 20XX.
Midnight.
White Day.

…

"The way I see it there's two types of people. Those who spend their lives trying to build a future, and those who spend their lives trying to rebuild the past." - Max Payne

Chapter Text

“I am free and that is why I am lost.” - Franz Kafka

March 16th, 20XX
Noon
Yongen-Jaya

In the quiet days that followed the incident at the brothel, Ren, much to his own non-surprise, was very much still alive despite all of Akechi’s perceived threats. No heads rolled, no fingers were found to be missing, and no blood was shed. Although the atmosphere of their safehouse was very much different than before.

More often than not, in the past two days Ren woke up, he would find Akechi standing on the rooftops, peering out at the morning skylines of Tokyo towards Shibuya, as he often did. On White Day, she didn’t even sleep. He’d find a solitary figure, standing still against the guard rails. Akechi, dressed in her usual baggy attire, did not address him as he’d often approached, feeling the calm spring breeze run through the locks of his hair. As he silently walked towards her, she was always preoccupied with something else on her mind, and Ren didn’t need to be a genius to figure out why.

Her figure often had a disheveled and a gaunt set of features - sunken cheeks, dark eyebags, bloodshot eyes, and a face of pure weariness, all of which uncomfortably made itself worse when she gave him a despondent gaze, looking at him each day he was up there with her. Even the Akechi he came to know would’ve already said something to him before he made the first few steps here. So, of course, she wouldn’t say anything to Ren.

For today, he left her a gift - simple white rice and a nice amount of cooked salmon, warm miso soup with plenty of tofu and seaweed, and a cup of coffee. He even pre-emptively prepared dinner for her, making her a delicious omurice with minced beef and mushrooms inside, all served on a generous helping of ketchup. Hopefully, she’d eat it. In the past few days, she cooked for herself and only for herself, only to never eat much. A lot of food waste was occurring, and Ren had to eat her scraps instead.

Work called him away once more. Being a detective meant there was never truly a dull day. The Black Mask trail ran cold specifically for both him and Makoto, simply because of their proximity to his prior kidnapping. For others - Akihiko and Chie - they were tasked with dealing with the newfound evidence of the subway station murders. Juzo’s DNA lined up with one of the fifteen corpses, and Ren was not interrogated for it.

The new assignment given to both Ren and Makoto turned out to be a missing persons case, for one Eiko Takao. It unfolded a day after White Day, and their current leads were going nowhere. For today, they wanted to start fresh by clearing their minds.

The drive to Leblanc was rather…quiet. A lot more quiet than Ren had anticipated. Especially considering they haven’t been patrolling together in a long while. Makoto’s temporary partner already got reassigned elsewhere after Ren returned to the line of work. If nothing else, this was a chance for Ren to make amends for his overall distancing.

“What do we know about her?” he asked, manila folder in hand as he sat in their new unmarked cruiser.

Something about Eiko managed to perturb Makoto, and Ren could easily see it. He saw her grip the steering wheel a little too tightly, and her usually calm and professional demeanor getting disrupted by her other leg bouncing up and down impatiently whenever they stopped at a red light.

“She’s an accountant for a business firm. As I have found out as of last night, said business firm has ties to one of our network of informants.” Makoto said, eventually. “It’s not glamorous but…Miss Takao has been missing for the past few weeks. Other detectives and police haven’t been able to find her trail for some time.”

Ren thought about it for a moment, glancing over Eiko’s features. Maybe the cops are in on it, too.

Once they made it to Cafe Leblanc, and inside, after the shopkeeper’s bell twinkled gently, Ren’s eyes remained glued to the case files as he mulled it over. Makoto was ahead of him, getting up to the counter first.

“Ah, you’re back.” An aged man with a chinstrap beard announced, staring with his glasses out from the kitchen. “What can I get you two?”

“Hey boss, it’ll be our usuals!” Makoto replied happily. “Come on Sojiro-san, you and Futaba have known us for how long now?”

Sojiro chuckled, moving on over closer to her. “I’m joking. Say hi to your sister for me, will you? I haven’t seen her in a little while.” 

Wearing his usual signature pinstripe apron and a pale pink dress shirt and accompanying pale set of khakis. Rolling his neck around with his arms, Sojiro started up the coffee machine. “Coming right up.”

In the meanwhile, Ren took a seat at their designated booth, pursing his lips. He pushed the folder away as Makoto took a seat, crossing her arms. “You’ve been looking at her profile ever since we came here. What’s on your mind?”

Ren remained silent, pondering as he took off his coat. He rested his cheek with a balled fist for support, looking down at the closed folder.

“Business accountant for our informants, goes missing for a few weeks, and it’s assigned to us to figure it out…” He mused to himself, peering over to Makoto next. “All that from what you could gather.”

“...Yeah.” Makoto said, wetting her lips. “It’s a bit suspicious, isn’t it?”

He nodded. But something else didn’t line up when Makoto had introduced him to this case. He rhythmically tapped the table they were sitting at. “What else aren’t you telling me?”

It was Makoto’s turn to purse her lips then, as she steepled her hands together. “Nothing gets past you, huh…?” She took a long sigh, refusing to look at Ren directly. “...She’s a friend of mine back in Shujin Academy days.”

This alone got Ren to wake up slightly. He readjusted his posture, humming. “I’m sorry.”

Makoto only chuckled and waved it off. “No, it’s…mostly because I didn’t want to think about it. I’ve not seen her since we graduated and, well, she was always caught up with bad people.”

Ren leaned in. “How bad are we talking about?”

“...Sex trafficking.” Makoto softly replied. “I got her out of that. Her ex-boyfriend almost scammed her into it. We’ve been close friends ever since, and she cleaned up her act for our fourth year.” She deeply sighed, moving the manila folder closer to her. “Never imagined she’d be caught up in funny business again.” 

Once again Ren hummed, then remained quiet. Ren turned around in his seat, taking a look at Sojiro doing his work. In a short few moments, he arrived with two fresh cups of their coffee. “Here you two are,” he said, grinning.

“How’s Futaba?” Ren politely asked, only to see Sojiro scoff.

“She’s out in Akihabara with her mom. I’m pretty sure the bills tonight are gonna be mad expensive…” he softly mused, stroking his chinstrap beard. “But hey. Happy girls, happy family. You’ll understand when you find one.” Briefly, Sojiro’s eyes stole a quick glance over to Makoto, who opened up the manila folder and didn’t see the gesture.

Ren shook his head and scoffed. “We’re just friends,” he mouthed back to Sojiro, who forced a laugh and went back to the kitchen.

From the corner, he caught an unusual sight. A black cat was asleep on the floor, curled up somewhere warm. In the distance, Ren saw something distinct - a yellow collar.

Could it be?

He stood up, quietly moving over to where the small cat was laying down. He crouched, slowly getting closer and closer, and he wasn’t being sneaky as much as he thought. The cat opened its eyes and moved its head over to him, revealing its bright blue eyes.

“You again...” Ren smiled warmly. “Hey.”

The cat meowed loudly as it stretched its hind paws, and shook wildly. It slowly moved towards Ren and gently nuzzled up to him, causing him to laugh. “I see you remember me, too.”

“And who’s this little thing?” Makoto asked, coming up towards the both of them, crouching down. “Aww…” She extended her hand out, and it ended up sniffing it temporarily before looking aimlessly at something else.

A pair of shoes interrupted his vision as Sojiro came back around the countertop. “Ah…” He pushed his glasses up. “I see Morgana’s taken a liking to you.”

Ren stared up towards him. “I thought this was a stray?”

Sojiro hummed and crossed his arms. “Kind of…? Futaba told me she found him on the streets a couple weeks back. Couldn’t just leave him out there, so she took him in, gave him a name, and he’s been hanging out ever since.”

Morgana meowed loudly, much to the chagrin of Sojiro. He groaned loudly in disappointment. “...He’s quite noisy, too…so.”

Gently, Ren gave the little cat a pet to the head. “I fed him late at night. Makoto can attest it nearly gave her a heart attack.”

“Oh, come on!” Makoto protested, rolling her eyes. “How was I supposed to know you were going to run off when you needed to rest? You didn’t even tell me!”

Having shrugged, Ren chuckled. “Guilty as charged, Detective Niijima…” At the very least his perpetual search for Morgana would stop, and he’d be in good hands. Both of them proceeded to take a seat back down, and Sojiro went back to the kitchen to cook the rest of their curry stew.

Though brief, it was nice to find the cafe getting livelier even if they didn’t visit as often. However, that peace would soon be disrupted. As soon as Ren thought it’d be quiet and safe, and when he was ready to not let work get in the way of delicious curry and coffee, he saw a figure standing out at the door, dressed in all black and with a surgical mask. There was no question who it was, staring back at him with a subdued and tired gaze.

…Akechi?

He leaned out some more out of the booth, and she ran off immediately. While he wanted to step out and catch her,  Makoto peeked out from her seat as well and held him back. “You alright?”

Ren took a small sigh and sat back down, rubbing his temples. “Sorry,” he repeated himself again, “must’ve been my imagination.”

Quietly, he found his hand getting brushed over by Makoto’s, with her face filled with modest concern. “...Are you remembering that day again…?” She asked, tilting her head.

“No. And I’m good, thank you.” Ren reaffirmed, sinking into the comfort of the seat. “I thought I saw someone familiar. Turns out it was the sway of the trees nearby.”

“How about we hit batting cages after we eat? Get some nice exercise in while we get our minds off of things, too?”

He simply nodded in agreement. Up next came a hot steaming plate of curry for the both of them. “And here we are,” Sojiro announced confidently, “enjoy yourselves.”

“Thanks boss.” Ren said, smiling, digging into the first bite. As always, the way Sojiro made it ended up better than his…almost. Something about the sweetness mixing together with the mild spices was something Ren could never get right, and it could’ve been something as simple as a temperature adjustment.

Nevertheless, this was but a quiet moment between Makoto and Ren. After taking a few bites, Ren peered over to the folder again, sitting neatly away in order to prevent a mess. He swallowed his portion of curry before speaking. “Same routine as always?”

Glancing back up to him as she took another spoonful, they didn’t need to say what was on their minds. She only nodded. “Let’s focus on relaxing a bit before work comes back to play, okay?” Makoto said after downing another spoonful of curry.

He shrugged and chuckled. Who was he to disagree, really? The case was still young, and he wasn’t being asked to follow up on The Black Mask cases.

The shopkeeper’s bell twinkled again. “Sojiro!” A high pitched voice called out loudly, causing both Ren and Makoto a slight amount of alarm. “I hunger!”

“Oh, Futaba-chan…” Sojiro grinned, adjusting his glasses. “One more plate of curry, coming right up.”

Looking up from their meal, Futaba came into the cafe holding a pristine Phoenix Ranger Featherman figurine in both of her hands. Happily, she skipped and planted herself on one of the stools in the front. “Check out the goods I got at Akihabara!”

“That’s very nice, Futaba.” Sojiro said, raising his thumb in approval. “How many’s in your collection now?”

“Too many to count,” she remarked, setting the figurine box down. Her attention immediately shifted over to Morgana, who was cautiously approaching. “Aw he’s finally up. C’mere, voidling!”

She immediately picked him up, setting him on the table and began incessantly giving him scritches. He meowed loudly.

Sojiro stopped stirring the pot temporarily. “And your mom?”

“She went back home to rest. Did you wanna get her a helping too?”

He nodded, taking out another container upon hearing from his daughter.

Ren raised an eyebrow and took a quick glance back to Makoto, who was equally holding back her laugh as always. He stood up again, fork clattering against the plate. As he approached Futaba, he got up close to her. “Pulling cat aggro in my spot, huh?”

Her stance changed dramatically, back straightening up. “Ren!” She said, turning around. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you two were here!”

“No excuses for getting ganked on your six. You died.” Ren joked, lightly giving Morgana more scratches. “You be good to him.”

“The cat police are going to arrest you, Mona…for being oh so adorable that is!” Futaba giggled and continued on with her assault on him.

With that, Ren sat back down and continued his meal. True to her word and after their lunch, they hit up the batting cages, admit two. Makoto was the first to step up to the plate, since she was the one paying for it. Ren took the next available area across from her, picking up a bat and tapping his foot on the home plate. Shortly afterwards, the first ball flew at him, and he took a hard swing.

Clack. The ball soared out into the far left fields of the cages. Makoto’s automated thrower immediately shot afterwards, and she missed. For all of his time knowing her, Ren never particularly saw Makoto as one who was pretty good at baseball. She tapped the plate again, and her bat only connected briefly with the baseball before it spun wildly in the air and flopped down unceremoniously.

Even if they missed, it didn’t matter. They were here to blow off steam.

Another tap from his foot led to another baseball flying at him. Once more, he swung.

Crack.

The ball flew directly straight, hitting the green net. Ren didn’t hesitate to get another ball, tapping his foot to send the next one in.

Crack. Crack…

Ren swung both times, hitting away. He took a small breather and checked in on Makoto. Much to her luck, her tertiary baseball managed to connect, and she hit a home run with the jingle playing shortly afterwards. Pumping her fist, she laughed. “Did you see that?”

“I did,” Ren grinned with acknowledgement. “Good job. But I can’t be beaten here!”

He tapped his foot on the plate again. The ball flew, and something…else, happened.

Ren heard a harsh clang against his bat. The ball clearly flew past him safely into the green net with a dull thud. He furrowed his eyebrows, shaking his head a little.

I missed…that’s a first in a long while.

“Let me try again.” Ren said, tapping the plate. Another ball flew towards him, and his strike was straight and true, right into the bullseye. The home run jingle played, and he smiled back at Makoto, who was clapping for him. “Wanna see me do it again?”

Feeling confident, his smile remained as Makoto cheered him on. He swung the bat. Another crack rang out in the field.

No ball was sent - but he for sure saw it, and he could prove it if he knew where the ball landed. As he investigated, Ren’s gaze glanced down to the floor, and a wave of dizziness overwhelmed him at first. On his feet, his eyes widened to the horror before him. A brutalized body, bloodied, crawled slowly on the otherwise pristinely green finish of the batting cages.

The body, once it became clearer to him, had no arms. It somehow managed to slowly slap the plate with its own face, groaning at the effort. A ball came at an accelerated pace towards Ren, and he instinctively swung - another clack dinged against his bat.

What seemed like an impossibility arose from the floor, letting out an inhuman groan, as if it was saying something.

In a panic, Ren took a small step back as his breath quickened. His grip tightened up against the handle, as the mangled corpse slowly trudged towards him. Out of nowhere, he started swinging haplessly.

The crack of metal against bone rang out in his ears, and they were not staying down, only approaching him closer and closer. “D…De…ctive…” The corpse’s hoarse and wet voice whispered out to him.

Stop.

Ren began swinging wildly at the corpse, each and every bit of its body crunching uncomfortably at his swings. He began aiming for their skull, leading to an even more horrifying crack.

Stop…!

I said I sorry, didn’t I?!

Leave me alone…!

I’m sorry! I…I’m sorry…!

His swings halted once he felt a warm press of a hand up on his shoulders. “Ren…?” Makoto’s voice softly called out to him. Her other arm was preoccupied holding back his bat.

He turned over to her, hands shaking and out of breath. A quiet pang reverberated from his heart, and he suddenly felt like he was holding back tears. He checked what was in front of him again - no corpse to be found, no blood staining the floor. All the baseballs meant to be thrown at him were exhausted, having clearly missed him from the times he was swinging.

“I’m here, what happened…?” Makoto asked, worry laced in her eyes again. She managed to disarm him, letting the bat clank down on the floor.

Balling and unballing his fists, Ren pursed his lips and eased up his stance. “I…I don’t know.” He softly muttered, turning away from her to catch his breath. Even he was at a loss for words.

Even he knew who that corpse belonged to. Even after a few days post-incident with the brothel, the image of the massacre still haunted him. It hurt worse knowing he was the one responsible for letting this happen - and the ensuing kills, even out of mercy, was not something so easy to digest for him.

A small warmth brushed up against him, followed by arms clinging to him. Makoto, for all intents and purposes, had hugged him from behind. “Ren…” She whispered into his ear. “...Maybe it’s a good idea for you to go home early tonight, or at least…visit Dr. Maruki before you do.”

And maybe he should. After departing from the batting cages, Ren remained uncomfortably silent on the drive back to the offices. Akihiko and Chie elected to drive him, leaving Makoto to the case ahead and to do both interrogation and potentially scouting out locations for stakeouts.

March 16th, 20XX
Late Afternoon
Dr. Maruki’s Office

The drive up to Dr. Maruki was also uneventful. Ren sat behind both Akihiko and Chie in their own unmarked car, and much to Chie’s chagrin, she didn’t like what she was seeing from him. White noise silenced any conversation Ren could be paying attention to. Their mouths moved, but he couldn’t hear anything. If he tried to lip-read and pair their body language, it was clear she was upset, and Akihiko was trying to defend him.

Something about him being shaken up still from his kidnapping all those months ago. How Akihiko should’ve never played that footage of The Black Mask and the call. Everything became a blur to Ren overall.

When they arrived, Ren felt himself get escorted inside as he sat in a sterile white waiting room. Several other officers emerged, having concluded their meeting with Dr. Maruki as is. When it was his turn, it took some time for Ren to even acknowledge it.

“...Amamiya?” Dr. Maruki called out to him again. 

Akihiko elbowed him in the ribs. “Hey. He’s here, man.”

After blinking several times, Ren took his time to get up, shuffling over to Dr. Maruki’s office space. He remained warm, with an empathetic smile. “Come in, Detective. Have a seat.”

The door shut behind the both of them, and Ren did as he was ordered. He sat down, exhaling as he remained spacing out. There was plenty of sun outside as the window curtains were rolled up. Maruki sat down across from him, clasping his hands together.

“How are things?” He asked gently to Ren.

“...Fine, I guess.” Ren whispered. “I really don’t know what happened.”

“Niijima filled me in on it, so don’t worry about that!” Maruki said, grinning and gently laughing. “I figured this meeting would’ve been under better circumstances, granted…but it’s still wonderful to see you agreeing to see me.”

With one smooth motion, Maruki glided his mouse over to his computer and clicked a few times. Ren pressed his legs together, and took in a few deep breaths to help his unease.

After a few moments, Maruki’s attention turned back to him, scooting his office chair closer towards the couch Ren was sitting at. “We’re going to be doing a few different things. Namely, I’m going to try my best to make you think of something else. Will that be alright with you?”

Ren only nodded, and Maruki responded in kind. “Great! Let’s start with an easy question: Over the past few weeks, how would you describe your state of being?”

“...Bad.” Ren concluded. “I’ve been experiencing a lot of bad things. Like living in a nightmare.”

“It’s no surprise there,” Maruki nodded intently, jotting down all the information at hand. “You’ve been kidnapped and beaten within an inch of your life, your apartment burns down…and you’re likely suffering post-traumatic brain injuries.” He set his pen down briefly. “Tell me about these nightmares.”

The truth was, unfortunately, that his reality was like living in a nightmare. How else was he supposed to tell Maruki about the fact he’s been in a blood vow of marriage with the most dangerous serial killer active in Tokyo, and that he’d been killing people already?

Once more, he nervously swallowed. “When I go to bed, some nights I’m dreaming that I am…a nocturnal predator that doesn’t exist.”

“Would you mind elaborating?” Maruki asked, jotting down notes.

“In my dreams as a predator, I’m bipedal, and everywhere I go I only smell blood. It feels like I’m a monster you only hear about in stories. All of my prey are humans, and no matter what I want to do, I end up stalking them.”

“Let’s suppose in this hypothetical,” Maruki began, setting down his notepad, “you are that predator. How do you feel? Do you enjoy hurting others in your dream even if you’ve never met them?”

“No.” Ren said swiftly. “I mean I have control over certain things, and more often than not it’s trying to avoid killing. But…”

“You’re finding yourself unable to do anything but kill.” Maruki completed the sentence. “Not because it is in your nature, but because…again - hypothetical - you can’t see a way out.”

He nodded at Maruki’s interpretation before wetting his lips. “It’s been recurring. I’m finding places that I’ve been to in reality, in that dream. The office space, my new home…the batting cages.”

With another reaffirming nod, Maruki jotted all of that down. “Combine that with the stress of working as a civil servant, and witnessing the horrors of society, it’s really no wonder you had such a strong reaction, or so Detective Niijima told me.”

There was a long and deliberate pause as Maruki debated what to do next, placing his index and thumb over his own mouth, the other free hand of his rhythmically tapping his desk. After some time, he clicked his tongue.

 “Let’s do another exercise, one of my own expertises, shall we?” He asked, smiling. “I want you to tell me the good things that have happened these past few weeks. Even if you had a bad day, there must’ve been one small thing that made it slightly better. Like, a peculiar food you’ve sampled, or, even a nice little pop to your back that’s been bugging you.”

Ren gave it some thought, sitting in the stillness of the office. His eyes moved back and forth, scanning the carpet flooring, trying his best to ignore all the grotesque imagery his mind was filled with - mutilated corpses, the sight of Shido’s mangled body hidden in the shadows, and the bodies that would quickly turn lifeless as he ended them.

A birthday party with the dim golden glow appeared in his memories. Futaba’s birthday. His mind ran rampant with connective others - the stray cat, Morgana, and how he could finally be at ease, aware that they were being taken care of by people he trusted. Working with Makoto again on a case, even if it had been a while.

…a certain someone’s wonderful smile, and how she carried herself back in the day they went out together, even when she was deeply injured and needed rest. The first time he ever felt at ease within her presence, fully intending to keep the peace that way. Her warmth as she pressed up against him, blindly ignorant to how close she was to him, and the ensuing brush of their skin together.

Even when she was angry at him, he could see past that in her soft, earthly eyes, even when she was soaked in nothing more than death and disdain. Foolish as it may be, Ren subconsciously kept his mind on her specifically, smiling.

Maruki saw this, and smiled along with him. “Have you found something?”

Ren bit his lip and nodded. “I’ve been seeing someone new in my life.”

With a click of his pen, Maruki pressed down on the paper. “Tell me about them. How did you two meet, and why in particular, them?”

She’s the serial killer I’m after…and I’m clearly brain-damaged because I think she’s cute and I want her to know I am there for her.

A million thoughts passed by Ren at how god-awful the circumstances would be if he told the truth. Instead, he defaulted over to the lie he came up with. “Yokohama University. We met back in college, first year. She’s… different. Intelligent, but not really a people person.”

He smiled to himself when he mentioned her being different. It wasn’t exactly a lie, either.

Maruki couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. “I’ve seen that look before. But tell me…aside from the fact I’m led to believe you think she’s beautiful, there must be something more, correct?"

Once again, Ren wore his heart directly on his sleeves. He chuckled at how stupid it all sounded, but nevertheless agreed. “She…gives me a newfound purpose of sorts. But I worry if what I’m doing is making her worse.”

“What’s her name?” Maruki inquired further.

“It’s…” Ren paused temporarily. Either he could give the doctor her pseudonym of Goromi, or he could give her the name she gave him. It might feel better if it was the latter. “Akechi.” He replied.

Having tilted his head, Maruki pursed his lips this time. “Curious. What’s the correlation between your goals and Akechi’s wellbeing?”

Convoluted is what’s up, Ren thought to himself. He sighed and shook his head. “I think she’s not good at expressing how she really feels. Most of my interactions with her are reciprocated. I can be close, give her physical affection and she’ll be fine with it, but…anything further and she withdraws.”

Thinking back on it, Ren tapped both of his index fingers together and felt hot in his face. “And it’s not like she doesn’t like it either…we uh…” He nervously laughed. “I’ve kissed her already. She really liked it, but trying again hasn’t yielded results.”

As per usual, Maruki wrote notes down and hummed. “It certainly sounds like a uniquely special situation you’re in, Detective. I get the feeling she likely values you in a similar way, but she can’t outright say it either.”

“...Yeah.” Ren agreed.

Having set his notebook away back at his desk, Maruki gave a satisfied look after settling back in. “Do you know my method of trying to help others, Detective?” He asked, and Ren shook his head. Maruki gave a soft chuckle and grinned. “It’s Maslow’s concept of self-actualization. I try to help guide others to be the very best they can be, and what I've learned extensively derives from positive psychology, because sometimes, facing your problems head on won’t work the way it’s intended if you are not in the right headspace.”

He raised his hands up and gave a gesture similar to patting the air. “What I mean to say is, if you keep Akechi in your heart and mind, and perhaps persist in your endeavors to reach her, then you’ll be pleasantly surprised at the outcome if you can manage to spot tells in more than just her body language.”

If only she were knowable like that, Dr. Maruki.

Ren clicked his tongue nevertheless, and nodded.

“I may not be aware of all the aspects in play, like her parentage, or what goes on in her head. The way I see it, as a professional consideration?” He steepled his hands together and smiled. “Give her some time to figure out how that intimacy between you two can be met halfway. I think your analysis of her is astute as well - people can be emotionally intelligent about what love can mean, but that does not entail the maturity to process and reciprocate accordingly, especially if it’s a persistent one.”

“...Simplified?” Ren asked.

Maruki sighed before laughing at himself. “Okay. She’s smart, yes. And given what little I may be aware of, it feels like there is something there. But she doesn’t know how to express that love back to you. At least, not yet.” He expanded his arms out. “Is that better?”

Ren nodded, and Maruki reciprocated. “Fantastic. So, rolling back around, notice something different? We’re going to return back to why we’re here to begin with. How do you feel now, after talking about her?”

He scanned his environment, looking around. “...Better, actually.” Ren commented. He hummed to himself and rubbed his chin. “Huh.”

Maruki interjected, clapping hands together. “Now, this isn’t me objectively saying love will conquer your nightmares, but it’s the positivity of what you’ve been feeling about her that I want you to focus on and think about after today. What other experiences can you tell me that don’t include her?”

Without much effort, Ren scratched his head and started from the top. “Well there has been something else that’s been happening. In my spare time I’m out wandering and finding stray cats to feed and…”

The conversation continued on for quite some time. By the end of it, Ren practically laid out all of his positive moments over the past several weeks, mentioning Futaba, Makoto, Sojiro, every little aspect that made an impression on him. Even Mina was included, and that would remain under strict confidentiality as a need-to-know basis between him and the doctor.

By the end of it, Ren walked out of the office with a light smile on his face, encountering Akihiko half-asleep from the long wait, magazine covering his face, and Chie watching something on her phone. From his perspective, it looked like a cheesy kung fu film. She looked up from her showing, and repeatedly shook Akihiko. “He’s done,” Chie whispered.

Akihiko groaned, sliding the magazine out from his view. “How long has it been…?”

“I dunno…an hour?” Chie asked, staring back at Ren.

“An hour.” Ren confirmed.

“Sheesh,” Akihiko sighed, standing up to stretch. “Shoulda went out and walked…didn’t expect it to be that long. How was it though?”

“Surprisingly effective.” Ren replied back, crossing his arms. “He said I’d be alright. Just consider the positives of my life, and that I’m just stressed.”

“Sounds like typical therapist bullshit to me alright,” Akihiko said. “I mean he ain’t wrong. Shinji never wanted me to look at the downsides of anything either, but I didn’t need a professional to tell me that.”

“Relax Aki,” Chie said, turning her phone off. “Sometimes the best medicine for people like us is a second opinion! Nothing wrong with that. And besides, whatever Ren’s been going through? He’s lucky to have people like us watching his back, yeah?”

“I can’t disagree with that,” Akihiko said, nodding. His gaze shifted over to Ren. “Ready to go back to the office?”

Rolling his shoulders and neck, Ren nodded once again. “I feel bad Makoto’s gotta put up with my issues too.”

Chie scoffed and squinted at him. “Dude, don’t say that. Most guys hate talking about their problems head on. If anything, she’d be glad you’re trying to help yourself the right way!”

“Alright,” Akihiko interrupted, slinging his coat back around. “We gotta focus on our own cases. The Black Mask ain’t getting found by us, and Miss Takao still needs you two to find her as well. So, let’s go?”

Everybody headed out of the office afterwards, with Ren descending the stairwell last. Akihiko started up the car and Chie got into the passenger seat, freely opening the back for Ren to easily slip in. Just before he had a chance, out in the corner of his eye, he spotted her.

Akechi. 

Still stalking him in an alleyway in a corner. By now he’d been wary of her presence, and this time…this was plenty obvious what she was trying to do, checking up on him. He’d have to connect with her when he gets home, and not just by small gestures. When he perceived her, Akechi blended back into the shadows, receding into the alleyway.

March 16th, 20XX
Late Evening
Ren and Akechi’s Safehouse

After another long day at work, Ren returned home, bag in hand. The elevator doors slid open and the dim lights of the foyer leading into the kitchen and living room persisted. Instead of music, live television was playing in the background as Ren entered, slipping off his shoes for the night.

“I’m home,” he announced. From the distance, he witnessed Akechi quietly watching TV, and she didn’t acknowledge him as usual. True to what he saw in the earlier days, she was wearing the same baggy clothes with her hoodie off, and her feet curled closely to her body.

Much to his surprise, Phoenix Ranger Featherman was playing on a rerun, and he wasn’t quite sure which series this one was. On screen, a menacing and brooding Ranger in gray and gold was having an argument with one of the Reds. Not that Ren was paying much attention, it was being preoccupied with Akechi.

Making his way over to the sunken living room, he began to notice a few things: A cup of coffee was almost fully drunk, and the omurice he made her for dinner was eaten at least three-quarters of the way.

She’s eaten? Good.

He went to pick up the plate and cup, and as he crouched down, he noticed that she was asleep, cuddling with one of the throw pillows on the couch. Given her erratic schedule for the past few days, it wasn’t exactly a surprise. Still, a part of him was content that she was allowing herself to rest.

For now, he picked up both of her leftovers and set the omurice plate on the countertop, and filled the cup of coffee with water. After quietly returning back to the living room, taking his coat off, the least he could do is keep her company and finish the episode before turning it off.

Getting comfortable, Ren sank into the couch next to her, lowering the volume so as to not disturb Akechi’s rest. Feather Raven, the Gray Ranger, was in a peaceful moment with Red Eagle, the current leader of the Phoenix Rangers. A several minutes long montage of combat stills was on display from earlier, recounting a fight between the two.

“We’re a team, Feather Raven, we have to protect each other! You don’t have to follow Feather Falcon’s footsteps, we can stop Lord Malice and Oblivion at the same time!” Red Eagle shouted.

“That’s the problem, Eagle,” Raven retorted back with an artificially adjusted voice, turning their back to him. “I have no such weaknesses such as friendship. The moment you open yourself up, you have something to exploit. I can’t afford that.”

Red Eagle immediately stepped in the way of them. “Lord Malice cannot be fought alone. Will you not reconsider, Yoru-san…? After all I’ve done for you?”

The underground hideout shook violently, and all of a sudden, the rest of the Phoenix Rangers arrived to back up Red Eagle, battle stance at the ready. 

Feather Raven firmly stood against them all. The audio cue for a dramatic stinger dropped, and the camera zoomed in on their masked figure. The shot changed to their hand curling up into a fist before swapping back to a shot of their mask. A moment of indecision, and then…

To be continued! Tune in for the next episode, “The Sixth Ranger’s Identity Revealed! Red Eagle’s Hidden Interest?!”

“Dammit.” Ren quietly cursed to himself. He only managed to catch the last ten minutes of the episode. “So much for that…”

With the flick of the remote, the TV blipped, and bathed the room in another calm silence, leaving only his breathing and Akechi’s as noise. He stole a glance over to her. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if she crashed down here, he could give her a blanket and her pillow, and she’d wake up in comfort.

Just as he was about to head upstairs and grab her things, Akechi began wildly thrashing out, jerking her entire body. It gave Ren concern, as he flinched back on the couch. “Akechi…?” He called out to her.

Not that she was able to hear anything, either. Upon further inspection, he found her sweating and having hitched breathing. “Akechi.” Ren softly whispered, placing a hand and gently shaking her. He slipped off of the couch and got on his knees and in front of her.

Akechi’s eyes slowly cracked open as her breathing steadied. Immediately, her gaze searched for him, only for said eyes to squint. She didn’t say anything to him, only closing her eyes back and taking a deep, hard breath.

“Are you alright?” Ren asked, taking her pillow away from her. She allowed it, curling her legs up for support.

“That’s none of your concern.” Akechi spat out with a coarse tone.

He placed his hands on her lap, getting closer to her. She opened her eyes slightly wider when he crouched down to her level. “Why did you come looking for me today? You should’ve been resting.”

“I did no such thing,” Akechi replied, scoffing. “You are clearly mistaken.”

It only caused Ren to hum, thinking up of something. She, however, had no interest in continuing this conversation. “Leave me be.”

“I see you ate what I left for you. Should I be flattered?” Ren smirked, raising an eyebrow. “I probably should. My wife appreciates my cooking.”

“Enough.” Akechi lightly pushed him away, scooting over so she had space to stand up. A part of her stumbled, partially from exhaustion. Ren’s legs hit the coffee table, enough to clatter, but not enough for him to stumble. “I don’t understand why you still try.”

“I was considering getting a softer pillow and a blanket for you so you could rest. Are you heading upstairs?” Ren, in classic fashion, deflected any of her abrasiveness, instead focusing on what mattered after.

She said nothing, only trudging along. Another breath exited her lungs out of exhaustion when she ascended the stairs. Even without saying another word, Ren could tell she was doing exactly as he suspected. “...I’ll be in my room in case you need me.”

Again, no response. Akechi merely got to the second floor, leaving Ren downstairs. He didn’t know what else to do aside from wash the dishes, and maybe turn in for the night. Come tomorrow, a new case awaited, and she still wasn’t ready to talk.

He did so, but not without letting his own work go to waste. A quarter of the omurice still remained, and without her eating it, he felt compelled to finish it on her behalf. Good meals were not meant to be wasted. He threw the plate back into the microwave, letting it heat back up as he rinsed the cup of coffee with light soap and water. When it finished heating, Ren took it out alongside a fresh fork.

It wasn’t much, and clearly reheating food he made the morning of again wasn’t going to taste like it was meant to be. The flavor profiling was already a mess, the eggs and the ketchup didn’t blend as well as it should, and the mushrooms hardened over time instead of remaining tender. The beef dried out, to be expected.

Nevertheless, this was both her mess and his to finish. A couple bites and it was done, just as he was for the night. With the plate scrubbed clean of any grime and dried off, Ren placed it in a drying tray, and turned off the lights downstairs.

For the rest of the night, mundanity returned as usual. When he finally slipped into bed, he wrapped his blankets around him, getting comfortable as the mattress sank to accommodate his figure. Drifting off slowly, there was a rather unaddressed part of his night he didn’t account for, and only one he peered into the darkness.

His door remained ajar, as it normally was. When he went to bed, he noticed Akechi’s door was still open as well. Thinking nothing of it, a part of him knew she’d swing around to watch over him for the night, and it turned out to be right.

Out of the door frame, peeking in slightly, were a pair of eyes aimed directly at him, ones he briefly squinted at and remained still on. Sounds of footsteps receding were heard minutes later, as Akechi retreated back into her room, and Ren couldn’t help himself but smile as the night took him.

Chapter Text

“A man is never more truthful than when he acknowledges himself a liar.” - Mark Twain

March 17th, 20XX
Late Morning
SIU Offices

“Thirteen lettered word…” Makoto muttered to herself, tapping the pencil on a newspaper crossword puzzle. Her eyes wandered around the interior of her cruiser. “Hmm…”

The passenger door opened up shortly afterwards, with Ren sitting down. After clicking on his seatbelt, he let out a deep sigh. “This couldn’t have waited until we got into the office?” He asked, checking his phone one more time.

Several hours ago, earlier in the morning as Ren awoke from his slumber, a new notification pushed forward denoting that he was to meet up with Makoto in their cruiser. Do not appear in the offices. The text originated from Chie.

His partner shrugged, folding the newspaper. “Akihiko told me the same thing. Whatever it is, they must’ve found something about The Black Mask…”

A moment of silence passed between the two of them before Makoto quietly slid over the newspaper and pencil over to Ren. “You know, I can’t solve this. Do you mind helping me with it?”

Curiously, Ren took a glance at the puzzle and picked it up, reading out the hint.

“A thirteen lettered word denoting the obligation of producing probable truth in evidence. No spaces.” He said aloud, scanning the puzzle. Most of it wasn’t filled out yet, but would’ve provided a swath of verbiage to help out. Slowly, his eyes furrowed. “That’s kind of hard.”

“I’m not crazy,” Makoto chuckled to herself, raising her hands up in vindication. “I should ask sis, but she’s busy, so…”

“I’ll think about it.” Ren nodded, folding the newspaper puzzle back inwards. Without another word, his eyes said it all: Let me take this puzzle home and I’ll solve it. Makoto agreed.

“Let’s see if we can’t find that lead?” Ren remarked.

As the car ignited its engine again, a phone call made its way over to Ren’s phone with Akihiko calling. Swiping right and enabling the speaker, he set it on the dashboard of the car as they drove forward.

“Hey Aki,” Ren warmly addressed. “So what’s the big deal?”

“Not even a major heads-up ahead of time. Must be important.” Makoto added.

“Yeah…” Akihiko groaned, a mild thud making its way out of the call as his phone hit the table. He sounded exhausted.

“So our biggest push so far is…well…” Chie responded, sighing deeply before continuing. “...We think The Black Mask has an accomplice.”

The interior inside the car fell silent as the engine roars ran muffled. A quick glance from Makoto found itself over to Ren, who shot her an equally worried expression. A small bead of sweat dripped down his brow, before clearing his throat. “How do you figure?”

Chie clicked her tongue, taking in a deep, elongated breath. “We…sent the corpses over for analysis with the coroner. Get this: Most of their bones were crushed with blunt force trauma. That matches up with what we know about her, right?”

“Yeah?” Ren replied.

 “There’s somethin’ else,” Akihiko commandeered the call. “Stab wounds. They’re pretty shallow. Looks highly unprofessional. Whatever mangled body remains, we keep finding incisions.”

“Well shit…” Makoto whispered as the car steadily halted at a red light. “Any other pieces of evidence? Fingerprints, weapons at the scene?”

“She’s fuckin’ meticulous, I tell you what,” Akihiko continued. “The fact it took ‘em ‘til decomposition to be found meant she had the situation on lockdown. No way she was sloppy enough to leave a damn thing here, all we got is blood, and that shit ain’t gonna help beyond identifying fifteen bodies.”

It probably smells horrible too, Ren thought, shuddering to himself.

“On my end, they got me to look into that brothel. I’ve never seen so many dead people cut to shreds.” Akihiko fell silent after declaring that. At some point, he spoke up again. “I uh…I found some bodies belonging to some of our guys too. In a sea of other criminals.”

“Dirty cops? Color me surprised.” Ren replied bluntly. However, he also saw a new opportunity. “Wait. You said ‘cut to shreds’. That’s not her motif.”

“And it isn’t. But there’s traces of people killed with a blunt object.” Akihiko commented. “We haven’t sent those bodies out yet, but…it doesn’t remove the suspicion of an accomplice. Besides, we don’t know if she’s limiting herself to that. You remember the other bodies we got at the conference. Some dude’s dick and balls got cut off. You aren’t here to see the pile of someone’s intestines like they’ve been butchered.”

“I think Detective Amamiya means in recent times,” Makoto backed him up, her grip against the steering wheel tightening. “Because as much as I hate to say it --” 

“Look, guys…” Chie interjected, laughing nervously. “The media’s growing desperate for updates, and we can keep talking about her kills all day long. But the short of it is…with no other options, we plan to tell them that they might have an accomplice, and that’s the best we have.”

“Much as I hate to say it,” Akihiko jumped in as well, “We still don’t know if it’s a really good idea to get them info that The Black Mask is a woman. I agreed, but I’m being outvoted by the entire precinct disagreeing because of mass hysteria.” Akihiko said. “She is an anomaly that I’m not sure Tokyo is ready to think about.”

A silence befell them once again as the car rolled along sluggishly.

“...Anything else?” Ren eventually asked, swallowing nervously.

A small laugh emerged out of her. “Wish we swapped assignments…I’d take a look for a missing person over visiting the morgue any day of the week!”

He laughed along, picking up his phone. “Alright Chie, thanks for the update…hey, why couldn’t this have been in text?”

A quiet scoff was heard. “We haven’t slept since yesterday. Akihiko, more than me, he told me to get some shuteye, so I napped for a bit…”

“It’d be easier to just say it outright Ren,” Akihiko chimed in, letting his tiredness be more apparent with a half-assed tone. “Autocorrect on my phone isn’t gonna save me.”

Only then did Ren and Makoto laugh together about that. “Okay. Get some rest now, alright?” Makoto warmly said. “We’ll see you soon.”

Ren hung the phone up and stuffed his phone back into his coat pocket, uncomfortably leaning into his seat, pushing up his glasses.

Shit. Shit shit shit…

But he wasn’t sloppy. Far from it. Unfortunately for Ren, it wasn’t a matter of that - it was the fact that being raised as an accomplice would further implicate worse things. The precinct at the very least got off his back on that, and thus the allegations were dropped over time.

“An accomplice, eh?” Makoto softly asked. “That’s concerning, but also not a huge surprise…”

“...Yeah.” Ren poorly choked out. His attention returned back to Makoto, who remained focused on the road. “Where’s our lead taking us?”

“Kita City.” Makoto said. “I found some threads we could pull. Standard connections with informants, not really anything off the beaten path.”

That only ever means stakeouts.

Ren smiled and nodded. “Alright…I’ll take the first watch.”

…

The late morning turned into a later afternoon before any of the two detectives would find anything. Per Makoto’s leads, she found an unconventional site for a gambling den with ties to the yakuza. Most of Ren’s watch ended up being from inside the car, and thankfully the air didn’t become stale as time passed along thanks to a small crack in the window.

Maybe Chie had something going for her. Ren would rather be taking on Akechi’s case instead of following up on a lead for a missing person. The only reason he wasn’t, was largely because of his close encounter with her.

Parked several car lengths away, the den in question didn’t have a whole lot going for it at its front. Ren ended up reviewing the case files whilst Makoto went about finding out other matters, such as what their lunch would be, or the easiest places to reach a bathroom if they needed it. As for the case, the only thing he got was a last name - Ikenami - and some scruffy looking guy in a mugshot to work with. Typical bad boy type of look, not exactly hard to spot out in a crowd.

In the downtime, he tried his best with the crossword puzzle. With the newspaper opened back up, pen at the ready, this would be easier if Ren could figure out the other words. Looking at another hint nearby, he mouthed it to himself.

To discern and compare opinions to gauge a final truth.

Judgement. That was simple enough. Clicking his pen, he wrote it in. The next words followed soon after - litigation, adjournment, so on and so forth. The last quarter of the puzzle was incomplete, and the word that eluded him would be the key. Alas, mental exhaustion got the better of him.

There was a plan. Makoto even got a warrant this time around if he didn’t want to come willingly or comply with their questions. As it turns out, he wasn’t willing to get caught even when they had nothing on him.

That concept, however, turned out to be less than simple.

“STOP RUNNING!” Makoto shouted at the top of her lungs, giving hot pursuit to Ikenami across the neighborhood. “WE’RE NOT HERE TO ARREST YOU!”

“LIKE HELL YOU AREN’T!” Ikenami yelled back, sprinting full steam ahead. All in the while, Ren lagged behind the both of them.

Their small interrogation - for sure, not an arrest - was supposed to be easy, and it started as much at the start. When Makoto returned over with a bag full of yakisoba-pans for their stakeout and a couple of drinks, he managed to spot him entering into the den and stepping back out for a smoke. 

As Ren gasped for breath, notably far behind Makoto and Ikenami’s chase, he coughed a few times whilst turning his sprint into a jog. “God dammit!” He cursed, cutting his jog into a slow march, panting with his palms on his knees for support. Light-headed, he closed his eyes shut and raised his head up.

I really gotta get in shape again…

It didn’t take long for him to lose much motivation to keep going, with Ren turning his back against a wall and sliding down. If this were him three months ago he might’ve kept up, but now? Not so much.

Two months off duty and a lot of body harm to heal back up was not easy on his body. Pushing it consistently, also not exactly the best thing to be doing after all that rest.

Eventually, Makoto’s figure returned in the distance. She, too, came out of breath - but not without another criminal who wasn’t Ikenami. “He…got away…” Makoto said disappointingly. “I got held up trying to deal with his friends…but! We got a winner.”

The criminal before them was one of his said friends, this time with black slicked back hair and a few minor bruises, and a bloody nose. Makoto wasn’t exactly clean out of a scuffle either, as Ren noticed. Her lip was cut open and bleeding slightly, and she had a few scrapes of her own. Having caught his breath, Ren stood back up, stumbling momentarily. “Let’s make this real easy alright?”

“My thoughts exactly…” Makoto slowly chuckled.

“Ya ain’t got a fuckin’ warrant to take me in!” The criminal cried.

“Relax,” Makoto commanded, tugging at his handcuffs tightly. “We want answers. If you genuinely thought we’d be arresting you for anything else, we would’ve done it already.”

“We aren’t going to book you if you do comply.” Ren said. “Now, let’s start,” he added, grabbing his notebook and pen out of his coat pocket. “We’re looking for a woman.”

“You got one right here bro, why don’t you ask her?” He shot back mockingly, trying his best to laugh despite his inherent pain.

Ren was not amused. “Moving along,” he began again, “Have you heard of any dealings with an accountant for a business firm associated with the Arakawa Family?”

“Go back to hell.” The criminal spat out, only to get restrained harder by Makoto. “Agh! Hey hey hey!” He cried.

Makoto pulled back on his cuffs and forced him to look at her partner. “Comply. I’m done being nice.”

“Look,” Ren said, putting his notebook aside. “Your captain is a well intentioned informant for us. He’s looking out for you guys, and his family. In exchange for keeping the peace, he gives us leads. How do you think we know where your den was?”

Eventually, after he gave a long look at Ren, who stared back at him as well, he straightened up and groaned loudly. “Fine. You bitches wanna know so bad…” He sighed and rolled his jaw, with Ren picking his notebook back up. “Tale as old as time. Rival clans. Supposed to be down each other’s throats, but now they ain’t. For some reason they teamed up and started attackin’ us near Ikebukuro. The Takeda Firm.”

…Ikebukuro again?

Ren jotted down the location. “What else?”

The criminal licked his bloodied lips and gave it some thought. “I dunno what’s goin’ on out there. I keep hearing that someone’s making power plays, and we’re staying out of it. Not our fight.” He looked at both detectives, as if they were still waiting for more information. 

Begrudgingly, he shook his head. “Captain Tsuda told us it ain’t worth the trouble of stickin’ our noses up that ass. All I know is, whoever’s making the moves is trying to unite us. Most of us aren’t interested, but those who are, are definitely getting in bed with ‘em. If you want to look, check Ikebukuro. Check the firm again.”

Ren shot Makoto a look of acknowledgement. She nodded, and with some swift motions, she uncuffed the criminal - but didn’t let him go quite yet. “Name one of the clans.”

“...Fuck me.” He closed his eyes again and thought. “...Shibusawa’s family. Subsidiary of the Kazama Clan. Start there.”

She let him go, and he quickly swiped his arm out from under her. “Can I fucking leave now?”

“Go on.” Ren beckoned him to leave, jotting down the final bit of notes. He stuffed his notebook back into his coat pocket after unclicking his pen, witnessing the criminal leave their presence. With a deep exhale, Ren peered back at their cruiser. “This isn’t going to be easy.”

Makoto agreed, starting to get back to the car. “Absolutely not…and besides that, we need more info. Stopping a front is one thing, but that new person he mentioned, that isn’t good.”

Ren nodded, and off they went back inside.

Both of them got into the cruiser and made their way back to the station after a slow and busy drive back. Traffic became unbearable, as did their fatigue. Along the ride, they did in fact eat up their pan bread, although in Ren’s case he wasn’t all that hungry, mind preoccupied elsewhere. Along the way, he received a text from Dr. Maruki, just for a quick check-up. For all intents and purposes, Ren answered that he was feeling better today and didn’t feel the need for a follow-up so soon. 

Back at the office, Ren spent some time pushing out certain investigation leads to Ikebukuro pertaining to their yakuza organization, just for Makoto to mull over in her own spare time. For his sake, Ren was sent home early. For Makoto though, she stayed behind. Time was of the essence if she wanted to help track Eiko down. If anything new popped up, Ren was only one phone call away after all.

March 17th, 20XX
Evening
Ren and Akechi’s Safehouse

Eventually, Ren returned home, fairly exhausted from today’s little excursion. It wasn’t even the mental toll that’d be taking him out, it was the strenuous activity of running. Along the train ride, he considered potentially stopping by Protein Lovers for a workout, or even using the home gym.

But, more than that, he just wanted to spend more time with Akechi. When the elevator hit his designated floor, the immediate scent of coffee lingered in the air as he took off his coat immediately and hung it up on the hanger. True to what he’d been witnessing over the past few days, she was once again binge-watching Phoenix Ranger Featherman again.

“Hey.” He addressed her, sliding his hands around her shoulders. “I’m home.”

“I can see that.” Akechi said, her tone flat. She took a small sip out of her cup of coffee.

Ren’s eyes flicked over to his syphon coffee machine, and he noticed another mug ready. Heading on over to grab his share, and while waiting for the machine to finish it, he focused on the episode playing.

A big mech in the shape of a lion with a spiked helmet, reminiscent of a certain statue, rampaged around the city. A lone mech stood, vehemently challenging the lion. The group of Rangers, onboard their usual mecha, got to their battle stations.

“Come on!” Red Eagle roared, rallying his team. Slowly, the machine turned into a tall robot that matched the lion in size.

“What about Feather Raven?!” Pink Argus asked, finishing up the assembly of the mech. “You said it yourself, Lord Malice cannot be fought alone!”

“We’ll have to buy them time to get here,” Black Falcon replied. “And we can only hope Red Eagle’s words got through to them!”

Overly orchestrated music blared as a shot of the machine completed, complete with a dainty little sword and all of the colors of the team assembled. The next shot panned over to Lord Malice operating the lion, maniacally laughing. “Foolish Feathermen! You cannot stop me from consuming the will of the people and their desires to see a new Neo-Metropolis!”

Thus, a long and drawn out fight scene occurred.

The syphon slowly dripped Ren’s share of coffee as he slowly let the handle recede back. He required nothing else - no sugar, no cream. He just liked the taste and flavor profile of the beans. Gradually, Ren went over to take his seat on the couch with Akechi. Both of his hands were preoccupied, as he promised Makoto to figure out that crossroad puzzle.

While the show was continuing onwards, Ren flipped open the newspaper and gave it some thought, taking a sip of his coffee first before setting it down on the table. “No spaces…”

He circled the hint multiple times, leaving a deep impression upon it with the pen.

Half of his attention felt more compelled to watch the show than complete the puzzle. In between guessing, his eyes flicked up to witness the classic cartoonish levels of violence on display - exaggerated punching, buildings collapsing in real time. At the final moments of their showdown, with Lord Malice gaining the upper hand, he gloated in his usual demeanor.

A bright laser fired all the way in the background, and the camera panned over to zoom in on Feather Raven’s solo mecha. Just in the nick of time, they appeared, granting the Rangers enough time for a tactical retreat.

Whilst distracted and at the bottom of the newspaper, he saw something very unusual: Akechi’s hand slowly hovering over to him, as if he couldn’t see it. It lingered, trembling after a certain length was reached. 

Did she want to touch him, or was it something else? Pretending further, he looked at the next crossword answer, and falsely wrote something in it, penning out words in the air instead.

When he finished writing down the T in judgement, he set the newspaper down as a test. True enough, Akechi rescinded her hand, curling it into a fist and hiding it in her oversized hoodie. He pretended not to see anything, taking a sip of his coffee. Upon gazing at her, he found that Akechi was turning her cheek away while retaining her view of the TV.

“I’ve been thinking,” Ren said, in an attempt to clear the air, “I probably ruined our date night a few nights ago. Did you want to, maybe…start it up again?”

The only noise remained the unsuspecting team-up of Feather Raven at the final hour. Their mecha fused together with the Rangers. The next shot ended up being a collage of all six Rangers, unleashing a devastating rail of light against Lord Malice.

Akechi barely glanced back at him as she pursed her lips. “...Not right now.” Her eyes turned back to the show. “You are seriously starting to piss me off.”

A part of Ren knew that it was an obviously fabricated lie, especially considering how many times Akechi could’ve backed herself up with plausible deniability to her words. This was not one of those times.

“By all means then,” Ren proclaimed, taking his coffee cup, “I’ll leave you be for a bit. I want to get some exercise in.”

He stood up, scooting over her to witness the end of the fight on the command deck. While the rest of the Rangers were cheering, Red Eagle and Feather Raven moved away from the team, back into a quieter area of their mech. It didn’t take long for Ren to set aside the cup inside the gym on one of the flat surfaces. A change of clothes were in order - no way he’d be running in some jeans and his t-shirt.

Slowly heading upstairs, he caught the tail end of the big reveal unfolding as Akechi wanted intently. Feather Raven slowly took off their helmet.

Underneath was something that caught even him off-guard. It was the visage of a woman with a deep scar on her face, staring deeply back at Red Eagle, who also was unmasked. Cue the flashback sequence - years ago, Red Eagle, or ‘Hikaru’, as the subtitles swapped over, was deeply in a romantic relationship with Raven, or ‘Yoru’. The flashbacks were silent, interlaced with the cut back to both of them embracing, camera rotating in a dizzying manner.

Yoru spoke softly, clinging onto Hikaru. “My father…was Lord Malice. I thought if you knew that, you would hate me forever. I had to bury my feelings and throw away everything for more power.”

“Yoru-san…” Hikaru whispered back, holding her close. “How could I possibly hate you when you’ve been everything to me…? Come back to us.”

He could only rub his chin and smile softly. In a weird way, it felt like a good plot twist, at least for Phoenix Ranger Featherman standards. Ren turned back around and headed into his bedroom. He turned to his wardrobe, slipping into something else. 

Emerging back downstairs, the show ended on yet another cliffhanger - every Ranger unmasked, finding out the truth that the Gray Ranger was not, in fact, a man, despite their physically intimidating nature and ambiguous suit design. As the credits rolled, Ren stepped back inside the gym and got on the treadmill, putting in some arbitrary numbers and set himself into a jog.

With the house silent, save for himself on the treadmill, he must’ve worked up a nice sweat to start off with. How long was it? Ren’s gaze peered down on the timer. Fifteen minutes passed, and it felt more like an hour, and already exhausted. If he could make it to twenty, it’d be a success…

Slowly, the figure of Akechi appeared once Ren steadied himself. She had the newspaper and pen in her hand. “Preponderance.” She said, slowly coming up to him.

“What?” Ren asked, almost breathless, shifting his eyes over to her.

“The crossword puzzle.” She flipped it over to the puzzle. “The word you were struggling with was preponderance.”

Even if he didn’t want to stop, Ren felt compelled to. With a push of a button on the treadmill, the belt halted and he stepped off. Taking the newspaper gently out of her hands, his eyes furrowed.

A lot of the words were filled in already. Some remained empty, but for the most part, Akechi was correct. He folded up the newspaper again and handed it back to her. “That diploma’s coming in handy.”

For the first time in a few days, Akechi displayed something other than her muted and disparate emotion. She smiled at him, setting the newspaper aside. She took a hold of him by the hand, and steadily forced herself to get close. To his own surprise, Ren almost backed off, only to smile back at her, chuckling. “What?”

Without pause, she glanced up to him. There wasn’t even a hint of hesitation in her words - yet it remained very different to what she was feeling these past few days. “I want to kill Sae Niijima.”

He blinked. Slowly. A part of Ren’s heart skipped a beat when he heard her say it. It wasn’t even a joke - she was dead serious. Nothing within her eyes spoke of her usual teasing demeanor.

A bead of sweat dripped down from his eyebrow, and he wasn’t certain if it was out of his horror, or if it was from his exhaustion. “...Why?” Ren asked eventually.

Akechi, in response, only grinned. “I’ve been thinking about many factors in the rise of my father, and the potential…benefactors, so to speak.” She said, remaining focused on him. She rolled her index finger around his chest. “As a prosecutor, she remained a hypocrite, sending people to die while the very institutions she stood upon corrupted the ground she walked upon.”

No hint of remorse in her words. How long had she been planning this? How long was she even considering withholding this from him?

Her smile widened to a gross amount. “The law must understand that there is no recourse. How many people suffered because of her actions, or lack thereof…?”

Ren pursed his lips as he listened intently, watching her descend back - that unending madness, spiralling further and further. He would not have any of this. More than that, he gazed closely into her eyes, and dug deeper.

They revealed a different truth amidst her words. A hint of desperation, longing, and wistfulness. A quiet plea for help.

Akechi continued on, tugging at his hands. “Darling… please… wouldn’t you agree with me?”

In that moment, everything came to a standstill as Ren studied her features. He remained silent, feeling the warmth of her hands betray the coldness within. He forcibly tugged the palms out from underneath. This alone made Akechi furrow her brows in exchange.

Consider the circumstances. For the past few days, Akechi had been in a different, almost fugue-like state. Refusal to eat, refusal to care. The hatred within her words that night, and all of her actions from thereon became contradictory to every little aspect of what he knew of her.

Her vile words, practiced as they might be, couldn’t reach him the same way as it once did. Not after what happened between the two of them these past few months. She was not serious, and despite what Akechi proclaimed, if it were to be the case, she would’ve removed any hindrances to her plans as is without needing approval.

The harsh truth was, Ren could only see someone who wanted, more than anything, to hurt and hate themselves more than they could ever possibly desire to hurt and hate him.

He had to remain analytical, the exact thing Akechi couldn’t afford to be with him right about now. With a light brush of his hands against hers, thumb rubbing in between her knuckles in an attempt to soothe her. “You’re not killing Sae-san. If this is an attempt to provoke me, it’s not going to work.”

This made Akechi fall silent. He could’ve sworn he saw her lip quiver temporarily before it curled back into another devious smile. “We made a promise…!”

“That promise of killing together,” Ren interjected, “I’m well aware. But I’m not giving you the satisfaction.” He tugged her inwards, and a part of her body fell closely into him as he clasped his hands on her wrists. “I don’t want to see you fall down that path. Not like this.”

Forcibly, Akechi slipped her hands out and glowered at him. “Cut that shit out.” She spat back at him. “Who are you to decide what I can or cannot do?”

“Like I said. I see you for who you really are.” Ren replied. In retaliation, she began moving away from him, stepping backwards. He followed along, matching her beat for beat. “Akechi…stop this.”

“Then stop me yourself,” her response was curt. “Arrest me.”

While not a bad idea, and the very thing Ren should’ve done at the start, he refused. But to put on a display, he made his way over to the coat rack. He’d been prepared for this - pulling out a pair of handcuffs.

The slight clinking of the cuffs made its presence known to Akechi, a glint in her eyes found its way to Ren’s presence. With a forced bit of laughter, she grinned. “So it’s come to this…I knew it.”

“No,” Ren shot back. “And I’m going to prove to you why I didn’t.”

She didn’t fight back. At least initially. When Ren took a gentle hold of her hand, she pulled it out and almost delivered a fist straight to his face. This, too, was something he was prepared for. While her arm flew forwards, Ren dodged to the side and clamped down on one of her wrists. With a swift motion, exhausted as he might’ve been, Ren’s hands glided over to Akechi’s other wrist to complete the pair.

“You’re always thinking it has to be one way or another…and for a time I did too.” Restraining her, Ren went to face her temporarily, meeting her eye-to-eye. “Either I arrest you, or one of us dies. That’s how the story usually goes.”

“I truly should have killed you that day.” Akechi retorted, growling at him slightly before pulling back, lulled into a false sweetness. “I was, after all…nothing more than your rival. Aren’t I correct…?”

Throughout all of this, Ren never saw a hint of true bloodlust in those eyes he once considered that of a beast, a nocturnal predator hungry for blood. They often kept in the same shade of brown, of comfort and homeliness, even if it was distant, or dim. It only further reinforced the fact she was playing games with him, even now.

He smirked, putting his hand in the opposite coat pocket as his notebook was located in. Fetching out a key to the handcuffs, Ren moved along and uncuffed Akechi. Or at least, just one half of it. Swapping the key over to his free hand, he proceeded to slap his wrist with the cuff and fastened it securely.

The room fell quiet again as Akechi’s cruel smile dissipated, and her eyes flew back to meet him. Once more into the fray, Ren met her and got close. “I could’ve arrested you at any given time. I didn’t. And I don’t ever want to…”

With whatever space between them he had, Ren closed the gap on her. Both of their wrists were chained, and he made a conscious effort to close that, too, by squeezing her hand with his own, fingers interlocked between them. Simultaneously, he raised it for the both of them to witness. Ren couldn’t help but give a warm smile to her.

“You once told me,” he softly spoke to her, gradually leaning in close to her ears, “that you enjoyed our time together, back when we came home from shopping, and you looked happy to be with me. You keep checking up on me at work like you’re worried about something. Was that all a lie, too…?”

Leaning back, he saw a myriad of emotions flicker through her in a flash - only because she turned away, but Ren didn’t let her get even that. With the key, he uncuffed himself, and then Akechi second, letting the pair of handcuffs drop squarely on the floor between them. Immediately, he jumped in to turn her cheek back, caressing it at the same time.

“I know you’re in pain, for whatever reason that might be. Maybe it’s because of Shido.” He whispered to her. At the mention of her father, a part of herself flinched in his care, and she slightly shivered. He continued regardless, lifting her chin up. “But I’m not leaving you for that.”

Silence fell again. Ren brushed himself up against her. “You always find me with Makoto, too. If I have to keep reaffirming you, then…I’m staying with you. I will always, always…stay with you.”

A moment of softness was all he received. Akechi, quietly reciprocated his hand on her cheek, placing her palm against the length of his arm. Unfortunately, she forced it away, shoving him. “You…are a goddamn idiot.” She hissed out after some time, moving from Ren’s space. With a light scoff, she shook her head and began walking away. “You can stay, alright…stay the hell away from me…” 

He didn’t stop her, letting his hand fall graciously down. Instead, he only observed where she was going - upstairs. Handcuffs back into his possession, Ren stuffed it into his coat pocket once more alongside the key.

There was no telling what this would do to her, but it had to have meant something. A quiet chill ran down his spine, almost as if he was being stared again from behind. He shuffled around, only for it to disappear just as quickly. The door upstairs slammed shut not too long after.

And just like that, Akechi retreated into her bedroom for the night. The evening was his. Time spent with her was, at the very least, brief. It was better than nothing. He was sweating, and frankly, parts of his clothes were getting that icky feeling again.

Upon heading upstairs, Ren went into his bedroom and cleaned himself up. A brief shave, some minor patches for a light burning sensation on his legs, and laundry sent into the washer, coffee ran a little warm. Up at the rooftop, he enjoyed whatever he could of the rest of it as the cool night air tickled through his unkempt hair. Case files in mind, he peered out, observing the Tokyo Tower in the distance, and mentally skimmed through the notes on Eiko again.

Takeda Firm, Ikebukuro, rival gang warfare. Was it for turf, or for something more?

Ikebukuro…

Surprisingly clean of the corpses Akechi left behind and a known cold spot for his investigations. There had to have been more to it. Who exactly was the mastermind behind this? What’s their end goal, trying to unite the families together?

From the case files, he pulled out a map associated with all the potential locations near Takeda Firm and rolled down the list - collectible stores, sushi, a ramen shop, movie theatre, hotels, and the closed historical GiGO arcade.

Too many questions. Not enough answers. An infinite amount of variables.

And two days off ahead of him after tomorrow. After finishing his nightly coffee, Ren focused back on the crossword puzzle as he microwaved some instant ramen. Briefly, he glanced upstairs, tapping pen on paper.

Preponderance.

With his dinner finished and notes stowed away, he’d be happy to report in with his partner. A part of him didn’t really want to go to bed, he was still full of energy - and not because of the caffeine. But regardless, adulting required going to bed at a reasonable time.

When his head hit the pillow, cozied up underneath blankets, Ren still did not feel tired. He tossed and turned, far, far into the night. At some point in his attempted slumber, he heard water flowing for several minutes before receding. It wasn’t outside, rather…it must’ve been Akechi washing up, and it didn’t stop there.

Farther into the night as it began turning into the early morning hours, Ren heard a hint of footsteps quietly approaching his bedroom. The door leading in parted briefly, before coming back to its original position, and he felt a presence - her presence, specifically - hovering above him.

For a long while, she stood still. Occasionally, he heard her mumble something about this being stupid, about how he just cannot leave her alone. Eventually, the footsteps reached around to the other side of the frame. His eyes briefly cracked open, feeling a hint of weight to them. He didn’t address her, and now, Akechi was facing where his back was turned. A light shuffle was felt. She climbed into the other half of his bed, quietly slipping into his blankets as well.

As cautiously as Ren was able to, he turned his head around.

“...Damn you.” Akechi quietly cursed out to him. He froze as soon as he heard that. The gentle warmth of her body pressed up against his own back, as she scooted closer and closer. If he moved, if he even registered himself as awake…

…Let’s not think about that.

Between them now, he heard and felt her breathing, and parsed the fact she was shaking uncontrollably.

No matter how much he wanted to turn around, pull her in, and feel her anxiety wash away with his own comfort, he couldn’t do that to her. She’d likely push away - and permanently - if he did. This too was something he had to be patient for. And eventually, her caution slipped away as Ren no longer felt her body wobble against him. However brief this moment could be, he’d have to savor every bit of it.

Then, and only then, did he finally drift off.

March 18th, 20XX
Early Morning
Ren and Akechi’s Safehouse

Come the morning, a sudden jolt awakened Ren from his rest. His body felt uncomfortably sore, and for good reason - he normally didn’t have to sleep like a log that couldn’t move. It probably didn’t help that he jogged for 15 minutes last night, and his legs felt like they were burning. With a rough groan, he stretched his own body out and tossed over to the other side.

As he suspected, Akechi was not in his bed. There were traces of her being there however, from how his blankets were tossed instead of neatly folded around the mattress frame. That, and her faint scent of shampoo on the pillow casing.

If he focused more, he could hear a quiet sizzling of the kitchen downstairs. With a confident grin, Ren chuckled to himself and slowly hopped out of bed. A little bit of TLC - washing himself up, brushing his messy bed head, and patting his clothes down for any wrinkles - he was ready to meet up with her again.

Descending down, a small whiff of fish lingered in the air. He found Akechi, having taken her hoodie off with her hair in a small ponytail. Per her usual fashion senses, she wore her endless supply of compression shirts, with her sleeves rolled up. What separated it today was that she was wearing a charcoal black apron alongside it.

“Good morning,” Ren lightly greeted her. He slid his hand across the countertop, then around Akechi’s form, observing the pan. “Is this for me?”

She only briefly stole a glance at him. “I haven’t eaten. All of this is mine. Good morning to you, too…my dear.”

Her tone fell mostly flat, almost awkward, like her heart wasn’t fully in it yet. Regardless, Ren patted her shoulder and backed off to take a look at the fridge. “By all means, eat. I’ll just pack some of your protein with me. Maybe some snack nuts too…”

He closed the door, and found himself staring at a secondary bowl of food ready for him. It looked more like a risotto mixture of white rice and miso soup, uncomfortably wettened by a cut of seaweed, tofu, and a generous helping of fried smelt. His eyes shot over to Akechi, who remained stoic. “If you don’t eat what I’ve made I’m killing you before you leave the hallway.”

So she did make something for me.

Ren grinned, taking the bowl in hand. Probably not the most interesting mix of food he could receive, but it was efficient, if nothing else. Classic Akechi-type of meal. With chopsticks, he sampled a small amount of the rice.

Salty. Like, overly salty. But not flavorless. She was trying, and that mattered to him the most. Parts of the smelt he received had a burnt texture, and it was a little drier than normal. If she were certainly attempting to add seasoning to anything, this would be the most likely of results.

“It’s good.” Ren smiled, finishing his meal in record time. “I liked it.”

“Good…” Akechi replied, briefly smiling as she was passing over her portion of fish onto a plate. “Now get out of my sight and go to work. I have somewhere to be later.”

…

Ren and Makoto stood together, almost shoulder-to-shoulder, staring at the front of the closed GiGO arcade. Of all the places they could’ve scoped out, this one felt the most suspicious. It was supposed to be closed. So why, exactly, did he spot a bunch of tattooed men coming and going here in the early morning?

“You’re sure?” Makoto asked, gazing up at an empty advertisement board and the outline of “GiGO” at the top. “Why would they be here?”

Ren shrugged, tugging at his holster. “This was the last place I’d be checking. But my eyes didn’t play tricks, I know what I saw.”

She did the same, exhaling briefly before reaching for her gun and pulling it out. “If we’re wrong, it’s not like we’ll be penalized…”

With a nod, Ren pulled out his standard issue Nanbu revolver and entered first, taking aim. Inside, aisles upon aisles of empty machines, ranging from plushies, specialty made snacks, and gachapon collectibles awaited them. All of them were shut off, and Makoto pulled out an associated flashlight to help guide them in the dark.

Shining through, they cautiously walked along the endless maze of toys, passing by Buchimaru products, the latest trends in anime and television. A loud clang came from underneath as Ren kicked forward an empty can of Dr. Salt NEO. With a look of acknowledgement to his partner, they split up briefly.

Ren pulled out his own flashlight, holding it backwards whilst keeping his revolver steady on the back of his hand. “Wonder why they haven’t moved this out yet,” he said aloud, “this could go to the Akihabara branch.”

Makoto didn’t respond for a time, but her light on the other end signified to Ren she was fine. “We both know Futaba would kill for this, it’d be as empty if it were brought there!” She yelled back.

“Have you found anything yet?” Ren called shortly after. Just then, glass crinkled underneath his shoes, and he quickly shined the light down to meet a faint trail of dried blood. With his flashlight back up, the culprit of the glass came from a broken-in machine, devoid of toys. Instead, the shattered impact contained a multitude of stains. “Makoto?!” He yelled.

Moments later, she was running towards him. “Did you find something?” She asked. Ren only needed to beckon with his head for her to take a look at the glass, then the trail. “Oh.”

Caution might as well have been tossed aside to the wind. Makoto’s first instinct was to charge head-first alongside the trail, following it at a rapid pace with Ren following along. It led to behind a reinforced door downstairs, typically where broken machines or unused ones were held.

Utter darkness awaited them down to the basement steps, followed by a dim light. Once they found solid footing, Makoto kept her pistol close to her breast and sprinted. It didn’t take long for her to reach a dead-end, followed by a locked door.

By the time Ren approached, Makoto had broken the lock with her foot. She waited for him, holding the doorknob steady. Silently, they nodded to each other. In one swift motion, she twisted it, then kicked the door in with immense force.

Both of their guns entered the door first, followed by their flashlights, then themselves. The air inside was musky, stale, and somewhat rank. Light drips of water from the ceiling fell down to unmoved arcade machines as they traced the blood trail…

Up to the leg of an unconscious pair of women. One of them had dried blood caked on their visage, and the other merely had their eyes closed, features gaunt from a lack of light and suitable conditions.

Makoto lightly gasped, quickly holstering her pistol. “Eiko…”

Ren shined a light on the other woman. He, too, holstered his pistol and went to check if there was a source of light anywhere else. None were to be found. Immediately, Makoto pulled out her phone after checking Eiko’s pulse and began dialing 110. In response, Ren leaned in to check the other woman’s vital signs. Both of them, thankfully, were still breathing, albeit faintly.

As best as he could, he went to check to see if they had a wallet on them. Patting the woman’s pants, he managed to track it down in her front pockets. Pulling it out, there wasn’t much in there but a couple yen bills and an ID.

His eyes squinted against the dark as he shined a flashlight upon it. “Kayo…Murakami.”

…The reporter?

He blinked a few times as Makoto was put on a brief hold. “We got a reporter here, too.”

“What?” Makoto asked, shining her light on the unconscious Kayo, then down on one of the arcade machines closest to Ren. A camera was smashed to pieces.

Out in the distance, Ren heard something approaching. He raised his hand up before pulling his index finger onto his lips.

The sounds of footsteps were arriving. With another look of acknowledgement, Ren got up and began hiding behind the wall, using one of the machines for cover. As the footsteps got closer and closer, he could’ve gotten the jump on whoever it was.

Within a reasonable distance, Ren popped out of the shadows, pointing his flashlight and gun simultaneously at the figure who approached.

“Put your hands up! Police!” He said, blinding the person.

“Ow, holy shit! Hey!” A feminine voice responded back, both of her hands raised and eyes shut. “Officer, I didn’t expect you here!”

He lowered his flashlight. Before him stood a woman with a dark bowl cut and orange shades sitting firmly on her scalp. She wore a graphic tee on top of a white long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of washed out flared jeans, as well as black and white sneakers. Slung around her neck was a professional and expensive camera, and around her waist was a brightly pink fanny pack with a water bottle attached to her belt.

“...Who are you?” Ren asked, pointing his flashlight down.

The woman blinked several times, and Ren noticed she was unarmed. He holstered his own and leaned against the frame.

“I’m…a reporter. Looking for my partner. My name’s Ichiko Ohya...”

 After steadily recovering her senses, the woman backed off and huffed, crossing her arms. “And I don’t appreciate the fact I just got fucking flashbanged!”

Chapter Text

“The only true wisdom is in knowing that you know nothing.” - Socrates

March 18th, 20XX
Morning
Arcade GiGO

Uncovering the truth is often a prerogative overlapped by two occupations: Detective work and investigative journalism. Rarely should they intersect one another unless absolutely necessary. Even rarer should they have their paths align underneath the same cause, even if it emerged from a place of unlikely connective tissue.

Ren, gun still holstered, remained steady to block the door. He crossed his arms and stood up straight. “Ma’am, as much as I would like to apologize, I simply can’t let you in. This is an active police crime scene.”

“Well, detective,” Ohya shot back, rubbing her eyes, “I have reasonable suspicion to believe my partner in crime is here, so…lemme in.” Her glance, after recovering, shot over to the unconscious bodies. Even without knowing who it was under the veil of shadow, she took a step forward. “Kayo?”

He had to stop her. Ren gently took Ohya’s figure in his arms and held her back. “Ohya-san, I’m really sorry, but please…don’t make us arrest you for disobeying police-relevant orders.”

With another gaze behind him, Makoto brushed up against Ren and touched his shoulder, beckoning him to leave the reporter be. He gleamed back, only to see Makoto nodding towards him as she passed her phone from one ear to another. “Yes, it’s Niijima…I’m requesting a response team…”

With that, he couldn’t argue. Ren stepped aside, letting Ohya go  as he shined a light onto both unconscious women. Immediately, Ohya’s eyes widened at the sight. “Kayo!” She cried loudly, kneeling down. “Oh, shit…”

Brushing Kayo’s artificially blonde hair to the side, there was much more damage to her features than what Ren initially parsed, and he was certain those weren’t merely dark features, but bruises and tears. “Hey,” Ohya softly let out. “Wake up…” A low groan was her only response before she stood up. Subconsciously, Eiko groaned half-heartedly and reached out blindly into the dark.

“Help…” She dryly uttered, tugging along Ohya’s jeans. Her eyes briefly cracked open before shutting again. “...Help me…”

It was Ren’s turn to help stabilize this situation. “Miss Takao?” Ren softly responded back, brushing her messy hair away. “Stay awake for us, will you?”

Another groan. Shortly after, Makoto hung up the phone. “Alright, medical team’s coming soon…” She knelt down with Ren by her side, putting an arm on her friend. “Eiko, can you hear me? Can you stand?”

“...Who…?” Eiko said, seconds later.

There wasn’t much time to process everything that was going on all at once before Ohya stood still. “Guys…” She whispered worriedly. “Someone else is coming…!”

From the floor, Ren leaned far out. It was the same criminal he saw from earlier making their way down to them, and now at an accelerated pace. “Hey! Fuckers!” He shouted. “Nowhere to hide!”

He wouldn’t have time to pull out his gun to maintain space between the room and the criminal - and even then, it wouldn’t matter. That guy outside also had a gun, and they looked like they were ready to take aim at the next available head popping out.

Ohya ducked inside immediately, curling up as Ren stood up - only to be intercepted immediately by Makoto who beat him to the punch. Without warning, she sprinted straight outside, where a stray bullet fired off. In the heat of the moment, Ohya yelped as Ren flinched, shielding Eiko with his own body.

A heavy thud landed, followed by intense yelling and a metal clack onto the floor. “You would dare fire an unlicensed gun at an officer of the force?!” Makoto’s voice rang out, echoing across the hallway. There was no other response.

Ren untensed his shoulders and stepped back to an unconscious Eiko once again. He exhaled and wiped his clothes down, stepping out into the hallway as Ohya peeked from underneath. He made his way on over, only to find the criminal unconscious as well. Cuffs were already being wrapped around by the time Ren confiscated his gun away. “It’s safe,” he announced to Ohya.

She cautiously stepped out from the shadows and back into the hallway, just in time to see Makoto stand up with the perpetrator in her hands. “Who…led you two here, exactly?”

“Call it a whim.” Ren answered back. “Little did we know…”

Out from the darkness, Eiko emerged, heaving against the doorframe. In a panic, Makoto extended her hand out in exasperation. “Eiko-chan!”

In typical procedures Makoto would’ve handed the criminal over to Ren for safekeeping. This time however, she effectively lugged it over him, pushing their unconscious body onto him as she ran over to Eiko, steadying her friend.

“Ohya-san.” Ren called out, and her gaze flicked over to him. “If we each grab one person…”

He didn’t need to say anything more. Ohya immediately flew back inside the dark room and took her sweet time coming back out with Kayo in hand. Getting back up the stairs would’ve proved a monumental task with each and every individual having assisted guidance.

It was no easy task. Shuffling up the stairs with two and a half unconscious people proved to be difficult and a vigorous workout for both Ohya and Ren, but for Makoto to have the easiest of the three, she helped out as best as she could - Kayo after, then the unnamed criminal. As they got back up the stairs and onto the abandoned maze of arcade machines, the only thing to do now was wait.

The wait, as it turns out, didn't exactly last as long as the three of them believed. For once in Tokyo's time of need, services came as quickly as it needed to be. The medical team was already on it, placing all three on gurneys whilst both detectives and the sole reporter stood idly by, getting checked for any other potential injuries. For Makoto however…she refused to let go of Eiko.

She boarded the back of the ambulance, scrounging around her pant pocket, fetching out the car keys. Ren stood just outside, subconsciously opening his hands up for retrieval. “Ren-kun. Go take the reporter to the car and get her to the hospital with me.”

Ohya stepped into frame and stared up at her, pointing. “I should be going too! That’s my partner!”

In some ways this scene felt too familiar for Ren, now through the looking glass. It simply was Makoto’s way of thinking, keeping all close friends of hers within arm’s reach. If their positions were swapped, he’d be on the gurney instead of Eiko.

“Ohya-san, while I do understand your concerns, this very much is my responsibility.” Her attention shot back briefly to Kayo, who was being assessed the most. She turned back, jingling the keys down into Ren’s palm. “She’s unconscious. Even if you were nearby, would she even know?”

“Stand back,” the medical team member closest to them commanded.

Though Ohya wanted to protest more, there was no time. The ambulance doors shut thereafter, and slowly departed, leaving Ren alone with Ohya and a small swath of police officers sent to investigate this place. They managed to split up into small teams, and the rest were assigned to guard and ensure no other criminals were allowed in. Yellow cautious tapes were already being rolled out around the crime scene.

“Detective Amamiya,” one of them spoke freely, as they approached him. “We can take her to the precinct first for further questioning if you would like. You should really follow Detective Niijima if you want to give her company.”

Turning around, Ren took a quick glance over to the police officer. “What’s your name?”

“Taro Yamada, sir.” He saluted Ren. It wasn’t a name he was familiar with.

“Alright.” Ren nodded. “As grateful as I am, Officer Yamada, I must respectfully decline.” He grinned at him. “Our mutual acquaintance here needs a ride, and Detective Niijima would appreciate it if she and our mutual reporter in there weren’t split up. So, if you’ll excuse me.”

Walking back over to Ohya, he noticed her pacing around frantically back and forth. “What am I gonna do…?” She muttered to herself before shuffling it her hands back into her pockets. “Dammit.”

Such was the nature of being in the front lines. Ren promptly stood close to her, hiding her presence with his frame and took a gentle grip of her arm. “You alright?”

Ohya did not answer initially, being stuck in a minor stupor of her own. When Ren cleared his throat and shook her, only then did she address him. “Fine? Yeah, totally fine - my partner’s bleeding and unconscious and we don’t even know if she’s alive. Absolutely fine!” Knowing this, he halted in his tracks and hid her again.

“She’ll live. But if you want me to drive you, we’re gonna have to make a deal. You tell me why you’re here, and I’ll do the same. Alright?”

“...Alright.” Ohya commented, intrigued. They quietly approached the cruiser still parked out as Ren unlocked it, and both of them entered into their respective sides without a hitch. Out in the distance, he saw the officers speaking to themselves and dispersing back to duty, although some lingered for way too long for his tastes.

Between the rocky start, the already uncomfortable silence, and the fact he was being asked to interrogate a journalist who just happened to be looking for her partner, this wasn’t exactly the most glamorous part of the job. If anything, he could at least afford to ease up on her. It didn’t exactly mean he’d let her off the hook, however. Not only did he not start the cruiser quickly, he observed the officers for a little while.

If I can’t trust these people who swore to protect and serve, who exactly can I trust…?

I can’t trust the system either, so…

He had a change of mind, seeing Ohya fidget in her seat. He started up the car after giving her a brief examination. “Let’s start with a question.” Ren announced, igniting the car and rolling it out of its parking spot. “What were you and Miss Murakami investigating?”

As the car came to a slight stop at a red light, Ohya promptly took her phone out of her pocket and placed it on the center console. In a few swift motions, she already began recording their conversation. “For records?”

“For the sake of both of our lives, and our partners, keep this anonymous.” Ren reaffirmed.

After a few moments, Ohya nodded and clicked her tongue. “In our line of work, I wouldn’t dare risk anybody’s lives. Just for formalities…” She extended her hand out to him, giving Ren a pleasant smile while they drove. “Ichiko Ohya, investigative journalist for the Maiasa Newspaper!”

Reluctantly - largely due to the presence of a moving car, Ren took some time to shake her hand. When he did, he returned an equally warm smile back to her. “Detective Ren Amamiya, Special Investigations.”

Ohya nodded and hummed. “Big shot then. How come I’ve never seen you on live television?” She teased, and Ren chuckled.

“I’m not one for the cameras, unfortunately.” Ren responded.

“Ooh,” with another hum, Ohya grinned. “My own personal source from the other end! This would call for a celebration if I wasn’t also being interrogated,” she joked again, giggling to herself. “Alright alright, let’s answer your question for real: I’ve been investigating a money trail of sorts. My other source has been providing me with info that, well…”

A pause, before she resumed after some thoughts. “Let me rephrase and ask you a question, just so we don’t waste each other’s time, alright? What exactly do you know so far, and how does it connect with your girl and my partner?”

Now, it was Ren’s turn to spill the beans. If he was to get anywhere closer to the bottom of this, he’d need outside help - even if it was a complete stranger. Not exactly as trustworthy as his own members of the force, but that wasn’t exactly a huge bar to cross either. 

He wet his lips, taking some time to not divulge everything completely. “Our missing person was a business accountant for a firm. From our informant’s cases, we are fully aware this is a front for operations with the yakuza.”

“Right.” Ohya crossed her leg and leaned in, resting on the front dashboard whilst facing Ren as he drove. “That pretty much lines up with what Kayo-chan and I were given…”

“This money trail,” Ren continued, “what have you gathered?”

“Well…” Ohya mused, rubbing her chin. “If I got a sneaking suspicion it’s got somethin’ to do with the yakuza…I might need a drink for that.” She shook her head after a few seconds. “Never mind that, let’s just say…we’ve been at this for weeks. Months, even.”

“Go on.” Ren said.

After getting lost in her thoughts, she hummed and eventually continued. “From my source, it’s been a mystery to all the other minor yakuza families, and it’s an open secret that they’ve been gathering together for - and this is just a rumor - a temporary unification process.”

That much he already knew, and it wasn’t exactly pleasant to be finding this out either. At least they were on the same page?

Ohya continued on regardless. “The closer we get to the truth, the more dead-ends we find, like we’re getting cut off deliberately, or the place we’re looking into mysteriously closes up shop.”

Highly suspicious. He pressed his finger up to his chin, taking up one hand on the wheel on an easy road.

“You never told me how you found out about the arcade either.”

“Like I said,” Ohya chuckled, “Sources. Just like informants, I guess? My lips might loosen if…say…you take me out for a few drinks after we get Kayo-chan safe and sound.”

This time, Ren sighed and tightened his grip on the wheel. “I’d rather not.”

“Oh c’mon, Lala-chan would be grateful I got a drinking buddy!” Ohya protested, raising her hands up. “Crossroads is dead when I’m hanging around there!”

At the mention of Crossroads, Ren paused and gave her a quick glance over again. There was no way he’d never met this woman in his life - granted, he and Makoto only ever went late into the night, and not very frequently either. Regardless, this wasn’t the time nor the place to be thinking about it.

“Can we focus on the investigation? What else do you want for your article?”

Ohya calmed down and hummed, thinking about it. “Since you’re Special Investigations…what can you tell me about The Black Mask? What’s the deal with them? They appear, kill criminals, and leave with no elaboration. What gives?”

How I wish I never asked. Ren mentally rolled his own eyes at the barrage of questions.

“There is someone I know who’s working on it. I can arrange a meeting later for you.” Ren begrudgingly said.

He was thinking of Chie. Frankly, she’d probably kick his ass if she were to meet up with Ohya, but between her and Akihiko, she was the more reasonable of the bunch.

There were simply too many questions left unanswered, and given there were more pressing matters, such as Eiko and Kayo’s life hanging in the balance, that would have to come for later.

The ride to the hospital didn’t prove to be much else out of Ohya, unfortunate as it may be. She was very insistent on them hanging out for an exchange of information. Maybe she was just a drunkard and not much else - but it couldn’t be denied she was inextricably linked to his and Makoto’s investigation.

Or maybe, she was more of a reliable source of information that he’d been led to believe at the start. A deal, of course, was a deal. It was an idea, and one he’d take her up on, and only on his terms. The ambulance took every injured individual in on their respective gurneys, and additional police were asked to keep an eye on the criminal.

Both Eiko and Kayo were taken away, whilst the two detectives and reporter were kept behind in the waiting room. Whilst waiting, Ren texted Chie of a potential news source he’d found, and to meet them at Crossroads later tonight. She agreed. 

Of the three, Makoto felt the worst for wear despite being the one who engaged that criminal. True to his own suspicions, the police who were tailing him from earlier were also on the same floor.

It was him who knelt down first towards Makoto, who had finally eased back up from all of her tension and unwinded on the waiting room chairs. “Hey.” He addressed his partner. “You doing alright?”

“I’m worried about her, Ren-kun.” Makoto whispered to him, only passing a brief gaze over. “When I was talking to her inside, she told me she was starved and dehydrated for almost two weeks. If we hadn’t found her…”

He shook his head and squeezed Makoto’s hand, giving her a soft smile. “Don’t think about that. She’ll live.”

A quiet befell the waiting room afterwards, with Makoto ending up staring at Ohya. Ren soon followed, peering behind himself before checking back with his partner. “I wasn’t really able to gather much from our chat inside the car. And someone…is gonna have to file this report back at the station.”

Softly groaning from disappointment, Makoto shot him a quick chuckle and a grin before it faded back. “I’m not leaving Eiko here alone. You’ll have to report back.”

He shot one more glance over to Ohya, who was obviously peeved at the both of them staring at her incessantly. “If you got something to say, then say it!” She shouted.

Whatever the case may be for everyone involved, Ren had his orders, and so did Makoto. With a light tap of her thigh to drop off her cruiser keys, Ren got up and rolled his neck around. “Find out what you know with her. I’ll write the report and…just go home after.”

“Good intuition, Ren.” Makoto smiled back as best as she could. “And…thank you.”

It would’ve been much easier if he had taken the car, but the extra workout would’ve been necessary to build his strength back up. With the train station in his sights, he took a seat down amidst the afternoon commuters heading to work. On the flip side - he was going to go home early after filing his report. This alone was warranted enough considering the two victims needed time to recover. And for another, it was more time with Akechi.

Maybe this time, things would be looking up.

March 18th, 20XX
Evening
Ren and Akechi’s Safehouse

The report came pretty easy as an update. Finding two victims, letting the rest of the team know that they were sent to the hospital, Makoto was there, same old. The only thing he left out of it, since it was more or less going to be Makoto’s responsibility, was Ichiko Ohya’s involvement. It wasn’t much, but it was a possible avenue for questioning later.

By the time Ren returned home, the sun was still out against the warming weather, and per the usual, he took off his coat and had his bag in the other hand. Once he made his way back into the sunken living room, the first thing he noticed was that nothing was playing, and Akechi was resting on the couch again, splayed out. On the coffee table, however, were his case files and an opened bottle of whiskey, with one shot poured and unattended.

When he peered over to her sleeping relatively soundly, the first thing Ren noticed differently about her was, to his own surprise, that she did something new with her hair. No longer did it have the black peekaboos underneath, all of it was the consistency of her neck length brown hair instead, undyed and messily clinging onto parts of her features.

The next wasn’t as positive, with Ren brushing up her bangs away from her face. Dark bags were layered around her eyes, telling him that she still wasn’t sleeping well. Even in spite of her eating and resting up as needed, she still had a sickly glow to her that wasn’t normal - if he could even consider her otherwise pale complexion to be normal.

With a soft moan, Akechi’s eyes slowly opened up when her hair was disturbed. All that met her was Ren’s genuine smile staring back at her. “Hey, honey.” He swapped his hand over from her forehead to her cheek instead, opting to caress it. “How’d you sleep…?”

At the very least, she was becoming more like herself in these past few days. Not everything had to be negative. A small part of Akechi nestled herself into Ren’s palm as she moaned again, louder. “...Tired.” She half-heartedly whispered to him. “You’re home early again…?”

Rising from her slumber on the couch, Akechi stretched and yawned, one lid closed as the other trailed Ren, readjusting himself before hopping over to her. “I love your hair. It’s really soft.”

She hummed, quietly twirling it around with her index finger. “I didn’t do it for you…but I suppose,” she giggled softly, “I can take a compliment or two.”

He pointed over to the coffee table. “Were you reading my files?”

“And what if I was?” Akechi asked, reaching for the glass of whiskey, drinking its contents. “I suppose you think I lack capabilities to help. A shame, really.”

He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “Curious. What’s your take?”

“Why, I’m so glad you asked, dear…” She smirked, scooting over to him. The sweetness of the alcohol lingered on her breath once she came close. “If a young and bright woman disappears, much like Miss Takao here, then I suspect foul play.” Her hand lifted her own chin. “The yakuza, perhaps.”

Impressed, he gave her a reaffirming nod, then adjusted his glasses back up. “Not bad.”

Akechi scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Child’s play. Anybody could figure that out…” She put the glass down. Ren, not wanting to miss a step with her, lifted up the bottle and poured more for her to consume, though she didn’t take it, letting it idle there in Ren’s hands. Reluctantly, he set it down alongside the manila folder. “But I do suspect more is at stake than a simple kidnapping…and it may have ties to our mutual politician.”

“...Shido.” He uttered, and it was enough for Akechi’s demeanor to shift. He didn’t want it to happen, it came naturally into conversation. “What about him?”

She didn’t respond for a little while, only eyeing the whiskey glass again. There was a small glint of rage within her that he managed to catch, a brief flicker of bloodlust in that shade of red in her soul, before it quickly turned back into that same brown he was used to. “My… father had business dealings that I became intimately aware of. There was a face that kept popping up on my own investigations.”

A small sense of unease washed over Ren, simultaneously alongside a sense of morbid curiosity. His hand slid over her lap, and he reached closer to her exposed arms. “You don’t have to say it.”

“You’re right, I don’t.” Akechi replied, standing up whilst grabbing his arm. “It’s better if I show you.”

Having complied, Ren followed along with her back upstairs, and surprisingly, back into her own bedroom. Parts of it were messy, and not inherently by her own fault. Her own blankets were rolled off the mattress and lazily hung down on the flooring, several articles of her own clothes weren’t set aside in the hamper, and the one thing he often tended to miss, upon entering the room, was a big board of information well hidden behind a wall he never turned to.

In fact, Ren never truly admired how vast this bedroom was in floor space and intricacy, hidden behind other eye-catching items. It was funny, thinking back on this being the third time entering into a place of sanctity, only to realize it was also simultaneously the first time he ever admired something. His attention returned over to Akechi, who went over to a small corner of the room he never glanced at.

On that corner, the map of Tokyo with pins of where her corpses were laid out. Now, having seen it with his own eyes, the vague memory of his own map at the precinct reflected back inversely, almost to an eerie effect. But there was more to the map that Ren didn’t parse at first - pictures of future targets.

At the very bottom was Sae Niijima’s photo, displaced and laying on the table amidst scattered papers, a stack of cassette tapes, and the serrated katana with her Sig Sauer pistol, disassembled with one bullet left. Lowered at the bottom corner was Shido, with an X that was painted in blood. He wasn’t sure if it was Shido’s, or her own, and he dared not to figure out who it might’ve been. 

The rest, sprawled across the swath of the map, were still on the board. Several individuals, all generally unknown to him. They all looked like criminals, or people within positions of power. Politicians, potential yakuza members, or even the lowlifes Akechi had been targeting for some time.

At the midst of the board was a mystery and an empty photo. Next to it, lined with red string, was a photo of an intimidating man with slicked back brown hair, a well-chiseled jaw, and a look of pure condescension all in a tailor-made suit. From his collar, he could easily see photos of a tattoo around the nape of their neck. 

Without hesitation, Akechi pointed out the very photo that caught his attention. “This man.”

“Who is he?” Ren tilted his head. Even he didn’t know who it was.

“I have long pondered who it may be. I am aware he’s been part of the underworld for a considerable amount of time. To that end, however…” She trailed off, lowering her head over to the photo of Sae. “I am uncertain.” She whispered to him after some time.

Out of nowhere, Akechi turned around and pursed her lips again, not wanting to look at Ren. She was close to him, almost within breathing space, as he listened to her steadily breathing against his skin. “...About last night…” She said, her tone low and sultry. “I…miscalculated.” Her head lowered, slanted towards somewhere else away from him.

At this point it was Ren’s weak spot, hearing her be intimately close to him. Every single time, his hand would always be defaulting to brushing over her own, and this time wasn’t any different. He gave Akechi a gentle squeeze, and smiled at her again. “I know.”

With his other free hand, it did most of the heavy lifting by rolling softly across her cheek again, lifting up her chin so she could face him. He didn’t think about what he was doing, he just did it out of pure instinct. With another soft smile across his lips, Ren addressed her. “I’ve been feeling a little lost, too. Even if it were a slight to Makoto, I forgive you.”

There was a small hint of reciprocation over his statement. Both of them gave tender glances at each other, the softness of Akechi’s own hand, hesitantly squeezing back as their hands interlocked once again, breath slowing down. This almost felt like the first time they might’ve met each other halfway, back at the subway station.

“You…” Akechi muttered as she bit her lower lip.

The night he deliberately killed a man to save her, knowing full well of the consequences. It was that reluctant, almost fearful tenderness within her eyes that he came to see again. There was always something hypnotic about her he couldn’t ever quite shake, and the way she commanded his attention. 

She had it in full, as he listened to every small intention. A small hint of her nervously swallowing, followed by Ren intently listening to her heart race, started rhythmically urging him further. He was ready, but was she? The look she was giving him almost said yes.

Gradually, he crept up, closer and closer, as did she. All he wanted was the moment. Seize it, quicker and quicker. He would’ve gotten more familiar with her lips, to let her feel something - anything - other than the so-called hatred she felt for him. All he had to do was lean in closer, and she would’ve had to as well, if he hadn’t felt a soft pressure held up against his chest, the only kiss he’d be receiving. 

Akechi’s arm blocked any further proceedings out of Ren, and he backed off. Her small giggle turned into laughter over time once she pulled out of his grasp, letting go of his hand.

“Oh, my dear husband,” Akechi cooed, half covering her lips. At the very least, he made her laugh at his own expense. Her eyes opened up, half-lidded. There she was again, the Akechi he’d long met and became the most familiar with. “Don’t get any wrong ideas. This is the only apology you’ll receive from me. Just because I cooked for you this morning and I understand my tactical error, does not give you permission for anything more.”

Rather than feel disappointed, a quiet relief eased Ren of his burden. There was a truth buried even underneath her lies - this was the closest he’d ever gotten back to her again for something more between the two of them. Should she deny it, then try, try again. Just not right now.

If this were to be a long game, he’d have to keep playing. “Very well. For my wife, I’ll let her dictate the pace.” He smirked.

“Good boy.” Akechi giggled again. “Now, I believe you are free, and will be for the next two nights...I want to go somewhere.”

“Anywhere.” Ren replied confidently.

Her gaze shifted over back to their mystery man, and Akechi pulled his photo off the pin, letting Ren take a look at a much better angle. “We have a new target to track. We're finding out about them tonight.”

Chapter Text

“It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?’ Actually, who are you not to be?” - Marianne Williamson

A face with no name. A possible culprit with no lead. A simple photograph of a yakuza member.

Whoever this man was, they were clearly elusive in a way that Ren himself could not know who it was. Facial recognition programs failed him where it mattered, and for the rest of the case, his only two leads were incapacitated and under the care of his partner at the hospital.

But it was the only lead he had. In the early morning of the next day, even if it was his day off, Ren went to the hospital on his own accord. The air around the hospital ran cold, and he wasn’t inherently sure of who to trust amongst the police. Were they here to help, or perhaps were they here to finish the job?

When he arrived, Makoto was resting still, having sat peacefully with her jacket around herself with the collar-end of it covering half her face. Most of the hospital room had that morning glow to it, lights slipping through shuttered windows and the dust settling.

Beside her was Eiko, who was strapped to the IVs nearby and monitored for fluid intake and in a hospital gown. She was already looking much healthier than yesterday, yet her features remained starkly gaunt against the light. 

Across from her lay Kayo Murakami, who had delicately wrapped bandages around her head and partially one of her eyes. She was not resting, and instead quietly peered at Ren, who stood at the door frame as two guards stepped aside. As cautious as he could, Ren maneuvered past Makoto in an effort not to wake her, and only focused on the one person awake right now.

Kayo parted her blonde hair out of the way and gave him a gentle smile. “Hello young man…did Ohya-chan ask you to find me…?” Kayo asked softly, scooting her body around to meet Ren. “I swear, that girl sometimes…”

Over to the side, Ren pulled up a chair quietly. The last bit of positioning unfortunately made the legs scrape the floor, and luckily it made no noise. He sat down and observed Kayo’s injuries, taking note of her arm being in a cast and bandaged. “I feel like I’ve been saying this a lot of times recently but…are you alright?”

She simply nodded slowly. “You should really see the other guy. The worst I can expect is a torn ligament.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Ren chuckled before focusing back on the mission. He clasped his hands together and folded one foot over the other. “Do you remember much?”

Kayo could only purse her lips and hum slightly. “Scouring the streets with Ohya-chan, getting a lead on our money trail…” She sighed and looked up at the sterile ceiling. “We met at Shinjuku and then…poof.”

She gestured over to her own face. “Bag over my head, head through glass, and I’m told almost two weeks later.”

It was agitating, to say the least. All of what she said, everything felt too familiar. He gave her a solemn nod and turned around temporarily. Both Eiko and Makoto were still asleep. With that in mind, the only thing left he could possibly do was show his hand.

Was it risky? Yes. More than a thousand times, yes. He wasn’t supposed to even be having this information with him, and to use a photograph without evidence to back up anything was grounds for suspicion. But when was Ren ever not on shaky ground to begin with? Rummaging around his coat, Ren handed the photograph over to Kayo. 

“I was hoping,” Ren began, “if you could tell me if you ever saw this man before.”

She, with her one good hand, took it and squinted at the image for some time. Her eyebrows furrowed and a range of expressions ran across her visage - curiosity, disappointment, and amusement. She gave the photo back to him after that. “Interesting.”

He blinked, perhaps once or twice before leaning in closer to her, head tilted. “Do you know him?”

She must’ve chortled and turned her other cheek. “A journalist never gives out her sources. If I were you, I would highly suggest checking up on my partner.”

Her very drunk partner. Of course, why didn’t I think of that?

Nevertheless, Ren slowly stood up out of the chair and set it back towards where he had found it. “She asked me for a drink. I refused.”

“Don’t think of it as drinking, sweetie…think of it as information gathering.” Kayo corrected him as she teased him. “Buy a round on her for me.”

Ren turned back around. “Anything else?”

Kayo already laid back down on her pillow as best as she could, one content sigh let out, turning the other cheek with her one visible eye closed. “She knows a lot more. Trust me, the things I’m credited for belong mostly to her…”

A weak hand raised itself up to wave Ren off. “I’m tired. I didn’t expect anybody to visit, so…good day…”

Do all roads lead back to Ohya? It can’t be this difficult, right?

He shot a quick glance over to Makoto again, resting peacefully alongside Eiko. Ren clicked his tongue and stood in the room by himself.

If he had a chance, he’d try a different avenue with Eiko, but he’d rather not exacerbate her current presence with a bombardment of questions. With the photograph back in his possession, Ren quietly departed the room and out of the hospital.

He only made it to the elevator before the doors were beginning to shutter. At the last possible moment, a pair of hands interrupted the full closure and the doors reopened again. Ren, having had his eyes low to the floor and contemplating his next steps, didn’t even parse who it was. When he saw that they were standing outside awaiting him, only then did he flick his glance back up.

A small group of police officers stared back at him.

“Detective Amamiya.” One of the police officers bowed as they addressed Ren with a smile, just about as fake as their enthusiasm for being here.

He politely bowed and stood back up. “Can I help you all?”

“Matter of fact, yeah. The SIU Director wants a few words with you…”

This was not good.

March 24th, 20XX
Morning
Ren and Akechi’s Safehouse

Find the centerline. Breathe in, breathe out.

Ever since the hospital visit, Ren had been kicked off the case. ‘Optics’, so to speak, were not looking good in preparation for the timing of The Black Mask’s public announcement update. It was one thing that he had a run in with a serial killer and lived, sustaining heavy injuries but not outright dying. As far as the precinct was aware, and given how many people were discussing it, his survival was a point of contention.

Extend arm out from centerline, palms up, elbows sunken down. 

Pressure simply got too high for the director to risk getting grilled upon for. Lest they also bring up the fact he and Makoto were found with less than unbiased judgement when handling Eiko Takao’s investigation. If Ren wasn’t going to help out and be the best detective he could possibly be, what was he here for?

Initial objections from his own team and Naoto, it was all overridden by the director’s final say. The majority, in this case, did not win the vote. Maruki’s confidence be damned, too - clearing his health and accepting that Ren was fit for duty did not equate to the optics fallout the public would be asking about.

Once again, the fall guy for these types of occasions landed its hand on Ren. To preserve Makoto’s reputation instead of dragging it down, he was given the option: Walk away from the case, let the proverbial heat die down, and have Makoto face a light reprimanding sentence, or simply put…get two worthy detectives kicked off the case of a lifetime for insubordination, and possibly sent back to a desk job if the circumstances were dire enough.

Sticky hands, ride the arm forward and up, twist elbow, circle the motion of wrist and hand. Reverse.

The choice wasn’t inherently a choice either, and this was more of an extreme case. Quite frankly, it didn’t sit well with him, since this was the first time he’d ever been investigated for misconduct that wasn’t even that big of a deal to begin with. There were plenty of times that worse offenses came to pass in the past. So why this, exactly…?

Then again, this wasn’t the same police force he came to know and signed up for. Something reeked of foul play, or targeted focus, but he had no way of proving that.

Find the centerline. Find…the centerline. Press against the dummy with both palms. Reverse elbow, thread the loop. Ball up a fist, and strike.

His fist met with the hardness of the wooden dummy’s foundation, lightly thudding against the force of his blow.

Strike hard. Small droplets of sweat flew right off of his brow as he did it again.

Strike fast. A red-hot blaze rose out of him, palpable anger encapsulating his emotions.

Strike again. His fist became notably sore and painful against the harsh, repeated strikes.

Ren caught himself, easing up on his breathing by heaving, one hand on the arms of the dummy for support. He’d been at this for over half an hour trying to remember what it was like trying to practice martial arts against a wooden dummy. Training at the academy for judo long eroded his technique, and coming back…was not easy.

The past few days weren’t any easier. A part of him could’ve already been out there, without bureaucracy or red tape to stop him from finding his own justice for Eiko and Kayo, and track down more leads for the case even if he was kicked off. But he could not focus.

He only wore his gym sweats, leaving behind his shirt so as to not impede his arms. Sweat dripped down from his pores as Ren held his sore knuckles. They were, thankfully, not swollen. Ren wiped the sweat out from under his brow and ruffled hair, wiping the excess down on his pants, retreating out of the dummy’s reach and leaning his head back.

Willpower.

He didn’t forget Akechi’s teachings back on that reinforced dummy. This was no different in terms of training. Just in this instance, it was for his body and mind more than an extension of it. Yet, having most of his early morning taken up trying to focus back into a state of calm and compassion against his anger wasn’t proving to be anything more than a waste.

With that in mind, Ren took a nearby water bottle, chugging its contents and put a simple black t-shirt back on. The house, silent as it was, was only because Akechi had cooped herself up elsewhere, scouring her own notes in the server room upstairs. The least he could do was check up on her.

With a new freedom came new sensibilities for Ren. Instead of following up with Ohya, who he was still waiting for Chie to report back on, or chasing new leads that Miss Murakami would’ve given him on - Shinjuku, possibly more Golden Gai bar crawling, and a lot of the same mundane work he was used to.

For the past two years of routine he suddenly didn’t know what to do with this much free time. Crossword puzzles came easily enough, studying new recipes for cooking was a pastime he’d love to try, and in particular, looking after Akechi became a new favorite of his. A week for someone with this much free time felt like all the time in the world.

It also meant, if he needed to get back into investigations, no bureaucracy. No red tape. Nobody to actively follow along with what he needed to do.

After entering the kitchen and waiting for the syphon coffee machine to start its processes, Ren prepped some soybean miso soup and an easy meal for today - tamagoyaki.

Whilst the mixture of dashi, spinach, and other assorted veggies were cooking slowly on the rectangular pan, for the final roll up, he went upstairs and saw the server room door left ajar, mechanical noises and occasional beeps emerging out from it. There wasn’t any typing he could hear either. Upon entering, a wave of heat brushed past his face.

Akechi was somewhat slumped over at her desk, a mess of papers scattered around the floor. The screen showed a photo of Shido alongside several political figures at a gathering he’d never seen before. Ren furrowed his eyebrows, cautiously approaching her. True to how she was dressed previously, it was the same hoodie she kept wearing, and has been wearing for at least the previous three days.

Her disheveled hair covered most of her features, with the rest of it being kept from his purview through her baggy sleeves. Closing in on Akechi, he crouched down and tried to look at her.

She was shivering uncomfortably, even in this hotter than normal room, and her sleeve was damp with sweat, and her breath ran ragged.

Ren gently grazed her exposed hand. “Akechi?” He softly whispered. He initially expected her to respond, or at the very least acknowledge him. None of that happened.

She violently jerked upwards with such rapid motion, Ren flinched back. She was growling angrily, looking for a fight with her eyes wide open, yet bloodshot. By the time she realized where she was, Akechi calmed her breathing and steadily closed her eyes, hard. She groaned loudly, stretching wide before her body slackened back to a sense of ease. “You...”

“Are you alright…?” Ren asked, finally settling back in with his own calm. He pursed his lips and crouched down to her level, brushing her unkempt bangs away from her eyes. Akechi, unexpectedly, brushed up against his palm in order to nestle into it further.

She sighed and gradually cracked her eyes open again to meet Ren’s gaze. “I’m fine.”

In truth, Ren could see past that as well. Worry couldn’t be the word that would begin to describe how he felt about her actual deterioration as the weeks passed. His other free hand grazed her frame, sliding alongside her legs as Akechi allowed him that much. While he was crouched, he rounded up the paper scattered on the floor, then neatly organized it back on her desk.

From his pockets, his phone rang out, disrupting their small peace. Immediately, Akechi’s eyes darted around the room and her frame retreated into the seat. Without missing a beat, he fetched the phone out from his pockets. It was Chie.

He swiped right, and pressed the receiver up into his ear. “Hello?”

“REN!” She shouted at the top of her lungs - enough to make Ren pull his phone out of his ear. “YOU DAMN BASTARD!”

He nervously chuckled and put the phone back so he could at least speak to her, but she wasn’t finished. “Who the hell is this woman?! She’s an even worse drunk than Yuikiko-chan on a bad day!”

“Will you --” Ren tried to begin, only to get interrupted. He noted her words were slightly slurred, as well.

“No, scratch that shit, she IS basically Yukiko-chan! Bro, she’s been asking the weirdest questions and we haven’t gotten anywhere in over FOUR hours!”

“Chie --”

“Where did you find this journalist, huh?!” Chie shouted, her rage well apparent and unyielding. “Hey hey hey! I’m not drinking anymore with you! Screw off!”

Shuffling unfolded, and suddenly he wasn’t speaking to Chie anymore. “Heyyy…who’s this…?” The voice of Ohya rang out on the other end before she giggled uncontrollably. “Detective Amamiya, you say…? Why hello, cutie…”

“Hello, Ohya-san.” Ren responded. “Can you please put Detective Satonaka back on the line?”

“Yeahhh, Chie-chan’s a scary little gal you brought me…” Ohya replied, giggling again. “Somethin’ about her funny little words and her crying about her friend.”

Ren swallowed nervously and glanced back down to Akechi, who was also furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. Her arms crossed, wondering when he’d be done with the call.

More sounds of shuffling, almost violently. “You better make this up to me at some point dude, or I’m kicking your ass next time you get reinstated at the department!”

Ren chuckled and nodded along. “I will, alright? I’ll handle her. And I’m sorry.”

“Yeah you bet your ass you’re sorry!” Chie shot back. Even more sounds of a small scuffle unfolded on the receiver end. “Stop goddamn reachi --”

The phone hung up afterwards, and Ren deeply sighed, rolling his eyes before pocketing his phone back, and his attention returned over to Akechi, who still remained sweating and exhausted, reclined back in her seat.

“Japan’s finest.” Akechi remarked bluntly, uncrossing her arms. With Ren’s hands this time, he took Akechi’s own and squeezed both of them. Her palms were sweaty, and it wasn’t much of a surprise as to why. He didn’t let it deter him regardless. “I made you something to eat. Get your mind off of things.”

Akechi hesitated, looking away and back on the main monitor in front of her. “I’m not that hungry.” She said to him, sinking further into her chair. “In fact, we need to…” She trailed off, refusing to respond to Ren afterwards.

All that looked back was an image of her dead father, and the small stack of paper Ren rearranged for her. He wouldn’t let her go, forcing her to look back at him. “What we need, is for you to take a break.” He smiled affirmingly back at Akechi. “Come on.”

Ren stood up, and gradually, so did she, with a deep exhale escaping her lips. Though the dread subsided, the sensation didn’t stop rolling around in his mind about her condition. Descending down the stairs, he propped her up on the seat and slid her portion of coffee over.

Pan in one hand and plate on the other, Ren transferred the fully concocted tamagoyaki, patting its fluffy, green and eggy mixed surface on the spatula. He retrieved a knife from the wooden holder, lightly running water over it before wiping it with a towel. With clean efficiency, he sliced even, bite-sized portions for Akechi to eat. Lastly came the chopsticks, which he slid across to her alongside the plate.

Before she took hold of the chopsticks, her eyes remained firmly on his hand, though her head perked up at the sight. Shortly afterwards, her eyes flicked up to meet him. “Why must you hurt yourself?” She asked, before taking a small sip of her coffee - and only a small one.

She almost recoiled at its heat, setting the mug back down while embarrassingly, Ren covered his knuckles. “It’s nothing that won’t heal. I definitely need to get back into it.”

Still, Akechi didn’t pick up her chopsticks and eat. She clasped her hands and pursed her lips instead. “A training partner would be more adequate.”

A part of Ren nudged at him. A training partner, sure. He’d definitely need one in the effort to spar properly and to at least have something other than a stationary dummy. But Akechi? She would eat him alive given the opportunity. The way she looked at his knuckles, and how he could feel her cold piercing gaze even behind him could only mean one thing.

“After you eat, maybe.” Ren mused, wiping his hands clean after a decent wash in the sink, and he saw her flash a grin over to him.

“That can wait,” Akechi replied, standing back up with a reinvigorated burst of energy. “How can I resist…?”

At the same time, this only confirmed his suspicions. Hiding her pain was something she’d been trying very hard to get past him with, several times. If it was a fight she wanted, then the only thing he could do was honor her request. It was, after all, the only way she’d get her mind off of things for the time being. Right now, food and gentleness were only partially needed in comparison to her wanton desires.

Yet it begged the question out of Ren as he pondered.

Is this just a fight, or…something more?

He pursed his lips and stared at her. “You should rest. I’m serious.”

“When I’m dead.” Akechi fired back. “You’ve piqued my interest, my dear Renren…call it focusing on something other than work.” She offered her hand out to him. “How about it?”

Nevertheless, Ren scoffed and rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck. Softly, his hand grazed over hers before firmly grasping it. “Fine by me.”

Her breakfast would have to wait. After entering back into the gym, he slipped off his t-shirt and tossed his phone over to a safe space. Akechi, in tow, followed him inside, rolling up her hoodie sleeves instead. He got on a safety mat, taking his glasses off and then shuffling it away towards his phone.

When he turned over to face Akechi, it was rather apparent she was staring at him differently, biting her lower lip and giggling softly. “How about we make this interesting…? A selfish request, of course.”

“How so?” Ren asked, unsure if she was aware her clothes would make it a disadvantage. “You wanted to fight. Did you not want me to hold back?”

She only ignored him. “Points-based. Best of five.” She waved her dominant arm around over to him. “And I don’t use this.” Akechi said, crossing that arm with the other in order to stretch.

“...And the baggy clothes?” Ren tilted his head.

She scoffed and smirked still. “My, must you mark every advantage you stand to gain? Don’t hold back on me simply because I’m giving you an inch.”

If it’s her, then…sure. Why not? 

Ren agreed to the terms. He politely placed a fist against the palm of his hand and bowed courteously towards her. Akechi wouldn’t do the same, only opting instead to begin circling around him then and there. He followed suit, making sure their space was on equal terms.

At some point, she landed exactly back to where their original starting positions were. With a soft hum, Akechi raised her fists up in a fashion similar to what Ren recalled her doing back at the subway station. The stance was all too familiar - rugged, rowdy, and very much not anything martial arts based in comparison to his. The only thing missing was the inherent bloodlust within her. Or, perhaps, the fact he was so used to it he didn’t even register it anymore.

In response, he took position as well, opening his palms up and extending them out to her. At the last moment, Akechi’s left fist retreated back into her frame. True to her words, she only intended to use her right hand.

This was no fight he intended to win outright, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try either.

Not that she wasn’t capable of handling his strength, but Ren opted for this to be clean, and not leaving blood on the mat - that’d be difficult to clean off. His plan was to use his palms, rather than his punches. Akechi wouldn’t be playing on those rules. She wouldn’t be giving him the satisfaction of getting off that easily, even if he’d never been in a real fight. Thus, Ren turned his focus towards her. Fingers extended, closed, back of palm facing her. Find Akechi’s centerline --

He didn’t even have time to react before she already closed in on him, her fist making its way over to him in one fluid motion. Her figure glided fast - just enough for him to see her, but not enough to respond. Footwork on her end was light, precise, and hard to catch by the untrained eye. Her knuckles were mere inches away from his face before she pulled back on him. “One-zero.” Akechi announced, humming as she took her position back.

Should’ve known…alright. No time for games.

Ren readjusted his posture again. This time, he was ready. Just as before, Akechi’s footwork already approached within his personal space, ever light in step, and he immediately blocked with improper precision with his elbow to block it, using the momentum to push her back at the same time. He followed up with a straight palm from his left, then his right.

Already, he was getting into the heat of the moment, feeling his body gradually warm up to the sense of combat between the two of them. It didn’t take long for Akechi to lose her ground and a soft slap landed on her chest, his palm making soft contact with it. “One-one.” Ren declared, smiling. He receded his hands back, attempting to realign his stance, but Akechi had no moments of hesitation - her leg swung around and halted itself, giving him a light tap over the shin.

“Two-one,” Akechi declared just as swiftly. She flicked her head around to get the bangs out of her face. “Never let your guard down.”

An actual catch - no such thing as fair and square.

They returned back to the center of the mat. Once again, Akechi was the first to make a move, this time in a series of consecutive blows - right jabs in different angles, followed by a lower kick to try and catch him off balance.

If he were actually proficient in Wing Chun outside of using it to clear his mind he would’ve been able to defend and attack in every millisecond Akechi was letting her guard down. Ren was no such master, but that didn’t account for him at least readjusting the fundamentals through muscle memory. Every time a punch missed him, be it through dodges or soft blocks meeting hard blows, it was a step closer to tiring her out for an opportunity.

Air repeatedly wooshed into his ears with every missed blow, just narrowly dodging or deflecting her strikes. She was getting impatient, he could feel it - her fists were starting to get a lot more difficult to deal with every wing block attempted.

Her movements became more ferocious over time, unrelenting. Its original agility became subdued for heavier steps, yet somehow, Ren’s eyes found it more difficult to keep a steady pace with. He too was getting weary of blocking her offense.

In a surprise moment, Ren blocked a surprise knee attack from Akechi, the brunt of his elbow meeting with her kneecap. It was enough pressure between them that they temporarily broke their closeness, backing off.

He was certain she was slowing down so as to not break him entirely, just enough for him to catch her own version of a straight punch. When he successfully soft-blocked and deflected her arm, she didn’t immediately retract it back. A cold wind blew past Ren’s shoulders at the sheer force that punch would’ve dealt. 

In that moment, they stood still - Ren holding onto her arm, palm riding her exposed skin, and her fist remained clenched. The surface of her pores were already getting heated up, more than Ren anticipated when he unintentionally felt them on his fingertips.

She giggled, smiling warmly towards him. “...Fascinating.”

Not wanting to get distracted, Ren chuckled along and successfully landed a soft blow against her arm, enough for her to retract it and return it back to her own frame. “Two-two.”

He was anticipating her movements this time, blocking her ambush strike when he would’ve least expected it. Her leg extended out, and he matched it by using his foot to block the strike, then sent Akechi’s foot back down. Using this, Ren continued his assault on her, once again feeling a different sense of tension as she relentlessly gave him attacks to block again and again.

Sweat emerged from his pace rushing up against hers, and even he could sense Akechi was starting to get winded, despite her calm, albeit rough demeanor against his technical maneuverings. The air felt sticky against his skin, air-drying the sweat on his body whilst a musty scent began making its presence known to the both of them.

He managed to find an opening in her defenses, and struck her softly then and there, just in her lower abdomen. “Two-three now.” Ren grinned. “Is that all you’ve got?”

Recomposing herself, Akechi suddenly started doing something different. Once Ren re-established his stance, she threw an immediate left hook at him, connecting briefly against his shoulder. It was enough that Ren, having been caught off-guard at the fact Akechi wasn’t holding back anymore, or giving him advantages, was sent a few feet backwards at it.

Stumbling backwards and then catching himself, Ren squinted at her. “Really?”

“I decide the rules, dear. Adapt, or perish.” Akechi said, in an almost teasing tone towards him. She didn’t let him have anything anymore, charging him swiftly. Her movement suddenly became faster, no longer holding back on her part, swinging her left fist at him. He caught it, twisting it around so he had control over it, and was ready for her to throw her right one also. She did.

Both of her arms were locked between his as Ren stepped forward heavily, crossing both of her arms together. They were perhaps now, a little too close to one another, breathing a little too heavily into each other. The softness of her breath tickled against his bare skin, yet its warmth reminded him - not a real fight. Just sparring.

At any point, Akechi could’ve broken free of his grip against her arms. Easy enough to break out if Ren didn’t block her feet, or if she wanted to headbutt him. She chose none of that, only opting to remain intimately close to him with her arms in his possession.

They stopped their fight for a lot longer than what was necessary, making eye contact with each other, almost in a stare-down to see who would back out first. His grin turned into a smirk nevertheless, letting his tight grasp on her arms go, pushing her back. Any further delays would mean this fight would never end. He pointed at Akechi. “I’ll have to add Judo to the mix then.”

Akechi rolled one of her wrists around with her other hand, readjusting her own stance afterwards. “Must I repeat myself? Don’t hold back on my account,” she reaffirmed to him. He’d have to combine Wing Chun and Judo if he had any hopes of winning this, or having any favorable outcome. There was still one card left on the table for him to take advantage of.

Akechi charged him, attempting to punch with her left only to feint and strike with her right. Ren, having anticipated the possibility of a feint, grabbed her arm, and with the sudden momentum shift, redirected her around to the opposite wall. Their positions swapped around, where he once stood, she did, and vice versa.

Without another momentary break, Akechi rolled her hoodie sleeves off of her and popped her head down the hoodie, and her hands pulled that article of clothing loose, and then some. Her compression shirt underneath briefly loosened, revealing a part of her navel area underneath. He only saw a brief outline of her abs, enough for him to temporarily lose focus.

It wasn’t the sweat or the pure sensation of their sparring that made him feel distracted again. His eyes merely caught a glimpse of Akechi underneath. If he looked away that would’ve meant a severe disadvantage at the start, one she’d gladly exploit. He felt flushed, but only because that likely wasn’t meant to be seen by him.

Or so he thought.

“Just what exactly are you looking at, darling…?” Akechi teased, slowly, almost sensually pulling her compression shirt back down. “Are you enjoying yourself?” With another flash of a smirk, she mocked him, beckoning him to approach this time instead of her making the first move. “By all means, come closer…”

Ren shook his head out of his own thoughts, wetting his lips.

She planned that…? I can’t get distracted. Not here, not now.

Under normal circumstances, his two separate styles demanded his opponent strike first. Wing Chun was only a close range martial art, and Judo required him to get close regardless. This too put him on unequal footing - not that he wasn’t going to back down or show his hand for it.

Three-three. Two more points could go in any direction - his or hers. If he focused too much on defense, he’d have no time for anything. If he was too offensive, she’d overwhelm him easily, or at least find an opening to counter-punish.

He liked those odds. Ren stepped forward in swift motions, almost emulating what Akechi was doing earlier, and began a straight blast barrage against Akechi’s arms, the sequence of chain punches forcing her on the defense. Trying to block rapid jabs and then counterattacking was not easy, and Ren knew that.

Unfortunately for him, so did Akechi. In the midst of his punches, she successfully managed to dodge two punches at the same time while Ren was hyperfocused on maintaining balance. It left him open, and she had full reign on doing anything to counter - tackle, and she can manage to land a blow while she’s on top of him. Throw out a punch, and Ren would barely have time to react accordingly, making him go on the defense again.

Perhaps out of old instinct, Ren felt everything slow down temporarily, enough for him to see Akechi attempt to jab him in an almost sucker punch-type of way, angled close to his cheek if not his temples outright. His body moved faster than his mind, as he found his hands attached to her bare and sweaty arm.

His feet firmly planted themselves against the mat, and suddenly the momentum shift became his again. Her arm in his hands, Ren used this differently, not to throw Akechi off and force a reposition, but to throw her down. Kuzushi, as Judo terminology would put it. Meant to disrupt and destabilize an opponent where he needed them to be.

With Akechi’s balance displaced and Ren’s remaining firm, standing above her, he used the full force of his body to effectively toss her flat against her back on the gym mat, a loud, almost wet thud occurring. What he didn’t account for was his exhaustion at such a dire tactic. He tumbled down along with her, mounting himself on top of her, both of his legs straddled up against her own physique.

He breathed heavily, feeling drops of sweat drip down his face, almost down onto Akechi’s own features as she pressed both of her palms up against his chest. She, too, breathed heavily, as Ren could feel her body slowly inhale and exhale air. “This…was not expected.” Akechi softly remarked, almost in a whisper.

What was more unexpected than this judo throw on the ground, however, was the fact that Ren could see something Akechi didn’t, and not something she’d be acknowledging to him at this very moment. A fairly vivid image of her burning red cheeks, enough that Ren was taken aback by it. Enough that, he effectively unclenched his fists and got off of her, one leg scooting over so Akechi wasn’t fully trapped underneath him.

He looked away at her, scratching his hair. “Let’s…stop there.” He said, nervously chuckling to himself.

That didn’t happen - that sure didn’t happen! I was not on top of her.

Akechi rose back up from her state of rest, huffing in between their brief moment of silence. Once again, she brushed her messy hair away and giggled. “I suppose any further, and we’d go beyond the point of no return, wouldn’t we…?”

He nodded, resting both of his hands on his thighs. Both of them were a little too sweaty, and parts of Akechi’s compression shirt looked damp to the touch. Still, there was some part of him that felt like she could keep going out of necessity. Out in the corner of his eye, after his refusal to look at her properly, he suddenly felt the soft breath of her send a chill up his spine.

She whispered in his ear, lightly grazing his shoulder, rolling her fingers down against his arm. “In all honesty, I would love to see how far we could go together…”

She backed off, as she always does, only letting him feel the missing presence of her warm fingertips leave him alongside her soft, sultry giggle. Akechi stood up. “You’ve worked me up. I can afford to eat now.”

A hand shot into his view, and only then did he address her fully once more. He took it, and although he’d be lying if he said he was expecting her to throw him in return, she didn’t. This match was over.

Neither she nor him truly won. Ren hoisted himself up with Akechi being a counterbalance. With a deep sigh, she remained smiling back at him. “I’m not satisfied quite yet, and that is solely your fault. If only this side of you emerged with a blade in your hand.”

“I would be dead if you had that,” Ren said aptly. “I don’t even think you hold back with a weapon in your hands.”

She didn’t listen to him either way. Akechi made her way over to where Ren’s t-shirt was laying, and casually tossed it to him. “Get dressed. We’ve got breakfast to worry about.”

Her body hovered around the door frame, and she turned back towards him. “All that bravado, and it turns out you were giving yourself another advantage in play…” 

His thoughts ran rampant at what she meant. Inevitably though, he found himself thinking back to her navel, and Ren felt a small heat rush to his face again as he slid his shirt back on. In hindsight, she was right. He didn’t need to take his shirt off - but he usually did for training sessions. 

Was she…?

No…couldn’t be.

But she knows...right?

Ren sighed at all the possibilities and glanced at her final frame slip out of the doorway, and back into the kitchen. Didn’t even take her hoodie with her. He quietly followed, tugging once again at the hems of his sweatpants.

Go all the way. What did you mean?

Now was not the time to be thinking of such things. He was exhausted, and also hungry again. At the very least they had some easy instant ramen to eat, and he was feeling like this could qualify a rest day for him going forward. Tomorrow for sure, he’ll follow up on Chie’s investigations into Ohya and see what they could uncover. By himself, if he had to.

But for now, he’d call it a day. Entering into the kitchen, he quietly saw Akechi pick up her chopsticks, already stuffing herself with his tamagoyaki, and taking generous sips of coffee in between. Her eyes glossed over towards him as he stood on the doorway out, quietly tugging her own hem of the compression shirt again. Akechi swallowed, and licked her lips at him. “Next time…”

“Next time,” Ren repeated, humoring her temporarily. He entered the kitchen, looking away at her. Even with this gesture, she giggled back at him. 

The next time would be a rematch they’d never forget, and on different terms.

Chapter Text

“If they hold to their principles, and they make the world better, without a doubt…that is justice.”

Be prepared for any left-field questions. Don’t let her get the upper hand. Drink only if necessary. Your lips might get loose, but so will hers.

Ren pondered his choices for his upcoming impromptu interview with Ohya later today. Even if he didn’t know it yet, it was always best to never underestimate anybody even if they don’t look like much. Overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer, and one thing almost two years of detective work at the very least prepped him for.

No red tape. No bureaucracy. Even if this meant very little accountability, he wouldn’t be bending the rules if nobody knew he was there. Chie would’ve been too drunk herself to remember what happened aside from the fact she talked with Ohya, and it did not end well.

With his light jacket on, Ren shuffled his phone back into his pants pocket, adjusting parts of his shirt collar, ruffled his hair to be just a little straighter, and came downstairs to dimmed ambient lighting. That photo of the mystery man he’d been going after was pocketed in his inner jacket, next to his notebook if need be. His body was sore from the day prior. The high cost of being sedentary for two months was, of course, muscle aches.

He saw Akechi also preparing to go somewhere, tying the laces of a separate pair of sports shoes together. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and as per her usual fashions, it was always the same thing - baggy attire, black, and this time, sweatpants. The only difference, as Ren saw, was that she had a bag ready to go.

The TV was playing the news, and he managed to catch wind of it.

“...woman. This has come with express approval from Tokyo police that The Black Mask was previously mistaken to be a man, but no other further details have been given without concrete evidence. Onto belated news from the other side of politics, we’ve now confirmed that Masayoshi Shido has reportedly died by suicide following the release of…”

With Ren’s presence within her own, Akechi gleamed back up to him. “Why hello there,” she addressed, finishing the final loop as she turned the TV volume down. “I’m heading out today. Preferably, I want to visit Protein Lovers again.”

His attention still remained on the television once more as Shido’s face flashed onto the screen. The news ticker reported something akin to a scandal, but the details were to be released within the evening, several hours away. Ren placed his hands in his pockets and glanced back at Akechi. “Will I see you tonight?”

She sighed, wetting her lips before standing up from the couch. “Are you so eager to see me? Then…perhaps.” She smirked, softly giggling to herself. “Should that drunkard prove to be useless, we could always find other means of information…”

Killing. Always with the last resort first.

Nevertheless, Ren gave a warm smile. Before long, Akechi pulled out one of her surgical masks from her hoodie pockets, and began hooking it over one of her ears. Ren stopped her briefly, as he caressed her cheek. She left it hanging, taking a firm grip over his hand.

It didn’t really take a genius for her to be aware of his worries. She pushed his hand away and covered her bottom half of her face. “...Worried, are you?”

“Always.” Ren reaffirmed, nodding to her. With her hand still on him, it glided over to his own ears, and delicately, his frames were lifted off of the bridge of his nose, glasses now adorning Akechi’s face instead, as she slid it on.

“You have nothing to worry about.” She whispered to him, lightly tapping his cheek twice in return.

He’d be going to visit Ohya without glasses at this point. Still, with recent news, even with reassurances she’d be safe - or more people would die, either or - it didn’t help ease his mind any.

With the remote in her hand, Akechi shut the television off and set it aside on one of the seats. She grabbed her bag, and lingered around the elevator hallway until Ren could get his shoes on. When he did, only then did they both depart down to the ground floor, and part on their own ways.

March 25th, 20XX
Early Evening
Crossroads Bar

The train ride for Shinjuku wasn’t as exciting as his typical commute would normally be, especially if he was early as he was. Ren quietly approached the bar, and gently moved inside as the door swung open to the sounds of quiet piano music playing, only for that to be disrupted shortly thereafter.

“...chan! C’mon, I’m feelin’ reaaaally good about her recovery!”

An indistinct reply unfolded, and then the figure of Lala faded into the back rooms whilst Ren appeared. At the front bar, sitting on a silver stool, was Ohya, heavily hunched over her own glass of alcohol.

Any time he’d be here with Makoto, this place would be clean. With Ohya in the mix, this place reeked more of booze than normal. Come to think of it, this was a miracle Lala could clean up this mess by the time two detectives would spend their hour here.

He was fairly certain Ohya wouldn’t even realize he was inside with her, and he’d be right. As he approached the dive bar and took his seat temporarily, hovering over the journalist before him, her eyes were half-lidded and her response times were sluggish as is.

“Kayo Murakami sends her regards.” Ren announced, giving himself a smile of confidence as he slid his arm over the bar. This alerted Ohya to his presence behind her as she yelped, and immediately twisted her body to face him.

“Oh, it’s you!” Ohya spoke, her words slurred slightly, and she giggled perhaps a little too hard for her own good. “What’s up? How’s my partner doing?”

Her focus glanced over to the rest of Crossroads. “Where’s your partner?”

He adjusted his posture and clasped his hands together. “Recovering. I went alone, and I wanted to see you.”

There was something between a chortle and a snort from Ohya once he said those words, and she took a hearty sip of her drink, pouring herself another glass. “Careful with those words, or you might be takin’ me home with ya.” She teased, sticking her tongue out.

Ren pretended not to hear it and maintained his smile, and thus his composure. Suddenly, Ohya stood up and began diving her hand into the back of the contents of the bar. She mindlessly shuffled around, whistling. Aptly, she managed to pull out another glass and a bottle of green liquor. “Lala-chan, I’m taking the Midori! Put it on my tab!”

A tall bottle stood between them as Ren observed the contents. The label looked holographic, but at the distance he was at, he couldn’t tell straight away. Midori, or melon-based liqueur, was not meant to be drunk straight in a shooter fashion. Over ice, maybe. But for all intents and purposes, it was a sickeningly sweet alcoholic drink and typically used in cocktails.

At least, that was what little he knew of it. He’d only ever seen a similar bottle get poured over cocktails other people would order as he quietly observed.

Still, a sweet drink was meant to get him to lower his guard, and Ohya was offering. She popped the bottle, and immediately began pouring it in his glass. She did not, however, pass it to him. Instead, she stood up, perhaps a little frantically, and gestured for Ren to follow her into one of the booths.

Curtains pulled. Complete privacy was theirs once he got inside with her, and two glasses were before them. She ran out to grab her own bottle and the melon liquor before coming right back inside to him waiting.

“Alright…” Ohya mused to herself, getting comfy in her seat, then leaning inwards. Smoothly, the glass slid over to Ren, and he reluctantly picked it up, green liquid sloshing around. Even the scent of it, leaving him with an impression of sugar and honeydew, wasn’t the most appealing.

In some ways he wished this was Akechi’s endless whiskey instead, but he’d have to make do and pretend. Without much of a second thought, he took a good, long sip out of it. Contrary to belief, if somebody were a sweet-tooth this would be fitting. For Ren however, this was overtly too sweet for him to enjoy thoroughly. A tart sweetness was the only aftertaste in his mouth.

Why this was beyond anything else. A scare tactic, perhaps? Not that he couldn’t handle harder stuff. Or maybe, Ohya was simply too greedy. She drank her own amber-colored liquid, downing it immediately.

Her demeanor changed, shuffling between something of a common drunkard to someone who was sobering themselves up. With a quiet sniffle, Ohya gave a satisfied exhale and chuckled. “My partner’s choice of drink was, in fact, a Midori. It’s been a recurring joke between us that if anybody asks for Kayo-chan’s regards, they’re served that.” Her voice was clear, and that slur was no longer there. She cleared her throat and lapped her tongue up and down. “So, you took up my offer. We’re talkin’ my language now. So, what can I do for you, Detective Amamiya?”

Admittedly that was a good set-up, or so Ren thought. He set his glass down and away from himself, no longer wishing to indulge the idea. “Was the thing with Detective Satonaka a front, too?”

She nodded and chuckled again, raising her glass. “At first I didn’t think she was serious, but hey…she was paying. I’m sure that…Yuki-chan or whoever she was talking about would appreciate having such a nice friend.” Ohya took another sip, then poured more alcohol in her glass.

“Aside from what was released today, there isn’t much to go off of. Surprise surprise, the serial killer’s a woman. Also big shocker, they’ve got an accomplice.” She said bluntly, pointing a relatively accusatory finger at Ren in question. “So begs the question…why come back for seconds?”

Thus they came full circle once again, just like the car ride before. At the very least, a sedated and drunk Ohya felt more in control than the usual, unhinged, sober self. He did not respond at first, and she only pushed further. “So picture this: the office is abuzz! It’s got somethin’ to do with her and the supposed accomplice, motives, objectives, I got all that from Satonaka-chan. What do you, Amamiya, want?”

Ren sighed and let the moment be still. What exactly could he tell Ohya that wouldn’t compromise himself, or Akechi?

It was then that Ohya scoffed and took another sip of her drink. “Forget it. I’d like to think she’s bored half to death if she’s only going for small-time criminals.”

“She isn’t,” Ren blurted out. “At least, not when I was thinking about her motives, too.”

This should get her attention.

And it did. It piqued Ohya’s interest - enough to make her almost do a spit take. If it weren’t for the fact her alcohol was harsh on her own throat, Ohya wouldn’t be choking up. She beat her own chest after excessively coughing. “You can’t just say that and not elaborate!”

“Detective’s obsession,” Ren continued on, willingly grabbing Ohya’s bottle this time. “I checked back on a trail I noticed. Connected a map.”

Clear yellow, half empty, it was a Suntory Toki whiskey bottle. Without thinking too much on it, he mixed a bit of it in with his Midori and set it back to her side. He took a fine sip out of it - sweeter than normal, but with a kick and even more delectable fruity flavors mixed in, namely green grapes or even grapefruit alongside that distinct muskmelon flavor profile.

After drinking, he set the glass back down and choked back the increased concentration of alcohol.

“So who’s her actual target?” Ohya questioned, unamused Ren stole her drink. “And where did you even find a connection that made sense?”

If I told her that I’d be self-reporting.

Instead, Ren shrugged. “I placed criminals we detained with missing persons reports, and the locations of where her corpses were left behind. It all pointed near the Imperial Palace.”

More specifically, The Diet Building. But I can’t say that either.

From where he was sitting, he saw Ohya nervously laughing it off. “Pshhh, you just happen to come back to ask the one person - me - who’s been assigned primarily to political articles, and spill this information like it’s nothing?”

She raised her glass up again and had an excess chuckle uttered before drinking. “If I were assigned to entertainment, that'd be rich!”

“Again,” Ren corrected, raising his hand up. “Obsession. You never know how wrong we are when searching for what we think is the truth…” He sighed and flicked his eyes up to the dim chandelier above them. “So about that money trail we’re after…”

Ohya sighed and set aside her glass. She wet her lips and cleared her throat. “Frankly, my source says the reunification’s going whether or not Japan’s ready for it.”

“Out of personal curiosity, can I ask you for something else?” Ren interjected. A thought passed him, connecting two links between Ohya and politics.

But he could not bring up Shido. It’d be too suspicious. He thought about someone else he saw instead from Takemura’s files. In response, she raised an eyebrow and side-eyed Ren temporarily. “...Sure?” Ohya asked, almost hesitant.

Ren pursed his lips and triple-checked to ensure this wasn’t going to leak out. He scooted a little closer to Ohya, raising his hand up to cover his mouth over her ear, and whispered. “What can you tell me about Jyun Owada?”

“That guy…” Ohya rolled her eyes and scoffed. “I don’t get him sometimes. A few years ago he was for certain Toshiro Kasukabe was going to be his primary backer for the next Prime Minister, and then out of nowhere he swaps affiliations and kicks back with Masayoshi Shido. Then comes a rumor that he killed a woman who happened to be connected with the police?”

Once again, she poured out the last bit of alcohol on her end and knocked it back handily. “Speaking of, Shido’s committed suicide, or so the news say! Funny how that turned out…fucker got what he deserved.”

She squinted at her glass before shooting a concerned look over to Ren. “...and y’know what? I heard Shido got in bed with some powerful people to keep his position. My source brought him up, too, but…” Her index and thumb started resting on her chin, pondering.

“I think he didn’t kill himself, either.” Ren said flatly. “He looked well during his final days.”

“Why the sudden interest?” Ohya asked immediately. “Never mind. I brought his name up when you asked about Owada.”

Realistically, this wasn’t getting any closer to the truth of the matter. But there definitely confirmed a suspicion of his that Owada was not a bystander in this as he appeared to be, especially if he was seen in private alongside Shido. The sudden party shift was also a major tell for him - he got bought off.

“Let’s get back to the trail. I think I’ve got some new info my partner and I dug up.” Ren said. From his jacket pocket, he pulled out the photo, and gave it a solemn stare.

Pursing his lips again, he swallowed slowly and flipped it over for Ohya to see. “We have reason to believe he may be tied to the yakuza and might be the same person we’re after.”

In the moment Ohya scanned the photo, her face grew pale, and a bead of sweat dripped down her brow. The room grew into an unsettling chill as the jazz music looped back, and she then pursed her lips as well. “I…” She softly uttered to herself. “Shit…I didn’t think I’d ever get to see him.”

So she knows him…?

Ren shuffled the photo back into his jacket pocket. Out from her pocket instead, she pulled something else out, akin to a black colored invitation card. “Got a notebook and pen?”

As it just so happened, he did. Ren shuffled into his jacket pocket again and hurriedly gave it to Ohya. “What’s your plan?” He asked, tilting his head.

She didn’t pay much attention, only grabbing the items out of Ren’s hands. Her hands felt shaky, and her eyes were darting back and forth as she scribbled something on the notebook. “You promise me something - keep him and his son safe. Source protection is my utmost concern for someone like him.”

…Him?

Confused, Ren scooted over to her, gritting his teeth at how badly the booze stank out of her. How he never came to notice it earlier was beyond him. Before he knew it, the pen and paper were slid across the table, with the black card sitting atop neatly. “Show that card to the man, he’ll know what it means as a sign of trust.”

Ren pocketed the card and pen, then glanced over the notebook scribbles briefly before his eyes shot back up to her. “Just like that?” He asked.

“Just like that.” Ohya repeated, nodding her head. “He doesn’t trust cops or detectives, but neither do I because they love schmoozing bullshit to me. The fact you showed me a photo of him,” she scoffed, downing the last bit of her alcohol and crunching on the ice, “means you understand the risk.”

Afterwards, Ohya rapidly stood up - far too fast for someone who was supposed to be drunk, and exited out of the booth with the curtains flapping out from her figure. “Lala-chan! I gotta use the bathroom, my tab ain’t done yet!”

And just like that, business was usual again for her, leaving Ren alone by himself in the booth. He swallowed and ran his eyes back down to the notebook. As horribly scribbled as it was, parts of it were legible for him to at least comprehend.

Shibuya. Central Street. Behind the underground bar, Club Thor, and near the dead end alleyway with bikes. Look for an airsoft shop by the name of ‘Untouchable’. Only one name was listed at the very bottom of the notebook.

Munehisa Iwai.

March 25th, 20XX
Evening
Untouchable

The sun was setting soon. Ren already boarded the train back to Shibuya, taking great care not to expose anything else between himself and what Ohya spoke of. Aside from the fact he’d been to Central Street plenty of times, he never took the backstreets of it. In fact, he had no reason to.

But now, detective work was calling him to go there for information. Past the busy bodies of Shibuya going to and fro, he ended up on the other side, idling around as he carefully surveyed his surroundings. Tall skyscrapers made his trek daunting, and more than anything there were several underground bars near Central Street. It could be anywhere.

At least, that’s what he thought initially. There was a large enough opening for him that he noticed a bike rack amidst the gray walls and the graffiti meant to spice up the coloring of the zone. As he stood, facing the alleyway looking down the alleyway, he felt as if his own body were being pulled farther away from reality. Had he been here before, or perhaps, was he not meant to be here at all?

His eyes slowly scanned back over to the busy street of Shibuya outside, and the swaths of people avoiding this alleyway were apparent. Students, tourists, and general civilians. Nobody who had no reason to go here would ever want to be here to begin with. His attention focused back to what was ahead, an unusual chill blowing past him. Trash piled up, and the locations down the alleyway weren’t open yet.

All for one, with a green awning and a display meant to attract military-adjacent enthusiasts. Though brief, Ren parsed the sign. ‘Untouchable’.

With a deep and slow exhale, Ren closed his eyes, wet his lips, and re-opened them once he composed himself at the front of the door, its reinforced heaviness budging open, allowing him entrance.

Inside, the showroom was dark. Even with circulation, the stale air inside reeked of acrid smoke and gunpowder, alongside hints of metallic aftertaste creeping up on his tongue. Fluorescent lights shined brightly, but its levels were offputting to the eyes initially. Once Ren blinked a few times, they adjusted well enough to reveal a military clothes rack and displays of model airsoft guns. Adorned on the walls were several Marine Corps flags, blue in color. Not that Ren was familiar with any of this.

As he took one step in, a dark shade of red appeared on his side, and Ren flinched temporarily. As his eyes looked at the source, he only came to realize it was a mannequin wearing an Avon gas mask and holding an old service rifle.

Once more, he surveyed his environment, stumbling across several very questionable items within the premises. Grenade launchers, kukri machetes, military-grade ration supplements, all custom made or appearing so realistic it could’ve been mistaken for the real thing. At the far end of his right-side were a pair of legs wearing black military boots and tight-fit jeans lounging.

Ren approached the counter, noting airsoft-legal ammunition underneath for display alongside rubbing alcohol, high-grade adhesives for gun maintenance, various tools for attaching modifications, and even a reinforced military helmet sat idly by. “Hello.” Ren quietly addressed.

Without looking him in the eye, a voice behind the counter softly rang out to him. “Whaddya buyin’? Or, perhaps, lookin’ for recommendations?” The voice was gruff. Relatively unrefined, fairly gravelly in nature.

His attire was that of a long gray raincoat and a black turtleneck sweater inside. Adorning his scalp was a gray pinstriped military cap with a pair of bright yellow ear muff protectors. Ren did not see his eyes, only denoting his stubble and a lollipop in his mouth.

“Are you, by any chance…Munehisa Iwai?” Ren asked politely, putting his hands in his pockets once more.

The man remained silent, slowly flipping through a Guns & Ammo magazine for his own perusal. “Depends on who’s askin’. You a cop?”

Although technically yes, Ren almost nodded. But, since he wasn’t also technically on the force anymore, he instead shook his head. “I was sent here.”

The man glanced back up, gray colored eyes staring back at Ren, cold and unfazed, almost a little scary. More than anything, it painted him as surly. He only stared longingly before scoffing softly. “Bullshit. Nobody comes here askin’ for me and they aren’t an enthusiast or a cop. Between you and me? You look like a damned casual.”

The magazine flopped heavily onto the counter as he unfolded his legs and sat back in a proper position. “So what’s it gonna be, kid?”

So much for lying. Ren sighed, pursing his lips and nodded again. “Alright. Detective Ren Amamiya. If you’re acting like this, then you must be Iwai. I was --”

“Save it.” He shot back bitterly, remaining seated. “Cops aren’t welcome. This is a legitimate establishment, I got my papers, and without a search warrant, get the hell outta here.”

“I was sent here by Ichiko Ohya.” Ren retorted, ignoring Iwai’s words. He stood firm against his wishes, and this only made Iwai furrow his eyebrows.

“S’that right?” He asked, crossing his arms. He scoffed again and rolled his eyes. “Never shoulda trusted that journalist and her sweet-talkin’ partner…”

Out from his pocket, Ren pulled out the black card he was given and put it on the counter. “She said you might know something about this. If I can get a name, or more information…”

The man before him did not care to answer back. His stare shifted down to the card, picking it up. Iwai rolled the lollipop to the other side of his mouth, sighing. “Black invitation card. Shoulda known she’d back out on it.”

The card in question flopped back onto the counter once he was done with it. Ren briefly took the card back and stuffing it back into his jacket pocket. Whilst Iwai remained seated, his attention shuffled over to the stack of briefcases on his side, exposing parts of the gecko tattoo on his neck.

Even if he were to tell him anything pertaining to the fact he wasn’t doing this above board, without endangering the airsoft shop, or anything of the sort, this man was difficult to negotiate with.

…Bringing up his son probably isn’t a good idea either.

But, if I could appeal to reason, then maybe?

Clearing his throat, Ren spoke politely. “If it’s your son that you’re worried about, I can at least guarantee his safety.”

From his chair, Iwai stared coldly back at him, eyes furrowing in an annoyed fashion. After what felt like a solid minute, Iwai stood up, defiantly towering above Ren and glowering. “Got some nerve talkin’ about my son, I’ll give ya that. Keep talkin’, let’s see where this goes.”

One foot in the door. But not on solid ground.

Ren adjusted his glasses and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m only going off what Ohya told me. You have a son, and that I should promise you that I can protect you and him.”

Once again, Iwai remained cold and detached from the matter, crossing his arms as he was standing up. “That s’posed to help put me at ease? Damned cops can’t do their jobs in Tokyo, much less guarantee shit. Prolly makes you no different from ‘em.”

Something about the way he was pressing his intense gaze at him made Ren feel like he was being observed differently from other yakuza members he’d been trained to deal with. Quite frankly, this wasn’t something he’d win by beating his chest and claiming he had the guts to deal with it or speak courageous words and sway a person.

And especially not one who was all about that life and moving away from it, from the looks of it. A mere moment passed before he scoffed again, eyeballing Ren directly.  “Appeal to me all ya want. Can’t help authorities if they can’t even help themselves.” He brushed his hand away and turned his back on Ren. “Ain’t no snitch.”

And thus the one foot was out of the door immediately, slammed shut before Ren could even retain anything else. Just because he was a detective. Perhaps another deal was to be made, but what else did Ren have up his sleeve that he could possibly be holding leverage of?

Sure, it was a ‘black invitation card’, but that didn’t mean much if he had no access to a party’s whereabouts or what it entailed. Whatever it may be, this was a dead end, for Ren and Makoto’s case, and possibly even for Akechi.

Not wanting to waste another moment, Ren resigned, defeated and out of ideas. Being nice had its limits too, and being mean would’ve caused problems with optics - again.

He made his way over to the reinforced door, and while he was taking a few steps towards it, it swung open. “Iwai-san,” a young boy’s voice rang out, his head facing downwards, “sorry I’m late.”

With a head of black and messy hair, the boy was wearing a Shujin Academy uniform with its signature black chevron turtleneck on display. Its red-buttoned black blazer was wrapped around his waist, accompanied by a red plaid pair of pants, and a colorful backpack around his shoulders.

When he looked back up, his eyes met with Ren, and vice versa. Immediately, he froze in place. “...Detective Amamiya?”

Before him at the doorway was Shinya Oda. Someone Ren thought he’d never see again past the case with Satoru Yamaguchi. The sudden memory of him dying at Ren’s own hands flashed back at him, how helpless he was choking on his own blood as the blade was planted into his throat.

Nevertheless, Ren cleared his throat again. “Shinya,” he addressed, trying to crack a smile. “Hey.”

His eyes gleamed back at Iwai, who sat back down and observed the scenario. “Hey kid. You’re early.”

“Yeah…” Shinya weakly muttered, rolling one of the straps of his backpack closer to his shoulder. “Gets the worm and whatnot…”

Ren quietly approached him and crouched closer to his frame. Even despite being sixteen, Shinya remained fairly shorter than he was. “How’re you holding up?”

“It’s…better, I guess.” Shinya said flatly. “What’re you doing here?”

Ren shrugged. “Well, I was working on a case. But I’m not likely to find answers here anymore.”

Suddenly, Shinya’s expression changed as he gunned for Iwai. “Iwai-san.” He spoke firmly. “Are you being a hardass again?”

“Not my fault he’s a cop. I ain’t got answers he’s lookin’ for.” Iwai responded curtly, returning back to his magazine. “He was just leavin’.”

That I was.

Ren politely bowed to Shinya and got out of his way, pre-emptively holding up his arm so he could push the door out. Once he got outside, Ren took a long exhale and stared up from the alleyway.

My way doesn’t work. Time and again this has been the answer to the question. Akechi’d probably be telling me she told me so.

The worst wasn’t even the fact he was wrong. It was more of the fact that despite that…

…Somebody’s gonna die tonight.

He closed his eyes and clicked his tongue. This couldn’t be the end of the investigation on his own terms. He’d already gotten so far with Ohya as is, perhaps it might be high time to get acquainted with alcohol to provide answers. Between a rock and a hard place, the one getting drunk with looser lips seemed like the better option.

…Until the door to Untouchable opened up again, and Ren didn’t even know who it was.

“You’re still here.” Iwai’s voice commented, alerting Ren in surprise. He lowered his head back to ground level and turned back around to face him. “Get back inside. Got somethin’ I wanna talk about.”

Not wanting to waste further time, Ren instinctively moved back into the airsoft shop, its air being ventilated out just a bit further. Shinya was now in charge of the counter, hanging up his coat and sitting where Iwai sat down previously. Before long, the door behind him closed, and Iwai spent some time looking at the outside glass.

He met up with Ren and waved over to Shinya. “Keep watch, if it’s nothin’ ya can handle, don’t be afraid to knock.” To which the younger boy nodded. Afterwards, he turned to face Ren. “You,” he pointed to the black curtains, “we’re gonna talk in the back.”

Ren shuffled on to the back rooms behind those curtains, where several olive-colored military cargo crates were haphazardly laid out alongside cardboard boxes containing parts for airsoft guns. A ladder intruded on Ren’s step, and he almost slammed his own foot against it in the narrow hallway. Caution tape plastered themselves on one side of the wall bearings closest to the entrance leading back out.

Laying comfortably on a stack of boxes was Shinya’s backpack. Iwai pushed Ren aside, slipping into the fabrication room and a spare chair. The door forcibly shut, leaving Shinya to man the counter alone without supervision, and thus Iwai took a seat, leaving Ren to stand instead.

“Alright,” Iwai began, tossing his used lollipop down on a nearby trash bin. Out of his pocket, he suddenly unwrapped another one and got it rolling around. “Kid’s vouchin’ for ya because he told me what ya did for him. I’ll hear you out.” His hand stretched out towards Ren. “Card.”

Ren did as he was told. He rummaged around his inner jacket pocket, and fished out the black card in his possession to hand over. Iwai took it off of him immediately, but did not retract his hand. “I gave this card to that journalist and her partner because we had a deal. Looks like they backed off.”

Ren leaned against the wall with whatever free space was available. “Miss Murakami has been injured.”

“Money trail. Yeah.” Iwai nodded slowly. “I got that part.”

Ren adjusted his glasses again and hummed. “Do you happen to be aware of the recent incident about Ikebukuro?”

Once more, he nodded. “My boys. I ain’t part of that life anymore, but that don’t mean I don’t know.”

“So we’re on the same page. A unification of the four families in Tokyo?”

“Yup.” Iwai nodded again. “Straight gang warfare. Geckos got to talkin’. Score was, we were s’posed to help ‘em. Neutral ground and all that. Osaka-based family, Majima Construction, was the front. Good kids, bad situation. Boys got jumped from the start by the new syndicate.” Iwai sighed and rolled his lollipop to the other end of his mouth. “S’about sendin’ messages. Don’t fuck with our turf, we won’t fuck with yours.”

While all of this was happening, Ren finally popped out his notebook and rolled to another page. He scribbled what he could into it - Osaka gang, Geckos, Majima. He wet his lips and tapped his pen on his forehead. “Any ties to other gangs? Seoul Rush, Triad?”

Iwai shook his head this time, remaining consistent with crossing his arms. “Be surprised if they were. It’s been all yakuza. Ain’t heard nothin’ about groups from Hong Kong or South Korea movin’ in on territory this big.”

Cross out Triad and Korean gang members. Ren nodded slowly and flipped to another page. “And the card?”

Iwai raised it up. “This here’s your ticket to my salvation. There’s been talks of big wigs gatherin’ together. Mega yacht type shit. Mega waste of time, more like,” Iwai chuckled. “Ohya and Murakami’s target was gonna be here. S’pose since you’re askin’, it’s yours too.”

“Where’s this party going to be?” Ren asked inquisitively.

“Kanogawa Fishing Pier.” Iwai said before laughing again. “It’s in international waters. A bit much, but that’s the plan.”

International waters. You gotta be fucking kidding me.

And how much dark money was peddled for this to work?!

Nevertheless, Ren jotted that down and rolled his eyes hard in disappointment. Highly illicit, near clandestine events and their point of entry is some rural fishing town’s port to get to waters? Was this truly the state of Tokyo’s problems?

“Now,” Iwai stood back up, towering over Ren as he finished his notes. Their eyes met, and Ren nervously swallowed.  “Before I give ya more, I need you to promise me somethin’.”

He slowly nodded. “Sure.”

Iwai backed off and nodded. “There’s documents on there that belong to the guy you’re lookin’ for, that much I know.”

“Let me guess,” Ren gave him pause, “you want me to steal some documents because they help tie you back to your old life?”

Iwai smirked at him, and leaned back against the fabricator table. “You already caught onto my drift. Yeah. Kaoru - that’s my son. His old man’s still got loose ends to tie up, and they’re listed in there to prove he was a big bad guy. And who knows…maybe it’ll lead ya to other people, including your own.”

Police. Politicians. Yakuza. Expect all three on the yacht.

Ren made note of it into his notebook and furrowed his eyebrows. For all he knew, this could’ve been a trap. Yet, given the nature of Iwai’s words and the fact that Ohya bought into it as well, it had to have been the truth. And a promise, per Ren’s code of honor, had to be upheld.

“When is this happening?” Ren pressed.

Iwai chuckled again. “Now that’s the kicker ain’t it? Not happenin’ ‘til a month away. Woulda been the next week or two if that Shido fella didn’t croak.”

He would've been there too, then…

And thus the folly of Akechi’s indecisiveness upended a whole lot of plans for a whole lot of people. But nevertheless, one month away was still a long time to figure out a plan of action and the best way to approach it.

The last bit of information Ren could possibly desire was the name. The man responsible for everything. And for that, he needed to pull out the photograph he had in his pocket. When he did so, he turned it around for Iwai to focus on. “I need a name for this man. I believe my partner and I alongside Ohya-san are chasing after the same person.”

It didn’t even take more than two seconds for Iwai’s smirk to turn into a grin. “Well I’ll be damned. Ya found ‘em.”

Once more, he extended his hand out to exchange the black card for the photograph. Ren did the same, extending out the photograph and picked up the black card in question. “This is the punk alright. Used to remember him when he was nothin’ more than a waterboy.” Iwai hummed and gave the photo back to Ren. Now, the card, information, and photograph were in his possession. “His name’s Junya Kaneshiro.”

The name, whilst relatively unknown to most, felt oddly familiar to Ren. But where, exactly…?

“Now, what I’m about to tell ya is likely gonna make you a walking target. Same with Ohya. And I guess Murakami, too.” Iwai began, readjusting his military cap. “Kaneshiro ain’t a man you can just walk up and arrest. He’s a finance guy for the yakuza. Ya gotta find wrongdoings the hard way, hence the documents.”

It was a name he’d have to remember. Junya Kaneshiro. He wrote it down in the notebook, and underlined it twice for emphasis.

“Don’t underestimate him.” Ren commented to himself. “I’ll look into it.”

“I’m relyin’ on ya to keep your promise, Ren.” Iwai said bluntly. “And from the looks you’ve been givin’ me, you could say we’re kindred spirits.”

Pocketing everything back inside, Ren tilted his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Whaddya mean, whaddya mean?” Iwai replied swiftly. “In my line of work, I’ve seen so many people with the face ya got. Thousand yards. Broken. Utterly fucked up.”

Iwai stood up and once again got close to him, and Ren almost backed off if not for the fact Iwai’s body language shifted into something perceptible this time - one of comfort, and an unexpected sincerity. He placed his hand on Ren’s shoulder and sighed deeply. “Tell me somethin’. That mugger, the one causin’ issues with Shinya. Is he…?”

Dead. Ren knew what he was thinking about, even if it was morbid.

If anybody else in this world could possibly comprehend the weight of a life in its own measure, it’d be somebody like Iwai. The true irony here was the fact that even though Ren was on the side that was supposed to be right, the one ex-yakuza member before him was getting everything correct, and he wasn’t.

With a rather solemn nod, Ren confirmed it, then looked away in shame. “He won’t bother Shinya anymore.”

“Hey.” Iwai’s voice reverberated into his body as he forced Ren to look at him again. “You stopped someone from hurtin’ another person you cared about. The kid told me the decision, and what ya did, even if he won’t ever know.” For the first time in this conversation, Ren saw Iwai smile with a level of genuineness as he got a pat on the back. “Bein’ honest, I misjudged ya pretty badly.”

Ren said nothing as his lips remained sealed and pursed. Another pat landed on his shoulders once Iwai moved back to the small hallway. “It ain’t easy bein’ a good man and doin’ what’s necessary. I should know.”

They exited out of the back, with Shinya lazily hanging out as Iwai emerged out of the curtains. His posture shuffled immediately, straightening his back and clearing his throat pretending like he was awake for the night. Ren exited out of the curtains shortly thereafter, following Iwai out. “Not that I’ll ever trust the fuzz, but you’re alright, Ren. Rather someone like you get into the business of dealin’ with it than most others.”

There were no handshakes here. Just an unspoken respect between the two of them. Ren nodded and hummed, briefly sliding his attention over to Shinya, who also gazed back. He forced a smile, waving at the young boy. He approached the counter, where Shinya began wiping off a small condensation stain he left behind.

“Hey Shinya.” Ren said. “I never asked. How’s your mom doing?”

“...Good. I guess, anyway.” Shinya replied flatly, setting the rag back down. “At least I can say she’s smiling that I’m alright.”

Good. Ren thought to himself, and in actuality a passing other thought ran across it. His soft smile turned into a wider grin temporarily. “I heard Gun About’s getting a sequel arcade release soon. Gun About: The Crimson Stranger. Wanna hit it up at some point?”

It was, for all intents and purposes, an attempt to get Shinya to smile again. One of the many locations Ren took him was his favorite pastimes, even if he wasn’t quite feeling it back then. To his surprise, Shinya was more than an expert, the boy was a prodigy at lightgun gaming.

At times he felt like he was more of a burden than a help if Shinya could dual wield the guns. All the same however, he’d step in if absolute precision was necessary and if Shinya wasn’t truly on his A-game in certain segments.

…He’d make a really good hobbyist for shooting. Probably why Iwai values him.

True enough, there was a semblance of interest in Shinya as his eyes showed a brief glint of light reflecting on it. “I’d like that, Detective Amamiya.” He said, almost smiling. “Lemme know where and when, alright?”

“Of course.” Ren chuckled, nodding his head before politely bowing once again. “I’ll find you here. Take care of yourself, alright?”

“You do the same, and keep doing what you’re doing man.” Shinya said, pointing at Ren. “Peace.”

Thus, Ren left the airsoft shop once Iwai held the door for him. As he got outside, the nightlife of Shibuya truly made itself apparent as the night sky greeted him, and the bustle resumed, louder than ever. But Iwai did not let him go, even after Ren got outside.

He instead shut the door behind him, and gave him a small nod. “One last thing before ya go.” He said, peering over to the entryway leading to the alley. Nobody else was coming tonight, but it never hurt to be too certain.

Ren put his hands back into his pockets and raised his head up. “My partner and I will find the documents. Rest assured, for Kaoru and your safety, we’ll find it.”

“I’m not talkin’ about that.” Iwai corrected him, leaning in closer. “Remember what I said. It ain’t easy, got it?”

“...I got it.” Ren replied.

Even Iwai saw past that, and scoffed as usual. “Think of it this way. Sometimes life gives ya somethin’ that feels like a burden, ‘til ya realize it was always somethin’ you were meant to do.”

In exchange, it was Ren’s turn to scoff before smiling. “Yeah. You do what’s right.”

“Men like us, it means protectin’ our world, our own corner. If one person is your world, then so be it.” Iwai nodded solemnly and turned back around, hand on the door. His head slightly addressed Ren one last time. “Keep that in your heart, and you’ll always be winnin’. Now go, and remember: We never met.”

For the rest of the night, Ren replayed that entire ordeal in his head, mentally taking notes of everything that unfolded as he returned to the Shibuya train station, heading back to Meguro Ward. A month was, effectively, still a month. He could do many things in that time, but a meticulous plan would likely occupy him the most.

Where would he even get the plans for the yacht? 

Politicians, he already understood. After Shido, and Owada, there was no telling how deep the rabbit hole ran. Police, okay. There’s obvious moments where Ren ran into people that were obviously out to get him. But the Yakuza being a part of the story, too, all culminating in three sectors of what was effectively entrenched in the foundations of Tokyo?

That was too much to handle for just one person. On the train, he pondered.

If he were to bring Makoto into this, there’d be no telling the amount of answers they could find. But she was preoccupied in helping Eiko recover from her own injuries.

And for Akechi…

There was no telling what unpredictability and chaos she’d add to the factor. Especially after the brothel, where, as Akihiko described it, over forty people were brutally chopped up. Less than half belonged to Ren, but he didn’t even consider it kills of his own.

Akechi or Makoto. Both had downsides and upsides.

If there were two journalist invitations, they would be anticipating two people to come aboard, not one. He’d have to choose.

And the choice, contrary to what he was thinking, was obvious. His ways do not work, and therefore it was a fool’s errand to consider going about it the way he wanted it. One can only fight fire with fire. There’d be ground rules to discuss, of course, but beyond that, Kaneshiro must be dealt with.

Upon the return home, Ren took off his shoes and got the evidence out. Surprisingly, the lights indoors weren’t on. He gently slid a switch up, and dim lights made themselves known inside their shared kitchen.

A white bowl and some utensils were already submerged with water, likely from Akechi’s late lunch. But, if that were true, where was she? Ren scoured the living room to ensure she wasn’t sleeping again, She was not, in fact, in the house at all.

“Akechi?” Ren’s voice called out, reverberating upstairs. No response. He wiped his hands with a towel, and headed upstairs. Her door was ajar, with clothes still splayed out messily on the floor. What changed, however, was Ren seeing the baggy clothes she was wearing earlier before he left on her bed. The bat was missing, yet all the truly dangerous weapons - serrated katana and pistol - weren’t taken.

…Someone’s died anyway.

A bead of sweat dripped down as Ren, having deduced that, wiped it away. What bothered him right now wasn’t the fact she was out for blood, rather, she still hadn’t cleaned up her room.

After gathering essentials, Ren reorganized what he found around Akechi’s bedroom. Underneath her fairly rank hoodie, he found evidence of other clothes he’d never seen her wear before - sleeveless tank top, black graphic t-shirt, several sweats of various shades of black, and surprisingly, something that wasn’t complete darkness - a white long-sleeved turtleneck. Several layers of underwear need not be mentioned.

Was she trying on new clothes, or perhaps, were these clothes she was wearing to begin with whenever Ren was at work? He didn’t really have an answer to that, nor would he be nosy enough to pry.

Instead, he placed them all in a hamper for washing and drying duty for tonight. It was the least he could do, after all. Anything else in her personal hamper in the bathroom, he took. Even the towel she was using, he took and quietly replaced with a backup found nearby. 

While he was double checking her clothes, he found something highly suspicious he’d never seen before laid out on the marble countertop: A long stretch of what looked like bandage wrappings at first, rolled messily out and on full display.

But as Ren touched them, he realized they didn’t have the texture of bandages. In fact, it was quite soft and silky when he rubbed it in his hands. If anything, this had the material texture of cloth. Lifting it up to his nose, he gave it a subtle sniff. Mildly rank, but nothing too concerning. If this was here, it meant it was designed to be kept outside. Don’t touch it, don’t think about it.

Now is not the time to be distracted.

Ren disregarded the fabric and cleared his throat, moving right along with heading downstairs. Laundry first, mission after. Questions later. Perhaps dinner after this, if anything - and he was feeling fancy with some homemade ramen, although he’d have to search up techniques on how to make some, and if he couldn’t…well, the backup of instant ramen has never failed.

With everything set in motion, once he descended downstairs, he heard the sounds of heavy and ragged breathing, followed by even heavier footsteps approaching. From the hallway, he saw her, and his eyes and attention widened in disbelief. 

The bat rolled with a certain heft across the floor, dragging blood across the floor, rivulets of crimson dripping down steadily. Akechi, on the other hand, had traces of dry blood on her figure cloaked in black. Her mask was rolled down below her chin. Most of what she wore was caked in dry blood from the ride here, sans the bat.

“Akechi…!” Ren called out, his voice almost silenced in the croak. He dropped the hamper down and rushed towards her. Clothes spilled haplessly on the floor, and that didn’t matter right now.

Her demeanor was empty, to say the least. Blood-red eyes filled with the lust for death were apparent, but they lacked the predatorial feel he was too used to seeing. To boot, the same expression, or lack thereof, was present. Akechi was not smiling at this ordeal, nor was she intent on letting bloodshed be an enjoyment for tonight.

For all intents and purposes, this was not the Akechi that was masquerading out as The Black Mask, or as the criminal empire tokened her as the Kurozukume. This was Akechi, the woman who killed her father and still had no sense of purpose after the fact. Those eyes of hers reflected a life devoid of meaning.

When they met Ren’s gaze as he came over to her, only then did she softly smile at him and her demeanor shifted. The glint in her eyes shifted back to earthly tones, and Akechi bit her lower lip before tilting her head over to him, slowly licking her lips - and the blood off of them.

“Honey…I’m home.”

Chapter Text

“In a world where everyone wears a mask, it’s a privilege to see a soul.” - Amanda Richardson

March 25th, 20XX
Evening
Ren and Akechi’s Safehouse

The sounds of the bat clattered wetly as it clanged across the floor, leaving an impressive stain of red in its rolling wake. Already, Ren was on it. For the past few minutes, he’d gotten out the bleach and other cleaning products, alongside several sponges to absorb the blood gathering around the floors.

The question remained of who she killed tonight. A criminal needn’t be mentioned, that was already a given. Was she perhaps too hasty in wanting to pursue their target, or was this out of a compulsive need? From the looks of it, the latter seemed the most plausible in Ren’s mind.

A separate bucket was already soaking in the bat’s bloodied contents, staining the pristinely clear water with its crimson shades. Whilst that was underway, Ren gently scrubbed the tracks off bit-by-bit, sponge in hand with a generous amount of soap. Though parts of it were drying already, it was easy to clean off if it wasn’t being asked to dry any further. Anything else, and it’d be time for salt and cold water.

For Akechi, she applied cold water alongside a nice and wet towel upon her face, wiping herself cleanly of any dried blood caked onto her skin. She took a long and deep breath before exhaling loudly. “Must you make a woman wait so eagerly, dear…?” She whispered over to Ren, planting her hand on his shoulder whilst he was working. “The anticipation kills me.”

“It was a lot more information than I thought,” Ren said, getting back on his knees. “And besides, I thought you were going to wait for me?”

She giggled again, heat of her breath tickling his ear. “I merely wanted to confirm something. It’s still so adorable that you worry.”

Of course I do. Who do you take me for?

Ren didn’t say it, but the thought was on his mind. He hadn’t the need for it, since telling her wouldn’t speed up cleaning the floors.

“It’s on the countertop. Notes, an invitation, and the photo you gave me.” Ren said.

By the time Ren made it to the doors of the elevator, the pressing thought of what he was gonna do with Akechi’s black leathered boots and jacket remained to be seen. Usually this was her responsibility, but he couldn’t be in two places at once detailing her their next mission and taking care of her clothes.

If only a bit of rain were outside, it might’ve been easier to wash it all away. Instead, he’d be using leather conditioner and gently dabbing the blood away bit by it in hopes it’d resemble something pristine - and this wouldn’t be the first time. She taught him, after all.

There was a pleasant hum once Akechi returned back to him with notebook and card in hand. “Junya Kaneshiro.” She mused, smiling. “What a despicable name for such a mongrel. And we’re expected to simply wait around for a month until this…event?”

Ren rinsed one of the sponges out into another bucket and got a towel to dry up the walls. He gave a brief glance over to her observing the black invitation card. “That’s our ticket in. Ohya’s source told me they’ll be expecting two people.”

“Oh my,” Akechi smirked at him, fanning her own face with the card. “And you chose your beloved wife…? Renren, you shouldn’t have!” She giggled again.

“...Who else was I supposed to choose?” Ren asked, chuckling. “Although, I don’t know if they’ll believe you and I are reporters. They’ll be expecting as much.”

She hummed softly again. “A high society masquerade, of that, I am certain.” Her voice rang sweetly along the hallway. “Scum of the earth often desire to flaunt their power over others. This will be no different.”

Akechi slowly walked towards Ren as he did his work, brushing her hand over his to help briefly clean the bloodstain off. Once more, Ren stole a glance off of her as she did the same. “I don’t have a suit.”

“We’ll find some.” Akechi reaffirmed, lifting the towel off. “We’d be caught immediately if I walked in with what I’m wearing.” As she said that, Ren stopped temporarily, glancing at her a little longer than normal, envisioning some amalgamation of formal attire for her. For as long as he’d known her, this was the only thing she ever wore. A dark suit for her would be fitting alongside his. Perhaps, he stared a little too long, catching the glance of Akechi on his end. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Ren commented, almost blushing at the fact. He only heard her hum pleasantly at his flustered response, returning back to work washing the bloodstained hand-prints off.

The elevator returned to its original condition after intense washing, and she pressed the button to disengage the door from being permanently open. Ren exited out of there with one bucket in hand, and the sponge submerged.

The bat came after. Warm water, soap, dry rag. Submerging it in water was probably the better idea to help the vast majority of iron and salts on the length, but the rest would be up to her instead of him for tonight. Splashing the warmth in his hands against the cold metal, Ren witnessed the stains slowly recede into the water as his hands reddened from the effort.

“Alright.” Ren muttered to himself. “Dinner time?”

He turned around, only to find Akechi was no longer on the same floor as him. Her boots and leather jacket were missing from their respective places from earlier - front of the hallway, on the coat hanger. Even the hamper that spilled her clothes was put near the laundry room, ready to receive service. “...Akechi?” He called out, looking upstairs.

The silence in response was the answer. She already went upstairs, and he didn’t notice her light footwork. He’d already lost so much time in trying to clean up the mess that, in the heat of it all, he didn’t even notice her heading upstairs.

There was still the discussion of their next steps for tonight. But even then, that could be at any point before the next month. A suit was necessary, sure, and he could get fitted tomorrow, or the day after, or even a week later. If they were out of time, nothing wrong with going to a formal warehouse and getting something nice, but not too fancy.

For now though, his plans were set for dinner, and a nice relaxing shower.

Thus he set off, pulling out the necessary ingredients. He had already prepared the dashi, or soup broth, since the morning, alongside with marinated eggs. In this house, ramen without eggs was sacrilege he wouldn’t stand for.

It was the only thing he had to prepare ahead of time.

Complex soup broth often needed at least six hours to ferment and simmer in itself properly before it could be usable. Freshly cooked broth, a long while back when he first tried it, was a mess of flavors. Nothing cohesive came together, and while the distinctive flavor of soy sauce and the like existed, all of it was divided.

A quick Google search indicated he already failed if he wanted some restaurant quality chashu ready. Letting it simmer in with the broth and then adjusting it with the sauce would’ve likely made it super flavorful and tender. Alas, he would have to resort with some leftover chashu not intended for ramen - but it was at least a lesson learned.

At least the rest of the ingredients weren’t too harsh. Reheating the soup on the stove would effectively cook the noodles alongside with everything else, so setting aside all of it for now was his best option.

Best I start the spin cycle for her clothes, too.

With a warm smile, Ren made his way over to the laundry room and quietly deposited Akechi’s clothes in. A small part of the blood on her cloak stained his hands, but it wasn’t anything to worry about - a hot shower awaited him nevertheless.

Upstairs, Ren took the aluminum bat with him, and he noted that Akechi’s door was once again ajar instead of closed. He peeked inside briefly, hearing the sounds of shower noises and her soft humming behind another open door leading to the bathroom. Lights already illuminated her otherwise dark room, and he saw her jacket and leather boots set aside, freshly cleaned. 

A pair of clothes were set out on her bed ready to be worn for the night, and while he only briefly skimmed it, nothing seemed out of the ordinary for him. He set the bat next to it, and departed back to his own guest bedroom. Routine blurred into one another - stripping off clothes, putting it into the hamper, washing himself, getting ready for a warm and relaxing soak.

As he sat, staring up to the ceiling in tranquility despite the sudden chaos, Ren pondered to himself. A mega-yacht was something unthinkable. There’d be no way to study any plans for it without getting caught on an infiltration attempt. He’d have to scope out the small fishing village’s pier ahead of time also.

And it didn’t even account for the fact that if they had the card, could they still assume the identity of reporters - and if so, wouldn't security be expecting two girls, not one girl and one guy?

…There could be a technicality. After all, nobody had realistically ever seen Ichiko Ohya or Kayo Murakami outside of work. Worse lies have been told that people believed.

Masquerade party, eh?

The thought of wearing a mask brought him back to his old apartment, and the soft reminder that Akechi had, in fact, left him a parting gift in her own surgical black mask he wanted to put on at some point. Out of morbid curiosity, nothing more. Perhaps, he too, only ever wore glasses to blend in to society more than he could ever need.

Kaneshiro. Where exactly did he first learn of the name? It still eluded him.

Seeing Shinya today was something else. I’m glad he’s doing alright. Gotta check the release date of Gun About at some point again.

I wonder how things are going with that girl back at the brothel. Mina, right…? Yeah. Mina. I wonder if she’s pulling her life together?

…Wait.

Ren made a large splash against the bathtub, sitting back up. Water splashed down and safely into the drain accompanying the shower nearby. He placed his thumb and index on his chin and mentally retraced his steps.

At the brothel. Mina. Then Akechi came in, but before that…

A small spark went off as Ren recalled it then. Amidst the chaos unfolding, he remembered it, and he wished he hadn’t. The massacre. As much as he wanted to pretend it didn’t happen…

Akechi…

He sighed, sinking back into the tub. He wasn’t even certain these days if his words were getting through to her, especially considering the outcome now. Another person died tonight, and he’ll never know who it was outside of them being a criminal, and for what reason. Could he have talked her out of it, or perhaps could he even have stopped her?

And yet, his body betrayed him still, as his mind wandered back to the more recent times. That softness of hers slowly peeking through, enabling him to land a few blows with her even when he was clearly at a disadvantage. That night, when she crawled into bed with him, still lingered.

And the fact she was very…pleasant. Flirty, even. Probably the most he’d remembered her as.

No…

Focus.

Ren shook his head and stepped out of the bathtub. Already, his body was reacting to the passing thought when he needed to be thinking about the infiltration. It was already receding back down, thankfully. Was it nerves, anxiety, or the fact this was a scope beyond anything else? From one minor politician to the head of the yakuza’s finances?

He’d probably resign if this wasn’t already a life he was too deeply into.

Ren rolled his shoulders around and promptly grabbed the towel, drying off what he could before blowdrying his hair moderately, and then slipping into his comfy loungewear. As he exited out into his own bedroom, the silence was almost a little too quiet in their safehouse. Was she out again, or did she pass out from exhaustion she’d been manifesting?

When he made his way out to the overlook to the ground floor, there was no television playing, no music playing, and all of the lights and ingredients were as he left them to be. The washer in the distance whirred away into the night. If he had to guess, it’d take another twenty minutes for that load to complete, then the final spin cycle would mean it’d be time for it to go dry.  He shuffled back around, finding it still ajar without any sounds of running water or her traces of humming.

As he approached, quietly peering into the room, what awaited him was something even Ren had trouble comprehending at first. He politely knocked on her door, and stepped in. “Akechi. I was thinking we could discuss plans before dinner.”

She was busy rearranging whatever was left behind that wasn’t clothes from earlier - her personal journal, some literature books on her nightstand, anything to make her bedroom cleaner. Her gaze shifted back to him as she stood up from a crouched position. “If it’s all the same, I’m quite certain we could talk about planning tomorrow.”

It was quite unusual, not about Akechi wanting to withhold planning, but her cleaning on her own in recent times. These past weeks have been primarily Ren doing most of the work, and her having a sudden boost of energy must’ve come from somewhere. Whatever it might’ve been, Ren was happy to see it.

Again, he did not notice her other clothes, only that she wore her baggy sweatpants and a different hoodie from the last one. Honestly, all of them looked the same, yet if he could examine them further they’d be different.

Not that he’d be distracted. With a nod, he leaned on the doorframe and warmly smiled back at her. “Sure.” He pointed over. “Did you want help?”

She tilted her head and hummed in a chipper tone, stretching her arms backwards before folding them. “Perhaps. I’m wondering about something, of course…”

In exchange, he tilted his head. “Go for it.”

Sure enough, what happened next was nothing Ren had anticipated in his life. Akechi quietly tugged at the hems of her hoodie, and began lifting it up. “You see, lately…I can’t help but think you’ve been staring at me with a certain…interest.”

Ren blinked. “Uh…” He uttered softly, before nervously chuckling at the sight. Scratching his head, he was prepared to turn away. “What do you mean?” 

Akechi’s black hoodie was discarded, falling straight to the ground. What was revealed was nothing more than white cloth wrapped around her chest tightly. His eyes traced over it briefly - unwittingly - as he caught sights of light scars and wounds that did not heal properly amidst everything else. Though brief, he could only feel those belonged from a time before they ever met, and she was a lot sloppier with her work.

 In a flash, she was already gliding towards Ren. In one fluid motion, he felt his arm get tugged along - enough that he almost stumbled. With his momentum disrupted, he suddenly found himself right in front of her, in a space far, far too close for comfort as her chest pressed up against him briefly.

“Darling…” Akechi giggled seductively, biting her lower lip. “Surely you must understand what I’m getting at…?”

I’ve done it now - and I’m fucking doomed.

In front of him, he witnessed her tug at the bands of her sweatpants, casually letting them slip down until she was only wearing her chest binds. It took a moment for Ren to register what had happened, and his body reacted before him. A rising heat emerged directly to his face, and he turned away back to the door, taking a step back. “I should…I should definitely let you change.”

Beads of sweat formed around Ren’s brow as he flinched, an array of fingers sensually rolling down his chest from behind. A part of his fist remained clenched against his legs, urging him to focus on the reality and not what he wanted to think. Still, his body betrayed him. Even when she was next to him, just within reach…

A certain length grew, gnawing at his senses, tugging away at the hems of his sweats this time. It was then that Akechi giggled into his ear, warm and sultry. “It’s only natural my husband craves to see what his wife looks like underneath…wouldn’t you agree?”

A flash of her grin greeted him then, as Ren flushed even harder, closing up his thighs. “Please…look at me.” Akechi purred, imploring him, and her hands compelled him to turn back around. He had no other choice but to comply, even amidst his own resistance not to. 

Her gaze met his, they stared into each other once more. Akechi’s view remained, half-lidded, almost fluttering an unspoken desire. Yet, the more Ren looked into them, there was a hidden hint of something more beyond the depths of her playful teasing.

Subtle vibrations of her body gave away a level of uncertainty to her confident words. She was trembling, even if she couldn’t quite admit that. A passing thought made its way to Ren’s mind, especially back when they sparred at the gym merely two days ago. That was with purpose - of a want for him to see her, because she knew, like he knows, this would get to him.

Not only was this an escalation of the highest magnitude, but this only affirmed to Ren that this too was yet another way to make him lose focus.

He swallowed nervously as the sounds of the washer continued on amidst their silence. Was her room always this hot? Or maybe…it was her presence that was warmer than normal? He didn’t even have time to consider Kaneshiro or the yacht plan, as his senses faintly picked up the pleasant scent of cedar, its earthy fragrance and inviting aroma emanating from the strands of her locks. 

Whatever the case, Ren’s mind was all over the place trying to do anything but pay attention to the obvious in front of him. Assisted by Akechi, his arms were caged to the small of her back and cautiously up to an opening of her binds. In unspoken words, he knew he was being asked to help undo them at the behest of her own wishes.

Her warm breath tickled up against his skin as Ren, nervously swallowing one again, unwrapped the first segment of her binds. He wanted to close his eyes, turn away, and respectfully perform what she wanted. But as soon as his hands were freed, he felt the caress of both palms on his cheeks, forcing him to look regardless. A soft slip of her tongue rolled across her lower lips as the first roll was undone. His eyes remained squarely closed.

“Sweetheart…” Akechi hushed out, giggling again. “You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you…?” Her hand brushed over his chest as she grinned wider, feeling his heartbeat. “This is honest with me.”

Judgement had befallen this moment. A challenge, even if he hadn’t intentionally walked in on it with knowledge of what was to come. This didn’t feel like a true invitation. Not something as one-sided as this.

Is this a test? It has to be, right?

Think, Ren. Not of her, but of the plan, something - anything!

He shook his head and chuckled back at her. “You’ve seen me naked, too. It might be only fair, right?” Ren, doing his best, tried to banter. But that was a horribly stupid thing to say in a flustered moment.

Slowly, he unwrapped further, the sensation of white, silky cloth burdening his hand, as an unexpected warmth began enveloping around, a stark contrast to the trembling sensations he felt, small bumps on Akechi’s skin reminding him of the situation.

Along the way, he managed to touch one of her scars. It was too jagged, too rough to be inflicted from anything less than a fight. Akechi lightly gasped as he traced it along his fingers, and back to the silky cloth. 

By force, her hands pried the lids of his eyes open, and it all but confirmed his suspicions. As their eyes pierced into each other, he saw her earthly glint within her eyes mix itself in with worry, of evaluation, of something more. Between several modes of wanting Ren to see, but also being absolutely terrified this was the only other person in her life that was even remotely allowed to see what was unfolding.

Or perhaps it was all projection for the swirl of emotions he was feeling deep down.

Yet, it didn’t shake the feeling that Akechi was scared on the other end. The lesser of two energies belonged to her, even if he wasn’t the orchestrator of this event. The second section of the wrap became undone, loosening her chest further. On the one hand, he felt an immeasurable responsibility of being able to witness this. On the other…was he ever permitted this to begin with? Of all things, why now?

When the vestige of the fabric came looser, Ren managed to make contact with bare skin at the end. Pleasantly warm to the touch, insatiably giving him a desire - I want to see it all.

But I don’t want to know everything.

His fingers stopped at the last strip of fabric, and the white cloth gently plopped down, exposing all that was underneath Akechi’s physique.

Don’t look down. Just focus on her.

She said to look at her, right? Stay with that.

Her hand caressed his cheek, and she gave him an opposing objective. “What do you see…?” Her eyes shot down briefly, signaling he do the same.

“I…” Ren trailed off, finding it difficult to even place words in his own mouth.

And his eyes, against even his most logical thoughts, submitted to instinct. They slid down, out of curiosity. Not of volition. ‘Gratuitious’ wouldn’t even have encompassed the sight he bore witness to. Even in his dream, back on that hospital bed when he was in a four day coma, when he saw a fragment of imagination as to what she was…

Bare, yet covered in rivulets of blood, mocking him in fragments of guilt and shame.

Seduction, as it was embodied, beckoning. To give in. Indulge in her curves in all the ways that mattered to him.

All of that paled in comparison to the reality of what was right here, a few inches away.

And he was harder than ever, against all odds, as he quickly readjusted the hems of his pants. As he finished, his eyes shot back up immediately back to hers, as she was preoccupied with what was down below his. The gesture only drew more attention.

She’s toying with me because she knows…

A physiological response, even when his mind knew this wasn’t the time, even if it was in her place. Suddenly, all of it made sense to him as to why she’d been wearing everything the way she was. Baggy clothes, unremarkably so to cover, and remain anonymous. Concealed, yet carrying forward. Underneath was an arsenal, between the scars and the sheer heft he witnessed.

And what of the clothes on her bed? Those were to make him realize she could’ve unloaded this at any point, and nobody would be prepared for it. Was it for her protection, or for everybody else’s? The answer, akin to many unexpected variables, was unknowable. Yet, his body, against his mind, begged to know. To understand.

Akechi scanned his every subtle jerk of movements - until she pushed him into her bed, forcing him to take a seat as she straddled his lap. Her impish smirk met him, and she took a deep, steady breath, counter to her otherwise hitched ones on the way to this moment. 

Ever quicker to the catch - she took both of his arms in her possession, smiling at him almost gleefully. Their eyes locked once more, his gaze bore into hers. Hands trembled between the two. He felt an uneasy squeeze, fingers locked together with Akechi’s. “You’ve been so patient, dear Renren…just reach forward, and you’ll have me.”

But there’s more to it. 

There has to be.

You wouldn’t offer this to me right now without a motive.

The thought rang out in Ren’s mind. As awestruck as he was, he had to play her game. Don't fall for it. Don’t even consider what’s in front of him - think harder. Think of her, even as his hands traced along her bare skin.

What are you telling me without saying so…?

A sudden smirk flashed on his face. A gamble, nothing more. “And what’ll I find if I do?”

One hand freed itself from his grasp, and he felt a tug down at the hems of his pants, forcing a quiet flinch. Akechi’s hand quietly grazed against his length, cupped in her hands. Observing her every movement - uncertainty amidst wanton desire, and a forbidden compulsion, all wrapped in one package. Her eyes briefly flickered back to his, and she smirked at him.

The easiest answer was not the right one, and the unspoken craving she demanded he sink into wasn’t what he wanted out of her. Thus, he reached - arms enveloping all around her, grabbing a hold of her waist…

And he pulled her into him, into an embrace as she was on top of him. He tightened his arms wrapped around her as she shook heavily - unexpectedly even - trembling within his own personal space. Akechi’s shoulders slumped and figure slacked down. He heard her lightly gasp again, almost like a soft squeak. Tensions eased, yet her quivering remained intense, skin burning with a different heat.

And Ren could only embrace her, holding delicately onto the nape of her neck, small of her back, into one harmonious and tender hug as he held her tightly. “Despite everything, I think you know the answer as to what I see…” He said, whispering it warmly into her ears this time. With one fluid motion, he brushed away her bangs and caressed her cheek delicately in the palms of his hands. “Wherever you may be, I’ll always see you.”

A long moment passed before one soft, yet relieving sigh exited Akechi’s lips, unsure of what else to say. He could feel her gaze flickering back to him - even more indecisiveness enveloped her expressions. Her breath steadied, and inevitably, her arms reached around his shoulders as she warmly smiled.

“I…” Akechi, in her softness, whispered back to him.

“Should probably get changed.” Ren completed her sentence and chuckled, just before his smile faded. “Akechi.” In acknowledgement, she quietly hummed, yet said nothing else in return.

Brushing her bangs away, he went for it, no subtlety whatsoever. Lips warmly planted themselves on her forehead, and there was no resistance from Akechi in doing so. Feeling emboldened, Ren went in for a second, even more tender one, before receding. And he smiled back, doing the only thing he was supposed to for her. “You’re beautiful, but we can’t think about that when there’s more pressing matters.”

“I suppose…you’re right.” Akechi said, turning the other cheek. Her fingers gently traced the edges of Ren’s jawline, rolling back and forth on it before departing. For what felt like a forever stretching onwards, they sat together, quietly hand-in-hand, before any other physiological responses quietly died down on the matter.

Not tonight.

Kaneshiro had to be addressed.

Gradually, when it was time, Akechi proceeded to scoot off of him, quietly slipping into her usual format of loungewear for the night, the very same baggy hoodie and sweatpants, just without the cloth to bind her. Ren cleared his throat and stood back up, choosing to remain by her side as she idled, readjusting her clothes to fit herself again.

When it was time to depart downstairs, Ren exited first, just in time for the washer’s beep to go off. He’d almost forgotten he had to make the both of them ramen for the night, and Ren got right back to it, descending the stairs swiftly. 

In-between all the noise blurring together, he heard the sounds of the dryer turning on and the television as well, not playing any news, rather some odd segment where it was a rerun of the weather channel with city pop playing.

With the stove ignited, Ren transferred the pot of broth over to its flames and let it simmer. It’d take some time, but for the rest of the evening, they’d have plenty of that in mind. He pulled out two bowls and set them aside.

Akechi slid over to the barstool, taking a seat on the kitchen counter islands. Ren’s personal case notes were still displayed out on said counters, and once more she mulled them over. Ren took the opposite seat and crossed one leg over another. “Are you sure you’re fine, going out at night doing what you do?”

She slid her gaze over to him again, without lifting or turning her head. Akechi pursed her lips and quietly hummed to herself. “Your concerns are valid. But…” She chuckled, tilting her head up. “I enjoy what I do.”

“More than teasing me?” Ren said. It only made her laugh more.

“That remains to be seen.” She responded.

He grazed her hand, partaking in looking over his notes with her. “Then why’d you not smile until you saw me?”

She had no answer, other than the one Ren could conclude by himself. At the very least, it’d be one that couldn’t be answered without risking everything between them, too fast and too far. The question was not whose life she ended, but for what reason outside of their status as a criminal.

Thus, Akechi remained silent, only standing up from her stool quickly and went over to investigate the pot of broth. “Can this go by faster? I’d like to rest after.”

Ren stood up alongside her, placing his palm up against her back. “You’re not getting away if I feed you seconds.” He teased, looking into the pot. 

Sure enough, it seemed pretty much ready. He didn’t need to recook it, just bring it to a good warmth. With a ladle, he spooned their contents into their respective bowls and set them quickly aside. Fetching the marinated eggs out, he began slicing them in even halves - two for him, two for her. The rest of the chashu would cook itself under the heat of the broth as he firmly squished them into the soup.

Chopsticks were last. With a delicate balancing act, he managed to hand over Akechi’s bowl first, and she scurried away back to the living room to swap channels to something else. Ren came in second, turning the stove off and placing his bowl on the coffee table.

A fictional show about a reality television game where a battle royale unfolded every day. Absurdly violent for television standards, yet somehow entertaining for the masses - it was just a game, after all.

From there, they quietly ate their first few bites in silence, watching the show. For something described as violent and edgy, there was a surprising amount of good character drama to it.

As Akechi blew onto her noodles and slurped some contents of the shoyu broth, Ren became relatively absorbed in enjoying the rest of their night together in peace. That is, until she cleared her throat and turned to him. He stopped chewing briefly to address her, tilting his head.

“Do you think I’d look good in a dress, dear…?”

And he choked.

Chapter Text

“To be independent of public opinion is the first formal condition of achieving anything great.” - Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel

Day 9

The past few days weren’t very eventful. I thought, ‘I should write something’. But what exactly could I write to fill 8 days of useless info?

Akechi’s invited me out to Shinagawa today. Thought I could use a break away from all the time I’ve been going to the gym. I’m sore anyway, so, she might be right. Over the past few days not much has really happened. Some dabbles, mostly. Masquerade outfits ordered, draft plans on how to advance, and our story should anybody ask.

They’ll be expecting Ohya and Kayo, so…obviously she’s Kayo. But I can’t use Ichiko. I promise, we’re professional. Or at least we pretend to be.

I can’t stop thinking about Akechi and that night. What did any of it mean, as a test? I can’t understand her thoughts. Did she want me to look at her as a man, or something…more? But why did I feel like I was gonna die if I did?

Much to think about. And I wonder…

---------

April 3rd, 20XX
Morning
Shinagawa Aquarium

“Darling…” Akechi whispered to him, sensually rolling her fingers towards his arms, and Ren’s gaze slid back up, once more ascertaining what she was wearing.

Unlike her usual attire, Akechi wore something different today. He was so used to seeing a black blob in the form of a hoodie and sweats that for today,she wore a short-sleeved t-shirt with beige slacks and a light jacket alongside her usual black leather boots. True to her intentions - she wasn’t binding her chest for this.

Ren pushed his glasses up and cleared his throat, holding onto that thought as he set his personal journal and pen away. “Don’t get lost in writing.” Akechi said, tugging his arm along.

As he observed her, wearing something different for today’s date together, Ren smiled and walked along. Though she looked absolutely fabulous today, this was more of a calculated risk on her end as she went along with him, hand-in-hand.

Several other guests were lined up near the entrance as the doors opened, collectively forming another line to get tickets. They were lucky this wasn’t summer, because on top of the younger children, kids from high school would’ve swarmed this aquarium in droves. Today, for them, was a lot quieter than it was supposed to be. 

They were also lucky this wasn’t the Maxwell Aqua Park. It would’ve been swarming with tourists for today, even if it was a much more vibrant experience. Old fashioned, to say the least. Once they managed to acquire tickets inside, they were met with the informational first exhibit everybody goes through, ‘Marine Life Found in Tidal Basins’. Small grouper fish and medium sized ones were found here.

“Why’d you pick here?” He asked, as they both quietly observed all the fish moving about, including a formation of groupers swimming in a circle.

“Because you looked bored.” Akechi replied curtly, before giggling. “No, I’m kidding. This is a fairly famous spot for couples. Maintain appearances and whatnot.”

“Who do we have to prove this relationship to?” Ren asked, looking at the tank full half-lined cardinalfish floating.

“Everyone,” Akechi replied again, smirking whilst brushing up against him. “They have to know you’re mine, and only mine, after all.”

Ren only cherished the moment as he felt her presence closely. He chuckled and squeezed her hand. “I get it, alright?” He looked around him, and already noticed a few girls looking at him eagerly at first before turning away. “But I only have eyes for you, even if we’ve only kissed maybe once…”

She scoffed, and side-eyed him before meeting his smile with hers. “Keep talking, maybe you’ll kiss the last bullet in my gun to your head. Like you did a week ago.”

Ouch.

But nevertheless, Ren chuckled at the thought, sliding back up as they moved along to the next exhibit, typically where shallow watered fish resided. The tour guide was out sick today, but they had plans to make sure it wasn’t devoid of information. In recent years, the aquarium was trying out a new automated process to help streamline workers around.

“Although sawfish look similar to sharks, they actually belong to the family of rays! Down further, you will find an exhibit of stingrays - those are its cousins. Did you know? There are five subspecies of…” 

And on and on did the cute little robot give out information with lively hand movements to an interested group of young adults, looking around as that very same sawfish was swimming in a huge tank meant for captivity.

Several people slid past that group surrounding the robot, and both Ren and Akechi slipped on by before stopping around the middle of the walkway. He turned to face her. “I’d like to make a quick suggestion.”

“Hmm?” Akechi hummed, addressing Ren. “And what might that be?”

He chuckled, taking off his glasses. “Here,” he said, quietly sliding them alongside her features. Much like the last time they went on a date together, she also wore his frames. This time though, she didn’t have a bruised face to hide. With a gentle push up the bridge of her nose, he grinned. “Very cute.”

Although it took her a moment to adjust, she sighed and brushed a small set of locks behind her ears. “My, you truly are…fascinating.”

“We can keep going,” Ren said, offering his hand to her once more. She hummed, a bit of pep to her tune and took it, intertwining both their fingers together.

Avoiding a crowd was best, and the upcoming first guide of the main tunnel walk was coming soon. Swiftly, both of them quietly walked down the tunnel tank as best as they could, admiring the occasional manta ray, sea turtle, school of blue tangs, and even a rare sawfish passing by them. A diver was getting ready to dive along, but both Ren and Akechi did not pay much attention to them as the large crowd began huddling up together.

Somehow, they managed to not run into a snag and entered into another, quieter exhibit. Cold water sea creatures awaited them in a big and blue room, just before the jellyfish, the halfway point before the exit to the aquarium. Before long, Akechi took a breather over in a quieter corner.

There was a light tug at her t-shirt, like it was too tight all of a sudden, alongside her eyes shifting around, scanning her environment. Curiously, nobody else was paying attention to her. It wasn’t even hot inside despite the crowd. 

With a deep sigh, she closed her eyes and wet her lips. “Is it possible for you to bring me some water?” She asked, her gaze flicking back up to meet Ren’s own. He only took one look around them.

“There’s plenty of water around us, Akechi. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed.” He smirked and chuckled to himself.

She huffed and smirked at him. She glowered and lightly punched Ren in the arm. “Very funny. I’m parched…go fetch me some water.”

He chuckled again and nodded to her. “Anything for you.” He said, looking back the way they came. A slow trickle of individuals were coming out from the tunnel tank. With a firm squeeze of Akechi’s hands, his lips curled into a smile. “I’ll be back, alright?”

And thus he made his way past the crowd, only slowing down so as to not bump into others.

“Wow,” some of the crowd members cooed and pointed. “Look at all these pretty fish coming! Ooh, look at the jellyfish display! You think I can get a picture?”

With a shrug, Ren ignored them - overly enthusiastic fans of the aquarium. Nothing too bad. He went about over to Dolphin, the nearby restaurant, after making his way all around to the front exit. After paying for the convenience, he had to make it all the way back to halfway inside the aquarium. Luckily, the next showings wouldn’t be until much later and the way back was nowhere near as crowded.

When he made it over to the jellyfish display, he was about to turn a corner and catch Akechi, but she, suspiciously, was missing from the space she was in. At the corner of his eye, he spotted her over to the actual jellyfish display, followed by a couple blocking his view of her.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon!” The boyfriend proclaimed, scratching his hair. “Sorry we got in the way.”

Akechi only nodded and gave him a disingenuous smile. Her features still displayed a language of uncertainty to the situation she was in, only for it to be peeled over by the opposing girlfriend.

Ren paused, wanting to observe. He was just as confused as Akechi was at this moment. There was an aura around her that suggested she was relaxed - let her handle it. He didn’t want to intrude and make things worse.

“I’m like, so jealous of you girl,” She remarked, biting her lower lip, “I mean, that top is kinda lit, and you’re owning it so hard! Where’d you even get it?!”

Once more, Akechi tugged at her shirt and pursed her lips. “It’s nothing special. I’m flattered, but…”

“But it looks special on you!” The girlfriend continued the conversation and lightly shoved her boyfriend. “This guy, yeah? I wish I could own the curves you got, ‘cause damn would he --”

“Asuka-chan!” The boyfriend interjected, “You said you wanted to look at the jellyfish and now you’re throwing me under the bus!”

Out from the distance, Akechi spotted Ren, and he got closer as promised. Her eyes noticed him and softened, almost like an unspoken sigh of relief once they gleamed his presence. As he approached, Ren scooted between the pair. “Sorry.” He bowed and addressed Akechi this time. “Your water, Goromi.” He said, brushing up against her.

She took it handily and opened it immediately, taking a small sip and slightly glowering over at the two of them briefly, before softening her gaze again and gave her best smile. “If you’ll excuse the both of us. We’re leaving.”

Without mentioning it, Ren felt his hand get dragged by Akechi. “Wait!” The girl proclaimed, reaching out. The room in the aquarium suddenly had been struck by a terrible chill, and she tensed up again.

“I…um…” the girl hesitated once she realized what she was seeing. “N-never mind!”

All she did was take a look back, and even without Ren acknowledging it visually, he knew she was staring back at Asuka with predatorial eyes, bathed in bloodstains. They halted their tracks, and to confirm his suspicions, he only glanced over Akechi briefly.

He could see her trail a dotted line across the girl’s neck, a slow smirk crawling on her face as she was mentally configuring it within her head - that woman is going to die. 

But Ren, he saw it differently. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and whispered in her ear. “That’s enough, Akechi. She’s not worth it.”

And she slowly receded back, pursing her lips before nodding. She said nothing then, and continued dragging Ren all the way over to the near end of the exhibits. They passed by so many oddities - sea eels, otters sleeping, even a beluga whale exhibit for the day. The door outside creaked open as Akechi took a big swig out of the bottle and slowed down.

Her breath hitched as her eyes remained closed, remaining ever closer to Ren.  “...What even happened?” He asked.

“I don’t expect you to understand.” Akechi bit her lower lip, refusing to make eye contact. “She…” She sighed, trailing off before she shook her head disappointingly. “I know I told you that I wanted to dress like this because I felt nice today but…that couple.”

Ren got close to her, looking around to see more people coming into the aquarium. He wet his lips and got close to her ear. “...Were they ogling you?”

He didn’t need an answer. All Akechi did was quietly close herself up again, one trembling hand running up to her chest defensively. She said nothing, and it was all but confirmed, and she nodded - firmly, eyes glossing over to meet him. They spoke of a need, an affirmation of sorts.

Ren guided her visage back to him, just so they could face each other directly. “You dressed like this for yourself. Not for anybody else. That’s what matters, right?”

She scoffed and lowered her gaze again. “I’m not the one on display. The moment you went, they came up to me and just…stared. At those jellyfish. And I saw my reflection, and…that woman tugged at me the wrong way and I just…” Her hands curled together in a fist, looking ready to strike. But Ren, quicker to the punch, grazed it gently, and she softened her stance. 

“...I suppose, I should be grateful.” Akechi said, silently leaning into him as her facade faded. She straightened her jacket, and turned away from him, eyes only lingering briefly as her fingers slid to Ren’s arm, slowly departing downwards. “Let’s just go. I don’t want to think about it anymore.” 

Her hands quietly slid back down to Ren’s palm, and once more she clasped her hands with his. She gave him an extra tight squeeze, and off they went out of Shinagawa Aquarium. Ren shuffled around in his pants pockets for their next stop. A nice place for couples, somewhere they wouldn’t be bothered.

This date can be salvaged. She must be hungry, right?

Monjayaki at Tsukishima, maybe? 

He checked on the Oedo Line from their last stop. No matter what, it’d be another hour before their actual lunchtime. As they traversed back to the train station, Akechi’s pace slowed once more as she threw her bottle away, empty of water. She finally halted, just outside of the train station entrance as her eyes wandered, searching for him. “Dear…” she whispered, breath steadying. Her hands cupped his cheeks. “I’m glad I have someone like you to see me like this...don’t think I didn’t see that look in your eyes.”

He smiled back at her and slowly nestled into her palms. “Let me treat you today despite our aquarium date. You’re my wife, after all.” He chuckled. “Come on. Monjayaki’s waiting.”

Day 12

Training’s done for today. Akechi ended up watching me do my Wing Chun drills. For somebody who has absolutely no prior knowledge of it, she could surprisingly perform the movements well. Eidetic memory, she tells me. Or she could be a quick study.

We went to Protein Lovers together. Thought some fresh air would do us nicely instead of being at home all the time. When she performed the drills, I caught a look of two girls staring at me. They looked like twins, but let’s not think about that.

Sadly she pushed herself pretty badly, and that meant all eyes on her this time around. Took a few good tumbles and kept telling me she’s fine. I could tell she was hurting.

Lately, she's been very close to me. I can’t tell what’s on her mind, be it her father or…something else. I heard her screaming one night, and when I went to check, she was still asleep. Sweating, basically shaking.

It could still be me. I could’ve hallucinated those screams, even if I was sure it was her. She looked terrible the past few days. But…

Something I’ve noticed. When she wears her armor, so to speak, she can look people in the eye as they’re drained of life. But when she’s just Akechi, she can barely look at others. Hides any interest. When I’m here, she often looks at me. I’m not the best to decide but, that says something. She trusts me.

There’s a glint in her eyes whenever she’s near me that I can’t quite shake. She’s definitely warming up to me compared to before.

---------

Ren set his journal aside and slid the pen back into a safe spot, then shut his lights in his bedroom off. With a firm pat, he smoothed out the surface of the journal, denoting his own bruises on his knuckles. A little better than before, yet still notably weakened from his time away from a wooden dummy.

Moments after, he checked his phone for messages. Nobody was really looking for him, they had no reason to. Not really. Makoto was still at the hospital treating Eiko and Kayo, Akihiko and Chie were tied up with solving the ever piling mass of corpses Akechi left behind for them, and his contacts in Ohya and Iwai weren’t actively looking for him either.

However many more days of planning were needed for this, he couldn’t know quite yet. Iwai didn’t give him much to work with. They’d just have to wing it and gather information on the spot, hopefully with the right people. This wasn’t much of a plan, much less a concept - winging it would’ve yielded more results.

For the night, he wanted to relax. And with that in mind, he went to visit Akechi in her bedroom across the hall. With a mild exhale, he entered inside and knocked on the door twice to announce himself. “Coming in.”

Sitting on her bed, Akechi turned her head briefly around to acknowledge him before glancing back at the mirror she set up to check her back. She wore nothing, with her skin adorned with hints of purpled bruises laid across areas she landed earlier, covered as best as they were with pain relief patches. Loungewear for the night was on the other side, neatly set so she could wear it later.

She winced with every slight jerk of movement, sucking in air and groaning. Ren approached her, wary of her condition. One knee bent down to help elevate him to her level, and his eyes flicked around to find unattended bruises.

Akechi hissed, almost cursing herself for missing a bruise completely, quietly sliding the box of patches over to him. “I was feeling fine before washing up.”

Box in hand, Ren took a few slips out and gently traced his hands over the small of her back. Delicately, he applied one patch as best as he could to cover the severity of the bruised parts, and this seemed to be the biggest pain point for her.

“Agh!” Akechi exclaimed, flinching forwards. Normally she wouldn’t even display this towards him, and Ren knew that. Something about her over these past few days has changed her demeanor towards him. He smoothed out the patch on her back before getting up to sit with her.

“Do you want me to get some medicine, too?” Ren asked. She didn’t answer as swiftly as he’d hoped, only opting to linger.

“...No.” Akechi eventually responded. “Just be gentler.”

Giving her a soft smile, he forced a bit of laughter. “What do you think I’ve been doing all this time?” He asked, gently grazing her arm and tracing his fingers downwards. “I could be doing so much more.”

She remained silent, only pulling out another slip for Ren to apply, and turned her back to face him instead. With small affirmations, he gently applied the next relief patch, directly on her shoulder bruise. She winced still, but held her tongue.

By the time he was done, Akechi got dressed, slipping into her loungewear sweats and a gray long-sleeved shirt. With a hefty exhale, she laid back down on her bed and closed her eyes, leaning over to where Ren was. “Could you make me some miso soup?”

Even though Ren was close to laying down with her, he got off her bed and nodded. “Anything. Did you want tofu and seaweed in or…?” He responded, then asked. Akechi only shook her head - plain miso it would be. Quietly, he descended down the stairs.

Miso was easy, especially if she just wanted something to help ease her stresses after today and help feel warm and comfortable. With a pot, Ren pulled out some dashi leftover from their ramen adventures in the past, and miso paste.

With the soup stock over into a simmer, he added the paste in a ladle sieve and let it slowly dissolve over the broth. The rest of this would’ve been for tomorrow morning’s miso soup expenditures.

In time, when the broth finally heated - not into a full on boil - it was ready in less than a few minutes. He set the dashi and paste back into the fridge, and poured from the pot into a small bowl, one miso soup with nothing else in it. When he went back upstairs, Akechi rolled back up into a sitting position on her bed, legs hanging off the edges.

Gently, he had a small napkin and the bowl in his hands before handing it off to her possession, then sat down along with her once more. With one glance shifting over, Ren saw their slow but consistent path on the yacht where her planning table was. “Still two weeks away.” Ren muttered.

Akechi softly blew on the soup before taking a small sip and humming with content. “You’re more focused on this mission than even I am. Why not take a break?”

He only shook his head and glanced back at her. “If we fail then we’re not getting off. Good probability we’d both be killed.”

Akechi giggled, taking another sip. “If we do, then would it be all that bad if I died with my husband with me…?”

Before long, she took another gulp of miso and emptied its contents. “We don’t have any new plans tonight, or any approaches. If I were to surmise something, however…we are not separated into two beds.”

She handed over the bowl to Ren, whose eyes slightly widened. “I didn’t even think about that. Should I take an available chair nearby so you can get the bed?”

She giggled again, with Akechi’s fingers slowly tracing Ren’s jawline. “Adorable,” she mused, “I’m asking you to sleep with me tonight. Call it, training for the night ahead. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Uh…” Ren stammered, catching himself. He chuckled in return and slightly nodded. “...Sure?”

“Don’t get the wrong idea, sweetie.” Akechi bit her lower lip. “This is for the mission. Nothing more. How else would those two reporters be sharing quarters with each other?”

If that’s what she says, Ren thought. But he nodded. “Yeah. Of course.” He lowered his gaze over to the bowl before flicking it over to Akechi again. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to wash this.”

“And I will turn off the lights after I brush my teeth.” Akechi agreed, getting up with a small bit of struggle. She sucked in air and rolled her shoulders slowly, with Ren departing downstairs one more time to rinse the bowl out for the night.

True to their agreements, Ren laid down on the other side of her bedroom as the bathroom lights were still turned on, gentle sounds of brushing occurring behind closed doors. He tossed himself over to her side of the bed, rolling blankets up whilst depositing his phone over to the other nightstand, close to his frames. By the time the door opened, Akechi sighed and smacked her lips, then hit the lights.

She, too, inevitably sank down with Ren next to her with much struggle to it from her injuries. This time, both of them were facing each other, and Ren lightly tugged against the sheets.

The pillow's a little soft. I’ll get used to it. She wants me to be here, right?

Her cedar scented shampoo encompassed what he was smelling later, locks of hair curtaining over Akechi’s delicate face for the night before she brushed it aside. Her half of the blankets were still only covering her legs more than anything - and Ren rushed ahead to help her, lest she wince again. He covered her from her shoulders, then rested his head down once more.

“...Not a word.” Akechi hushed out, hooded eyes gazing into him. “If I catch a hand where it doesn’t belong, you’re going back.”

In response, Ren forced a smile and rolled both of his hands up, one below the pillow and one above to match. “Hands free experience.”

Slowly, she closed her eyes, letting out a big puff of air and returned to steadier breathing. “Rest well.” She muttered, rolling some of her features into the pillow.

And soon, Ren drifted off to bed as well, closing his eyes.

---------

Day 17

April 11th. Movie date. We went to see The Grating Gutsbee. Interesting movie, although most of the time…Akechi was clinging onto me. Like she was observing something. A response, maybe? Ever since I got invited to sleep with her she hasn’t been having any more nightmares. Sometimes when I wake up at night thinking about this mission, and I hear her sleeping so peacefully, it’s…

Reassuring. Really. She’s less on her guard, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t still up around me. I’m allowed to sleep next to her, but my bathroom and guest bedroom still belong to me. It’s better than nothing.

She’s been trying to introduce me to ballroom dancing. I don’t know if the masquerade will feature it, but she’s insistent. It’s really cute, seeing her be so giddy about something that isn’t killing. But sometimes, it’s different.

Sometimes I get a sly little grin, or her wandering around like she’s compulsively looking for something - prey. And sometimes I see her looking back at me like she’s glad I’m here, as a safe space for her. 

After the aquarium, she closed herself up again. But she wanted to try again for our movie date and, well. That’s a success. Until it wasn’t. Some younger boys when we were going out of the theater were staring at her in a way she didn’t like, and she almost killed them.

I had to stop her of course. 

Lately, she’s been doing more of that. Stopping. I can’t tell if it’s because my words are reaching her, or if she’s expecting me to hold her back meaningfully. Or, really…she just doesn’t want to do this anymore. The worst alternative I considered was her saving that rage for the yacht.

I mustn’t forget she’s still a serial killer. But how can I look at her every night, my palm against her warm cheek, and understand it all? I don’t condone it. I don’t much less consider it the right thing…

Is Akechi learning because she wants to, or is this another one of the many things she could use to manipulate me into doing things?

I still think it’s the former.

Day 19

Naoto called me again. She heard about how I got kicked off, and is trying her best to get me back. I told her not to rush things because I understand it wasn’t a whole consensus. Wasn’t her fault, either.

Everyone says they kind of miss me at the precinct. Aki, Chie, and sometimes Makoto if she checks in. They can’t contact me until I get reinstated, and since I insisted on maintaining a low profile, they don’t visit either. I let Naoto know things are fine, I’m just handling things as best as I can.

Suit and dress should be arriving next week, and by chance, I ended up finding a way for us to know the yacht layout with some informant feeds. Now, I just need to see it in person. There’s a notable master bedroom that’s bigger than the rest, and I’m sure that’s where Kaneshiro’s staying and the files will be.

News has finally confirmed all the bodies of Akechi’s victims. They still suspect an accomplice, completely unknown, likely another female. Noted, ‘Knifework was sloppy but consistent across the board’ and skills weren’t as sharp as The Black Mask’s. I should be flattered - they don’t think it’s me after all.

Sometimes I miss my life before this mess. I could be enjoying a nice plate of curry and a cup of coffee at Leblanc. Nice, medium roast Cuban Crystal Mountain flavor and some fruity, sweet and spicy curry…

I should invite Akechi there sometime.

---------

Day 22

Scouted Kanagawa Fishing Pier. Iwai insisted it had an O, but I think it was a mislabel. Still, Akechi and I saw it, the mega yacht out in the distance. Nobody’s reported it to official channels, and I doubt it’d matter. It doesn’t look like anybody’s interested in getting us onboard.

We can’t even get a boat in. This pier’s only reserved for dedicated fishermen - and both of us don’t look like fishermen. We were asked to leave by the nearby village.

---------

Day 25

The shopkeeper’s bell twinkled as Ren pushed the door open gently, holding onto Akechi’s hand as he guided her inwards. “Here we are.” He announced, shuttering the reinforced door behind the both of them.

As the weather was unusually warm today, Akechi opted to wear something sleeveless today in the form of a white sleeveless turtleneck sweater, and loose-fitting jeans. She brought along a small black purse with her, holding it in her hands. She took in a long inhale and pleasantly hummed. “My, what a cozy atmosphere…”

Peering into the corner, he caught Sojiro working on a plate of curry. He peeked his head out and smiled warmly before cracking his signature phrase. “Ah, you’re back.”

With a gentle nod, Ren chuckled. “Hello, Boss.” He raised his hand up and took a seat in the booths. Unusually, he saw a laptop open, but the screen was shut off. Someone else was here, and he didn’t know who. Not that it mattered - it could be some guest in the bathroom.

Akechi slid into the booth with him, eyes scanning her environment with pure curiosity. Their hands grazed each other - something that had become fairly natural with them these days - as she tilted her head closely to Ren’s shoulders. “Is this the place you inherited that curry and coffee recipe? I must confess, the scent is familiar.”

“The very same,” Ren remarked, gently squeezing her hand in exchange. “You’ll love it.”

She hummed, and gave him a soft smile. “We shall see. I’ve become quite accustomed to your take, this will be brand new to me.”

With the clack of the plate against the countertop and a few short moments after, Sojiro arrived, brushing his pinstripe apron off of any lingering residue in his grasp. “Well now…who’s this pretty lady?” He asked, stroking his chinstrap beard, his weary eyes gleaming to the both of them. “Judging by how close you two are…”

Both Ren and Akechi smiled innocently at Sojiro before Akechi giggled. “Why hello there. Guilty as charged - dear Renren is my boyfriend.”

Although he raised an eyebrow at Ren’s self-indulgent nickname, he couldn’t help but give a reaffirming hum of approval. “I think you’ve outdone yourself, Amamiya. How long has this been going on?”

Ren only pursed his lips and nodded. “Secret.”

“Keep it to yourself then. But tell me this: What can I get you?” Sojiro played along.

“My usual.” Ren said, glossing over to Akechi. “I believe before we came in, she wanted the curry, too.”

“And coffee,” Akechi interjected, "he claims this coffee is out of this world."

Sojiro nodded and smacked his lips slightly. “Any preferences for the bean type? You don’t look like a Cuban Crystal Mountain girl.”

Akechi gave him a firm headshake. “I’ll have you decide, if that’s alright?”

With a slow hum, Sojiro furrowed his eyebrows and investigated her, pondering to himself the possibilities. “I may have a special idea or two. It’ll be on the house - these are some top quality beans, and considering Ren-kun finally got himself a girlfriend…” He chuckled to himself, “I don’t see why not.”

He returned to the kitchen afterwards, just in time for Ren to overhear the bathroom door open. Slowly, the clack of high heels grew louder, until an unexpected, yet very familiar figure met him on the way back. Wearing an expensive, made-to-order professional suit, and with silver hair extending all the way past her shoulders, it was only one person in the world Tokyo came to know in a short time.

Sae Niijima.

With a soft sigh and her eyes slowly reopening, Sae took a seat back at the barstool and gently nudged the laptop’s mouse, reawakening it from its slumber. She briefly glanced at the plate of curry and coffee set aside for her, only to focus back on a newly opened case file before her.

“Niijima-san.” Ren called out, standing up and slightly towering over her. Akechi’s gaze peered out as well, scooting over to see her as well. Sae’s frame perked up and her head turned around to meet Ren halfway.

“Oh! Amamiya-kun,” Sae said, bowing slightly from her seat. “Fancy seeing you here. It seems you caught me on my extended break.”

Ren’s eyes darted over at her laptop, before glancing back at her. “This doesn’t look like a break.”

She sighed again and slammed her laptop shut. “My apologies. Sometimes I get ahead of myself and work when I should be relaxing.” She wet her lips and clasped her hands together. “How have things been?”

Just as she had asked him a question, Sae’s ever watchful gaze slid over to Akechi. Her eyes slightly widened before they focused back on Ren. He saw her shift her eyes, and Ren could only help but nod. “My girlfriend. Things have been fine. I’m living, aren’t I?”

Cautiously, Akechi scooted out of the booth and extended her hand out to greet Sae. “Hello.”

In exchange, Sae smiled warmly and took Akechi’s hand. “Hello there. Miss…?”

“Akechi.” She said, earnestly. In a brief moment, Ren’s eyes widened, but she nodded in an attempt to ease his worries. She returned Sae’s smile with one of her own, bright and warm. Pulling away from her, she bowed deeply and politely. “I’ve seen you on the news before, Miss Niijima.”

Sae lightly scoffed and nodded. “I get that a lot. It’s nice to meet you, Miss Akechi. I shouldn’t keep you two, so,” her eyes darted to her cup of coffee, “best we keep chit-chat to a minimum. I do have to get back to work soon, as well.”

“It was nice seeing you regardless.” Ren commented, sitting back down with Akechi. Once more, they waited on their food. Glancing, he saw Akechi twiddle with her fingers temporarily with her foot jumping up and down.

“It’s okay, Akechi.” Ren said. “You can trust her.”

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have said my actual name.” She chimed in, scooting closer to him. “I’m just…processing all the warmth.”

Ren warmly smiled at her and gave her a gentle squeeze on her arm. “You love it, don’t you?”

Akechi rolled her eyes and sighed. “You misunderstand. Don’t let it get to your head, dear…”

Of course she’s still putting up her guard. But I see through her.

Either way, time passed on as they huddled together, sipping in the moments in Cafe Leblanc in private. For this occasion in particular, Sojiro took his time before he came with specialty coffee for the both of them.

“Here we are. Don’t waste it, it’s Indonesian Kopi Luwak roast.” Sojiro said, setting down their mugs. Akechi was the first to taste it, followed by Ren.

When he took a sip, it was unlike any other coffee he ever tasted. Smooth, light, yet intensely flavorful with hints of honey and chocolate, and it lingered in a beautifully fluffy aftertaste. “...Wow.” Ren softly exclaimed. “Boss, that’s…that’s a lot.”

Once Akechi set her mug down, she swallowed and licked her lips. "That is quite delicious, I must admit."

“I know.” Sojiro grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hope you two lovebirds enjoy. I uh, better get going on that curry. Wakaba’s due to come soon, wants to see if she can experiment some on her spice levels.”

He chuckled to himself and nodded. “Last we tried she made the spiciness level on an atomic scale. Futaba couldn’t taste anything for days…”

He hurried along, rushing back to the kitchen. Minutes later, he came back with two piping plates of curry for both of them. “Leblanc Curry for two." The shopkeeper’s bell twinkled, as Sae departed with her purse in hand and the laptop alongside it. She already paid her bill with extra cash for tips, leaving it alongside her bill. Sojiro went along and cleaned up, leaving the two of them be.

With the first bite, Akechi savored a small spoonful of rice, mixing it well in with the curry sauce and extra meat she was given. She slowly chewed, and took some time to evaluate it. After swallowing, she said nothing - only spooning in another bite.

The anticipation was killing him, of course. Ren enjoyed every bit he could when it was freshly hot, she’d tell him all about it later. In time, he saw her slow down and simply…enjoy the moment. Between the ambience of jazz playing, the soothing scents of coffee and curry blending in with each other, on top of the gentle noises of a kitchen - sink turning on and off, pots clanging, the coffee syphon hissing, this was a time to slow down.

And by the end of it, when Ren and Akechi departed from Cafe Leblanc, they rode back home with the subway train chugging along. This entire time, she said nothing. That is, until they stopped at a station nearby Shibuya where they were scheduled to get off.

Leaning into his ear, and quietly purring in it, Ren shivered. “I think I like your curry better, sweetheart...because it’s you who made it for me.”

The only thing Ren could do was smile, as he felt a reaffirming, nigh on firm squeeze grasp at his arms, and give off a soft giggle.

April 22nd, 20XX
Day 28
Late Afternoon
Ren and Akechi’s Safehouse

Two more days. After returning home, and after a relatively extensive period to ensure their measurements weren’t incorrect by two different fashion stores - UEMATSU and Azubu, Ren was given his half of the suit whilst Akechi firmly gripped onto her dress. He had already peeked inside the contents of his bag, and it was all dark coloring with slight red accents.

Everything came according to plan - the mega yacht was scouted visually, and the both of them knew where to go in case they needed to separate temporarily, where to meet up, and where exactly would be the safest to have discussions. The security team and cameras would be the biggest hurdles.

Guesstimates from both of them incurred at least a maximum of thirty to forty people onboard, and no more than that. Anything else and maritime laws would be enacted. Should these suits be too oversized or too tight, they still had time for quick remeasurements and adjustments on the spot, same day fixtures. Both of them were instructed to wear them back at home, then come back if it didn’t fit.

In Ren’s case, he slipped into his bedroom first, followed by Akechi, who was still lingering on the staircase down below. When he did, he quietly shut the door to his guest bedroom and threw off his clothes - light jacket, white v-neck t-shirt, and jeans, until he wore nothing more than his underwear. As he was slowly fidgeting the suit out, he noted his own presence in front of the bathroom mirror.

The results of his gym-time were paying off. He looked lean again, mildly muscular. But that wasn’t his intent - he wanted to have stamina, to feel good again. That’s what mattered to him more. He had the mental acuity he once did, before the accident, before his time in the police. Before everything. And, above all else, his confidence was regained with that in mind. He smirked to himself, and trudged out a pair of cinched leather black pants and tried them on.

A little form fitting, looser at the top, necessary for the belt he was going to wear. A pair of black Oxfords would’ve completed such a formal look, and his next article of clothes came to be a charcoal gray waistcoat with black V-stripes going down the center. Its golden buttons adorned the design and he buttoned it up to the very top of his neck.

Sleeveless. Very convenient for breathability - but for practicality, this felt awkward. A black dress shirt could make it truly stand out, but would he risk wearing two shirts on top of each other and risk it?

In a weird way, this reminded him of his Shujin days wearing their white turtleneck sweaters. Only this time, it was inverted. There was still one more article of clothing back inside, and as Ren pulled it out, it revealed to him a long, black, collared tailcoat, akin to an opera conductor. Down at the bottom of the bag was a white handkerchief, perfectly fitting for the added coat pocket. Nothing he wasn’t ever used to.

As he slipped the coat on, one arm across the other, he stared over at the mirror once again. It lacked something, and he couldn’t tell what just yet. At either rate, he ended up smoothing the waistcoat down and slowly twirling around, flourishing the coat by letting it flow.

Ren stepped outside of his bedroom, letting the feeling of wearing formal attire sink in. He still had some shoes to try out, but at home, this was quite comfortable for what it was.

Over by Akechi’s bedroom, her door remained open. He wanted to see her in that dress, since she had largely kept it a secret from him as to what it was. Per his polite demeanor, he knocked twice to alert her of his presence, and she turned slightly inside the bathroom to address him.

The dress itself was an oddity in itself. Strapless, and backless, a twin pattern of black and white, more tones of white than the reverse, and an intricate set of silver chains strapped around her neck, enough that in certain light, it swapped between crimson hues and argent ones. The dress itself was highlighted with hints of gold as well, almost regal-like in appearance.

What’s more, she wore thigh high stockings, a complete first for Ren to witness, and completing the outfit were pure white long gloves she wore, its satin texture inviting him to be enticed, to be enjoyed. Though he couldn’t help but stare at how miraculously gorgeous this was, he also couldn’t help but be drawn to certain openings on the dress - its exposed back and hips, namely, swaying around as she checked herself out.

She didn’t even wear her heels that were added along. Instead, they sat idly by on the marble countertop, black exterior with a shining gold interior for her soles. By the time she finally turned her gaze to him, Akechi grinned, lightly tugging at her chest to adjust it further, and she didn’t want Ren to turn away.

This was the complete opposite of everything Akechi had ever worn prior to Ren ever knowing about her. This was a dress designed to attract attention to the masses, and she wanted to wear it. Not to expose - but to don new, completely different armor. To underestimate her, it would seem, was unwise.

And she was the most beautiful thing Ren ever witnessed, slowly encircling him once she stepped out of her bathroom. “How is it, darling…? I asked you once, would you think I look good in a dress?”

He swallowed, before nodding, feeling those silky fingers of hers graze the palm of his hands. “This dress looks absolutely stunning on you, so...”

Yes. Yes she would look so good in one.

She giggled, pressing a finger up to her lips. “They presume me to be a submissive, demure woman whose sole purpose is to act accordingly. They’ll never expect the truth to be hiding in plain sight. That, I can guarantee.”

As she rotated around him, she stopped, pressing closely up to him with her hands reaching for his neckline. Her breathing slowed and she hummed softly. Before long, a familiar sensation popped the collar to his tailcoat, flaring his neck further. “Much better. But if I had a suggestion…”

She licked her lips, and slowly nudged at his arm to lift up. He did - and she began tugging the tailcoat off. Ren’s gaze followed her every step of the way, until he wore only his waistcoat again. She slowly wrapped the tailcoat around her shoulders, letting the flaps of the sleeves encompass her in size and cover most of what the dress accentuated in her physique.

“They mustn’t know yet who I truly am. But you’re given the pleasure of knowing, my dear husband…” She smirked, tracing Ren’s jawline again. “That’s why, when we’re inside, I want you to look at me the way you always have. Never lose sight of that.”

She backed off, giving Ren a slight shiver once she departed. Akechi extended her hand out, graciously as if she were asking a gentleman for her hand to take her somewhere. Ren reached out, taking its soft and homely fingers in with him. Her gaze lowered down, furrowing slightly. She clicked her tongue and sighed. “My. I have an idea to complete this…”

She dragged him back into the bathroom, and shuffled around her own closet. Eventually, after searching the cabinets and shelves, she found it. Pulling out a pair of red gloves - the very same Ren used to drive to Shido’s hideout all that time ago, and tossed it to him. “There. Wear these.”

He obliged, slowly fitting one glove in his hand, then pulling the other one in. He began readjusting it, tugging at the wrists with his palm facing him. “Alright. I think I see the vision, too.”

“Good.” Akechi warmly smiled, grazing his bare arms with her hands. “...Are you ready for what’s to come, Detective? Or should I say…Reporter Ohya?”

Ren grinned, and they quietly walked downstairs. “Yeah. It’s time for us to put on a show…Reporter Murakami.”

---------

Day 30
Ginza Line

On the final day, in the final hours before their scheduled mega yacht event, Ren and Akechi made a quick stop outside to situate what transportation they could use to get to the fishing pier from here. The bike seemed plausible - but it would ruin their attire before they’d ever make it in time. Hiring a service in time would mean they’d be fashionably late, and this was not something both of them wanted to do.

But just as they were looking around to getting into the Meguro subway station, a highly formal looking man stopped them, and a luxurious black sedan pulled up on a nearby street. “Excuse me,” the man announced, raising his hand politely. “May I have the pleasure of knowing if you two are reporters for Maisia Newspaper?”

This is it.

Ren politely nodded, brushing his tailcoat and acknowledging the man. “You’ve got the right people.”

“May I see the black card invitation you were given?” He asked, extending his hand out. Ren patted his coat, almost forgetting where he placed it. When he did find it, something interesting occurred - the black card was vibrating gently. He didn’t even feel it underneath his clothes. Without hesitation, he handed it over to the man.

With a quick press of his black shades, the man stared deeply at the invitation. “Where’s the other one?”

…Other one?

“Ah,” Akechi grinned. “My apologies. I seemed to have misplaced it somewhere when we were visiting a friend. I’m Miss Kayo Murakami.” She smiled innocently. “If you are here to pick us up, then I presume Kaneshiro-san is waiting, and wouldn’t want us to be late, am I correct?”

The man pursed his lips and flinched at the mention of Kaneshiro, but he understood full well. With another stare at the black card, he began checking Ren out instead. “This one’s for a Miss Ichiko Ohya. You don’t look like a woman to me, sir.”

It was Ren’s turn to lie now. He smiled, scratching his head. “It’s a common misprint, people think I’m a woman with Ichiko, but I promise you…it’s Ichigo Ohya. Don’t let them tell you otherwise.”

Wetting his lips, the man nodded, and suddenly the sedan passenger doors opened up. “Get in.”

And they obliged, with Akechi stepping in first, cautiously letting her heels fall flat inside the velvety blue interior. She scooted over, allowing Ren to sit in the next passenger seat. The door automatically shut them in, and the windows - revealing another driver - dimmed for privacy as they began rolling along.

Before long, as the car moved along, the dashboard facing them propped something else out. Something none of them truly prepared for, or hoped would be coming this early.

A pair of masks for both of them.

One, directed towards Ren. Bird-like in nature, a white domino mask with black eyeliner patterns and a sharp set of lashes, meant to accentuate his eyes and their color.

But for Akechi, it was a long-nosed, vermilion colored mask, designed to fit neatly against her features. In many ways, it looked like a plague doctor’s mask with its pointed shape.

They looked at each other. Akechi only gave him an affirming smirk, and Ren grinned all the same. Soon after, they took the masks to adorn on their faces for the masquerade.

Chapter Text

Tie one loop behind tightly to ensure the mask doesn’t fall. Turn your head, face your partner. Help her tie her mask.

Soft strands of Akechi’s hair brushed aside when Ren pulled the gentle strings behind her, helping her secure her mask in place. She patiently waited for him to finish. With one final loop, Ren tied it enough that it wouldn’t slip, but wouldn’t constrain either. “There,” he whispered. “We should be fine.”

The oceanside of Chiba prefecture could be seen, and the wide expanse of the vast blue stretched on and on in the horizon once Akechi sat back and situated herself, touching the mask to feel its texture. “Remarkably conspicuous. I suppose I like it.”

“You said you wanted to be the star,” Ren agreed, grazing his hand on her exposed shoulder, “helps balance the monochrome pattern. Splash of red in the right ways.”

She huffed, then relaxed her shoulders, gently grazing the arm of his tailcoat in exchange. “I hope you watch me closely, then. As you please,” she answered back, smirking. “After all, who is to say what can happen?”

He returned the smile before clearing his throat. “Well, Kayo-san…who has the notes?”

“...I thought you would,” her tone turned sour. “Ichigo-kun, have you been drinking again? Did you forget to bring your notebook?”

Without another word, Ren only innocently smiled. He didn’t forget - but the people riding in the car wouldn’t know that. He couldn’t simply pull it out either, for he had a feeling that tonight would be an immensely long night.

---

April 26th, 20XX
Evening

The drive to the actual rural village took them an hour and a half before Ren and Akechi could arrive. The last time they were here, it was quieter. A small town filled with aquariums and live sea creatures. Today, things vastly changed. The promenade they stood upon earlier now had several boats lined up to take their guests onboard the mega yacht docked far, far into international waters.

As the car stopped in a line of other luxury sedans, Ren stepped out of the car first, just to ensure that things were in order. His eyes scanned the other attendants coming out of cars, all with equally mysterious masks adorning them. Faces etched in marble, animals in various kingdoms, there seemed to be a relatively distinct pattern to it all.

For them however, birds of prey was the theme, as he extended his hand out for Akechi to take, and she lifted herself out of the car standing tall and firmly next to him. She, too, scanned the surroundings. The guards idled in their cars first as their guests situated themselves, and suddenly, their faces were adorned with masks as well. Yokai, to be specific.

“Interesting,” She softly exclaimed, “they’re separating us by proxy.” Akechi whispered to Ren. “Did you deduce the same?”

“Almost,” Ren replied, glancing back at the other sedans pulling in. “Trying to figure out what it means.”

The next batch of guests arrived, and thus concluded the security’s idlings. Each one of them uniformly stepped out of the car. Two guards for every guest involved, regardless of number. Without another word, they followed along over to the promenade where the boats were waiting.

Like a stream, guests were loaded onto their own boat just to get to the mega yacht. Just as they were both here a few days ago, the ship itself never moved any farther out to sea. Once it was their turn, Ren and Akechi entered into the motorized boat and sat in the far back of the seats, where both security members sat in the front. They were given ample space to have privacy for one another.

And thus the boat roared onwards, one number in many in front and behind them. As it rocked against the tides, Ren counted how many there were already departing, and at least ten were involved including them. If he accounted for three people minimum per boat, then that’d be already thirty people trying to get onboard for security, but it didn’t discount if they had to pick up more guests or if others were going to arrive.

Too much math with too many variables. Ren sighed and thought back. Birds of prey, animals from various animal kingdoms, and alabaster masks. Was there something he was missing? 

The figure of the yacht’s intimidating presence fastly approached. From land, it seemed like such a tiny blip, but now? The ship felt like a hedonistic titan, its opulent ivory and gilded finishes mocking everything below it. Neon lights colored the ocean underneath to a pale white. If Ren focused deeply, past the shores and the noises of the boat, he could faintly hear chatter above the deck.

As they pulled into their own private dock, Ren took the first step onto the yacht and stumbled on his feet. He hadn’t ever been used to being on a boat, and the sudden motion sickness wasn’t doing him any favors. Once he got two solid feet on, he helped Akechi up to the dock as the guard passed through them both. “Come with me,” the guard commanded.

One guard went upstairs, and the other beckoned the two of them to follow. They were being led to the deck below. Quickly, he recalled the layout of this ship. Coming up from the private docks was a small lounge area before diving into private cabins. It was exactly as he thought it would be, down to the mahogany wooden finish and the setup being akin to a fundraiser.

Yet even in its pristine walls, white as they may be, they were stained with colors regular eyes could not parse, the stains of the harsh reality. A corruption, basking in its own hedonistic tastes. As he and Akechi entered their room, its spacious interior made itself known to them - two chairs positioned far away from each other inside, two more for the small opening outside, one small table with a matte black ornate tea set adorning its otherwise empty space, dimly lit lights, an opened door leading to their bathroom amenities…

And one king sized bed with freshly cleaned sheets, enough for two people to sleep together in. Truly, everything was accounted for. Nothing wrong with it this time, after all - Akechi was right to help keep him in her bed. If this were their first night, if they needed to stay somehow, it’d be awkward. But it wasn’t as if they intended to stay here for long.

This infiltration would not last more than two days, if they could help it. Expendable clothes were deposited in there in case they needed to stay longer - maintain the ordeal much more than they should. The guard shut the door behind them once Akechi stepped foot inside, soft carpet greeting both of them. Ren took his shoes off first, setting them aside politely.

Softly, Akechi chuckled and set her heels aside as well, then took off her mask. On a nearby nightstand, she set it down, freeing her face for the time being. All around them were shelves with clutter, meant to give the illusion of decorations. “What an illustrious place,” She said, almost mockingly. Her attention turned to the seabreeze outside, its gentle wind reminding them of where they were. She smiled, then, and took a seat down on one of the chairs. “They even gave us a balcony? How fancy.”

Her gaze flickered over to the clutter, enough for Ren to notice briefly. His eyes gleamed just the same - it’d be a perfect hiding spot for a listening device. Akechi stood up and hummed one of her signature tunes, slowly approaching him instead. “Perhaps I should freshen up and reapply my makeup. Will you assist me, Ichigo-kun?”

Emphasis on makeup, so Ren observed, denoting the makeup and vanity set running adjacent to the bed. Too much product was on there if it were for simple reporters, this wasn’t exactly a VIP guest room either, just a special spot for them to be. Once more, his eyes gleamed over and he marched to be with Akechi inside the bathroom. “Of course, Kayo-san.”

The door shut, and the both of them quietly observed any other discrepancies inside, only to find nothing. They sighed deeply and got close to one another. Ren whispered first. “How do you want to dispose of this?”

She smirked and whispered back. “Cause a scene. Make them not want to listen. Incite something. If you find anything, destroy it.”

Violence…

Why did I think anything else?

Ren was about to consider it, but he couldn’t realistically get into a fight with her in their own room immediately. They just needed a way to get close to the devices, probably knock them over, and not make it look forced. Although he was lost in thought about how to approach this, he felt a soft tug against his neckline as Akechi pulled him out of the bathroom - and his heart beat faster for it.

“Oh, dear me, Ichi…” Akechi said, voice husky. “Where do you think your hands are going…?” She giggled, slamming herself against the vanity table. She breathed heavily and eyed one of the more suspicious containers. Without thinking, she grabbed a hold of it. “What’s gotten into you?”

One perfectly fine box of makeup got tossed out of the balcony shortly afterwards. Akechi’s eyes immediately glanced over to the bookshelf, and it was Ren’s turn to say something - maintain the illusion.

Without missing a beat, he grinned and indicated he wanted to push Akechi in that direction. She obliged, grinning alongside him. “You should’ve seen this coming by now, Kayo-san? I can’t help but be enamored by you in this dress, after all.” Ren said, playing along. “I’d love to see everything underneath…”

The bookshelf shook violently as Akechi backed up into it and Ren gently approached not too long after, blocking her from moving anywhere except within his grasp. Quickly, Ren scanned anything that felt like it was out of the ordinary, and of the most obvious ones, the largest silver-coated vase, was it. Everything else was more mundane fitting, the silver-coating seemed too ornate. 

He took a grab of it and effectively slammed it onto the floor, loosening the listening device that was embedded somewhere inside on a flimsy set of coverings. Ren stepped on it, immediately cracking the device under his heel even past his socks, and the device snapped underneath.

She took advantage of it. With several heavy stomps, Akechi pretended to fall onto the ground. Her eyes shot immediately down the vanity table - the easiest, perhaps most glaringly obvious device, always planted beneath. She breathed heavily before letting out a satisfied sigh. “On the floor…? How crass.”

Snatching the device, she crushed it easily in her hands. After long moments of silence, she breathed a sigh of relief. “...Finally.” Head craned slightly down, she promptly went to investigate further. Soon after, she tossed the vase out of the balcony as well, small debris flinging along with it. Ren sat on the bed afterwards, wiping his socks clean.

For extra measure, Ren investigated any potential shelves that could have even more hidden contents - and he found a very compromising box…one that made him flush slightly before he pushed the cubby back in, and pretended he didn’t see it. Out of sight, out of mind.

No way in hell a listening device was in there alright. He cleared his throat and sniffled. “Looks like we’re clear,” he said meekly, muttering to himself. “Yeah…yeah.”

“I have my doubts an incident like this would be worthy of an investigation,” she said, brushing her monochrome masquerade dress, “nevertheless, spying on supposed reporters to ensure they don’t leak confidential information is quite concerning.”

“Should’ve warned me about the play.” Ren chuckled, scratching his fluffy hair to regain his composure. “We’re still hours away from anything.”

“Correct.” Akechi remarked, sitting down with him on the opposite end of the bed. “It’s better to pull back and observe for the time being. If we can find that man…”

Her lips quirked into a feigned smile - all one too familiar for Ren. But not this time. Not here, not onboard with so many public figures. With a gesture from his crimson clad hand, Ren disagreed. “Don’t forget the last time we rushed into things.”

Her smile faded and she sighed, deeply. “How boring. Fine…we’ll do it your way. For real, this time. But first…” She tugged at his arm, urging him to rise. “Makeup.”

With no outside help, and no real actual playbook for what could unfold here, the only thing they could do was don a guise amidst this party. Enjoy it while it lasts, and of course, gather information and observe.

Being bloodless was something he’d been prepping Akechi to do for a while, and she seemed very receptive to the fact. Especially, here and now, where she was most vulnerable, most prone to getting stared at. But they could use that to their advantage.

Thus, makeup it was. She helped him back to the bathroom, stealing whatever was applicable for her tastes - so long as it was light. Akechi grabbed a brush, and over time, casually applied what she could, tailing lines of her eyes to accentuate her piercing gaze further. Gentle bit of lipstick to make the reds pop out.

Softly, she pursed her lips together and perked back up, smiling seductively as Ren was relatively here for moral support. “If it’s for them, I don’t mind how this looks.” She commented, slightly twirling around. Her eyes gleamed over him playfully. “Tell me I’m pretty?”

All Ren could do was tilt his head and hum to himself softly. “Do I have to say something you already know?” 

Although it was her request, Ren remained silent as he met her eyes in the mirror. She turned back, letting her bangs fall down to cover a part of her gaze. “If you want to live, of course,” she continued teasing, alongside chuckling as she parted locks of her hair behind her ears. “You truly are a scoundrel.”

Their mission came first, and if applying something to make her assume the guise of a hyperfemme and demure type of woman was her way of getting another mask in play, so be it. He smirked and chuckled along with her. ‘You are drop dead gorgeous.’ was all he could mouth in silence, feeling a slight chill run down his spine once he finished.

Without much else to discuss, Akechi knew what was to happen next - both of them going up to the party, as somebody else, and then collecting intelligence. If they could help it, finding out and timing Kaneshiro’s whereabouts when security was weakest would help get them off this boat faster.

For Iwai’s sake, after all…

Ren took the time to steal a quick glance from her. He tugged at the sleeves of his tailcoat, almost ready to take it off. Akechi caught on quickly, stopping him from ever moving a mere inch.

“Later,” she reaffirmed. “I want them to see me.” With a small flick of her wrists, she smoothly glided her arm around Ren, matching his jawline again with a soft roll of her finger. “A small taste.”

Although he wanted to object, this was her choice and decision. He’d stand by it, and with a soft nod alongside a curl of his lips, Ren rolled his sleeve back down. They both donned their masks again from their respective nightstands, having secured a foothold on the yacht, put their shoes back on, and walked out, hand in hand.

April 26th, 20XX
Evening
Mega Yacht “The Golden Hour”

Ascending up the stairs with the etiquette he had long practiced, Ren elegantly guided Akechi upwards towards the main source of the party above the cabin decks. Their rough estimates of attendance was, unfortunately, miscalculated beyond belief. Even liberal guesses were far beyond the actual reach of this party.

Thirty to forty? In a morally correct world that’d be alright, Ren thought as he scanned the environment, mask protecting his anonymity. Along the way, they managed to scan the name of this yacht. ‘The Golden Hour’, as it was to be named. It was plastered along one of the bearings of the walls on their way out, something they both hadn’t noticed the first time. Once Akechi reached the floor with him, it was almost as if the entire stage they were on fell silent, and a magnetic pull began to descend upon them.

All eyes were on her, with the red beaked mask. In particular, most of the men and even certain interested subsections of women were interested in Akechi. Whispers followed not too long after, with Ren picking up certain aspects of it. 

Who was she? Who invited her here? Is she with someone? Why that mask in particular? Was she a rare bird, perhaps?

It was then that he realized what Akechi had meant on the ride here. They truly were the only birds of prey, and everybody else were either animals, statues, or, as they both discovered at the last minute, masks of various yokai. If he had to guess, the masks displaying Greco-Roman statues meant they were a sign of the high elite, and nobody he could ever discern in the crowd. The animals however, were flocks of how the hosts viewed them.

Sheep. Livestock. Exotic pets.

Anything but human, not even a commodity.

And as for the yokai, there was only one obvious answer, given he saw a brief flash of a distinct back tattoo exposed from the necks of one of them.

Criminals within the yakuza. 

His muscles remained taut as Akechi separated from him, all eyes gleaming over her as he was left behind, a perfect opportunity to slip away and do his own duties. Her eyes glossed over to his one last time, smirking in his direction, as Ren perceived it and promptly moved away towards the outer mezzanine.

His thoughts raced, noting her red lips and how smoothly she was gliding, just how practiced it all was to blend in. More akin to a wolf in sheep’s clothing, meant to disarm and dismiss any pretense of her being anything more than what she presented herself to be.

For the average partygoer, she was nothing more than a stunningly beautiful woman in a plague doctor’s aesthetic red mask. Prim, proper. A little haughty, perhaps, yet nothing less than defenseless against those who wished to view her as an object.

For him, however, he knew that was the full intention. Nobody truly knew Akechi was the most dangerous individual onboard this ship hiding in plain sight. If she pleased, she could make this a bloodbath all on her own, because she never truly belonged in the echelons of the elites - and that anonymity that protected her was her armor.

Put it short, her femininity was simply another loaded weapon, concealed under a bouquet of flowers. She wanted people to look at her as lesser. Conformist. Blissfully ignorant. This, for her, was effectively spitting on society as a whole.

Laughter upon laughter ensued upon their departure. Drinks poured, glasses clinked together shortly afterwards. The scent of alcohol began permeating in the air, followed by indulgence of other unnecessary vices. 

A waiter briefly passed by Ren as he stood around, extending the tray in their hand out for his sake - one to grab a sample of wine. He had to take one, and he gently toasted them for doing so. Once he stepped far back out, bumping into the unused jacuzzi, his eyes scanned the upper horizon. Several guards were posted on the staircases up to the very top floor.

Judging by his memory, the big bedroom would likely be on top of there. But what of their escape route? That would have to come one step at a time, as his eyes steadied back down to the ground floor he was on, once again catching glimpses of her graceful presence.

All he could have thought this time was how far and away a month had become for Akechi, to trust and be trusted in that she could handle this level of attention whilst simultaneously controlling the narrative, teasing him by making him look at her, too.

Because for Ren…

He simply could not take his eyes off of her, watching her with such grace, entrancing patrons. This was by her request after all, just to see her charming side, the one practiced mask she could feasibly demonstrate. It was all effortless, witnessing such a spectacle. Every so often, they’d be stealing glances at each other from across the yacht, something Akechi was very much aware of, and so did he.

“It’s vulgar, I tell you,” One of the masked men said, walking past Ren, his voice laced with arrogance. “That young Kasukabe fellow truly believes he can be Prime Minister. Pfft, does he not know his father hardly controls the money flow around here?”

“Truly,” The voice of a refined woman agreed, chuckling along as they stopped near his presence. “And what of the rumors? I heard he was seen in a cafe with a crippled girl. One who got pushed onto the train tracks. What would the public say if word got out?”

He moved along, quietly sipping wine bit by bit, absorbing the ambience. People lounged about, drinking both cold refreshments and whatever the evening sun could provide, and here he was, unfocused on everything but her.

She’s enjoying this way too much. 

Ren gave it some thought, noting a glint in her eyes he hadn’t seen in such a long time. Though the patrons onboard were fully comfortable with her around, he could see it - the same glint predators have when they play with their food.

Despite that, Akechi maintained something resembling refined elegance from afar, even down to her body language - gentle touches on her chest to indicate heartfelt arrangements, a smile that was laced in poisoned honey and honest deceptions.

He had to keep moving, and Ren approached another group, much larger in gathering - and before he could get closer to center on their topic, out of the corner of his eye, Ren saw another oddly familiar woman approaching from below the private dock.

It can’t be…

His eyes flickered at the sight, almost turning away - his body was reacting.

…could it?

Forcibly, his gaze shifted over, meeting the figure wearing a beautifully flowing, two-toned, dark blue and black evening gown and another, non-generic mask for the night, a Venetian-like, dark iron mask meant to cover her upper face. But the way her short, brown haired bob and the signature braided headband she often wore, there was no mistaking it.

Makoto was also onboard, and Ren suddenly hid from her gaze, diving straight to the bar nearby to avoid attention. Thankfully, she wasn’t headed his way, instead going in the opposite direction.

Here? But how?

No…no, no, she’s not supposed to be here…

He pondered, awkwardly catching the bartender squinting at him before he turned around, leaning up against the dive bar. Rubbing his chin, he began considering the possibilities.

There were two black cards, and Ren only took one. That means, Makoto took the other on Kayo’s behalf. If Ohya was given the card, and Ren was now in possession of it instead, it was why that security guard asked them for the secondary one, and yet somehow they were going to let it slide simply because Kaneshiro’s name was uttered. 

If he figured anything about Makoto’s detective intuitions, she was assuming the moniker of Kayo Murakami as well as Akechi. As a direct result, there were two Kayo Murakamis onboard, something security, as sparse as they were against the possible one hundred and fifty residents and more coming onboard, could not account for on their own team.

Shit.

This…isn’t good.

Without thinking it, Ren downed his wine to steady his nerves, gaze staring back at the countertop before him, then over to where Akechi should be - and she, surprisingly, had a glass of champagne in hand as she was talking to other ladies.

He’d just have to be much more careful, and not run into her or allow Makoto anywhere near either him or Akechi. With one quick glance over, he saw Makoto was making it to the other side of the deck, leaning over by her lonesome, no doubt pondering what she’d be even looking for on this end, too.

It was his chance - find a group to blend in, hope Makoto doesn’t see him, and once he could at least gather some information, go get Akechi. Move somewhere else.

He left the bar temporarily, exchanging one wine glass with another smoothly, and before Ren could set his sights on a nearby group, a helicopter swiftly flew over the distance and onto the yacht’s helipad. 

His eyes gleamed Makoto’s presence once again. She wasn’t alerted of his presence, being focused on the helicopter, thank god. But they both observed, as the party ambience halted once more. He took it as an opportunity to get closer to Akechi while their attention was diverted elsewhere.

If these two never meet, it’ll be too soon.

Once he hovered over to Akechi, she took note of him and quietly slid her gloved fingers over his own gloved hands. The helicopter idled, letting the patrons move out of the way before descending down. Exiting the cabin first, a pair of men wearing the Greco-Roman masks with fancy blue business suits, then another pair with the classic yokai masks, both a red oni and a blue tengu mask. 

They weren’t much in the mood for a party - yet they still dressed for the occasion as best as they could, albeit without the pretense of it being formal. They left their work shirts at home, it seemed, for they were both shirtless with momentary flickers of their own tattoos exposing themselves in the breeze.

Those weren’t the most interesting people to step out. The last person who came out of the helicopter was a tall and intimidating man, wearing a freshly clean white suit and black work shirt. He alone had no mask, only dark shades to cover his features. With brown slicked back hair, both Akechi and Ren knew who that was who just stepped out, the one and only Junya Kaneshiro.

Much akin to how Akechi stalled the party, Kaneshiro himself did the same thing. People backed off and started whispering indistinctly. He obviously paid no mind to anybody else, only briefly gleaming around before scoffing. Tons of security rushed to his aid, almost as if everybody else wasn’t nearly as important as he was.

And it was true, to an extent. From where both of them were standing, Ren could see the two business-like individuals get spoken to. If he had to guess, they were high-ranking politicians.

He felt Akechi’s grasp tug at him further until they both snuck away, and his eyes found their way back over to Makoto, who was too preoccupied trying to get closer to Kaneshiro.

He felt a bit of sweat drip down as she was here - but it didn’t look like she knew Ren was here. He shouldn’t be here, he was off the case. By legality’s sake this was grounds for absolute firing if she ever found out.

Past the bar, several denizens continued on with the masquerade as Ren and Akechi exited slowly off to the side. She turned around, still holding her champagne glass. “You truly cannot stay away from me, can you, sweetie?” Akechi teased, feeling Ren’s hand in hers. “Tell me, what have you found?”

Casually, Ren kept close within her space, almost as if they were huddled together. Most others were too busy with the festivities to notice them either way, and he leaned into her ear. “Makoto’s onboard.”

“Is that so…?” Akechi’s eyes flickered with amusement. “Your work-wife?” She giggled as usual, turning her attention back. She saw Makoto then and there, then flicked her gaze back to Ren. “I can’t imagine why.” She said, brushing her figure closer to him.

She gave his collar one possessive tug. “How eager you must be to whisk me away.” Akechi said, her tone once more laced in teasing him, low and husky. They began heading towards the upper decks, Ren leading the way. Briefly, both of their gazes turned back over to Kaneshiro and company - they were moving inwards, and Ren could witness Kaneshiro whisper something to the closest man in the Greco-Roman mask. For sure, that was a politician then.

As they headed up, Akechi continued chuckling to herself. Her presence remained close, voice hushed in his ears so intimately. “My charming prince, taking me away like a hidden secret he can’t hide any longer! What’s the rush, dear?”

He wasn’t listening as intently as he should, and thus he pulled Akechi in, pushing her up against another wall. “And what’s gotten my wife so worked up? You’re awfully clingy.”

“Hmm,” Akechi hummed, tracing his jawline sweetly. “I don’t like sharing. You must understand.”

Another pair of footsteps slowly made landfall over the stairs, and Ren checked it out again. Sure enough, Makoto was headed upstairs. Of all times he wished his partner wouldn’t follow him, this would be it. But even she felt unaware of the fact he, and The Black Mask serial killer, were onboard together.

Makoto still doesn’t need to know. Without letting another second pass, Ren took Akechi’s hand again and moved inside on the upper area, the main hall where guests were drinking their fill of liquor and chatting about, out of an open room filled with others  “I’ll apologize later for what I’m about to do.” He muttered.

Before long, Ren pushed Akechi up against a wall, one arm wrapped behind her. Their bodies pressed up against one another while his eyes remained focused on one of the glass panes.

“Oh my,” Akechi cooed softly, feeling her bare back pressed up against the cold ship alongside Ren’s warm arm around her waist. “Aren’t you so bold…?” 

Makoto came up, turned the corner, and continued on with her business while Ren maintained his focus on wondering if she could see him. She didn’t even see the both of them, and with a sigh of relief, he backed off, tugging Akechi along, smiling. “She’s moved on.” He said, only then realizing Akechi was gazing deeply at him.

“That wasn’t necessary, you know.” Akechi said, maintaining her genuine smirk towards him. “I question what’s gotten into you for this particular mission? Is it the mask, or…” She leaned in, brushing the red-beaked mask past Ren’s shoulder and into his ear. Her voice ran husky again. Sensual, inviting. “Perhaps you wish for only your eyes to gaze upon this sight…?”

“Maybe I just wanted you to focus on me this time around.” Ren offered as a retort, smirking. “Or, I just wanted to see you again.”

She inclined her head upwards and hummed pleasantly, running her gloved fingers against his gray waistcoat. “How cute. You’re jealous of others laying their eyes on me.” Akechi said, just before pushing him off herself. “That Niijima sibling does throw quite the wrench in our plans…I question how she managed to get here.”

Ren straightened his waistcoat out, brushing his tailcoat off as he followed Akechi out of the open air bar. Quickly, he checked behind him to ensure they weren’t followed. Between two seas, they returned back underneath the mezzanine, wine and champagne glass clinking together. Just like nothing happened.

“You failed to account for something, didn’t you?” Akechi asked, turning around so her back was against the railing. Her arms remained crossed once Ren approached, leaning his arms out against it instead. Instead of answering outright, he pursed his lips and frowned. A part of him wanted to shake his head, but the truth was undeniable.

After a few moments, he glanced back up to Akechi. “Kayo Murakami likely gave her the other invitation. That’s my fault.”

She could only exhale softly and shut her eyes. “Even as we stick to the plan, our namesake together dooms us.” With the click of her tongue, Akechi shook her head. “Well, not that it matters any. Our target has decided to reveal themselves.”

Ren did his diligence and turned around so he could at the very least meet her halfway. “Security’s not here for any one of us,” he answered her, crossing his arms all the same. “They’re here to keep Kaneshiro happy. But if you mention his name, they get spooked.”

“What gave you that idea?” Akechi asked, sipping a bit of champagne, admiring the view of the crowd before hesitating. “Actually, that would not surprise me in the slightest.”

Ren proceeded to do the same, sampling the clear, sparkling yellow liquor in his glass. “Two guards for us. More than five times that for him upon arrival. Pretty easy to spot why I can see it that way.”

“As they say, every tool exists to be used, and these elites look very worn,” Akechi remarked, carelessly throwing the glass out from the side of the ship. Nobody was going to miss that glass anyway. She sucked air in and glanced over to Ren. “I hope you came prepared with questions for him, Ichigo-kun…finding alone time with a man such as Kaneshiro won’t be easy.”

Hopefully not with murdering our way in…

Ren licked his lips and set his glass to the side, witnessing a small group of yakuza members walk past him. Some gave him stern looks on the way in, yet they said nothing. Both of them barely acknowledged it as they glared back at each other instead, shrugging.

“What about you? You had so many people come up and talk to you. What did you find?” He asked, and she smacked her lips in response, smirking.

“There’s no easy way up from where we are. We can’t pretend to be waiters, or anything else aside from reporters.” Akechi adjusted her mask and then began crossing her arms. “Removing the guards from the equation would be the easiest route, followed by them miraculously believing we truly carry the journalistic integrity we intend.”

“...Killing as a last resort.” Ren reaffirmed, shaking his head. “Let’s not have a repeat of the brothel. Please.”

It only made Akechi laugh, almost forcibly so. “Are you telling me what to do? I’m merely in jest, dear…if the guards won’t allow us ample time for an interview, I highly suggest we resort to other methods to get answers.” She flashed him a quick grin, just before extending her hand out, softly beckoning Ren to assert himself into taking it.  “In the meantime, how about we observe guard routines and plan accordingly? Surely Detective Amamiya has more than one formulated plan for this night.”

And she was right. Ren nodded, taking one more glance over to the party size, and took Akechi’s hand once more. Time was wasting, and if they were going to stay overnight, they likely won’t see the morning.

Ivory walls and golden chandeliers hung on the interior leading inside, its eminent glow maintaining a delicate appearance with patrons surrounding the mega yacht’s overbearing standards. A hundred and fifty people here was no easy thing to maintain, but considering everybody on board, maritime law couldn’t apply to the very lawmakers here.

As Ren and Akechi descended, moving past others under their own masqueraded guises, the stench of booze and other self-indulgence reeked, assaulting their senses. What was supposed to be a pristine and exquisite experience, just as every little thing corruption touches, turned to disgusting filth.

Quite frankly, mega yachts were an excessive consumption waste. Having an onboard salon, movie theater, sauna, so on and so forth, all of it was filled to the brim with people lounging around, and even enjoying themselves as they waited for the true main event for tonight - not like they’d stay to listen.

To make matters worse, Makoto being here upended most of their plans. Even when they didn’t expect her to be here, they actively attempted to avoid her as best as they could. No matter where they went, she always was conveniently within the same close parameters of their presence, or just within reach.

Each step, each little bit of information gathering, they had to disrupt. Whenever Ren caught sight of that dark blue gown, he’d closely drag Akechi elsewhere, thereby screwing up their meticulous routing. The farther they went in the yacht, the heavier the security, and how much of a presence gangsters were.

It was no surprise seeing a variety of yokai masks meet up with their own, often glancing at them in a way that was meant to ward them off from advancing. This had to let up at some point - even common thugs needed rest around here, surrounded by indulgence. When they got close to the yacht’s engine room on the lower decks, only then did they find increased security here.

But it presented a good opportunity for Ren and Akechi to make plans to get past that somehow. Jet skis, emergency life rafts, whatever they needed to escape would also be here. Navigating this felt worse off for how terribly compact everything was.

This wasn’t a cruise ship. There were no swimming pools, a dining hall with multiple floors, or even other amenities - yachts were meant to be private, no public affairs were to be held here. This was meant to house, in total, thirty to forty people at the most, and even that was pushing the utter peak of commodification. Quadrupling, almost quintupling? That was asking for a fire hazard from how hot things were already inside. Even with proper air conditioning, this place wasn’t designed to carry more people than intended.

Did high society care? Not really. All of this, and understanding guard routes wasn’t going to get them to the top of the master bedroom overlooking it all atop the yacht. Was Kaneshiro truly impenetrable as an individual? Did he indulge in no vices of his own, enabling a way to sneak up? Especially not one where either one of them would compromise themselves?

The answer, as it turned out, was a horrible yes. Ren and Akechi attempted to climb aboard to the very top, where security guards were stationed wearing their yokai masks. “Hey.” One of them called out. “Nobody allowed past this point. Get back downstairs, enjoy the party. Nothin’ to see here.”

“Ah,” Ren smiled. “We’re with Maisia Newspaper! I believe your boss is expecting us for tonight, and we wanted to find a place to set up --”

“Get lost.” One of the other guardsmen interjected, crossing their arms. “He’s busy, and ain’t lookin’ to talk to journos right now.”

Akechi’s features brightened up as she stepped forward, posturing in a way that was also practiced from before. Her shoulders straightened up, and she assumed a relatively meek stance. “Would you perhaps know when he’d be available? We really came all this way to meet him!” She said, her voice pitched higher than normal. “Or perhaps, would it be preferable he keep us for another day or two?”

Despite how demure she seemed, the guards never once let their defenses down. They only groaned and shook their heads. “Look, I’m sure you two are itchin’ to go, but he’s indisposed. Check back later tonight with the afterparty or some shit.”

A small crack in their defense was all Akechi seemingly needed. She retained a purely innocent, bright smile as Ren stood by her side, wrapping her arms around him. “No, that’s okay! We just wanted to know. In fact, I just remembered - we need to grab our cameras in our room anyway. We’ll be back!” She responded, completely chipper. With a forceful tug, she gestured Ren back downstairs. “Let’s go, Ichi-kun! Mister Kaneshiro will have to wait tonight for us.”

For a moment, the guards tensed up and looked at each other, and a part of Akechi’s posturing changed. She gave Ren a knowing smirk, not enough for them to catch on.

Clearing his throat, Ren changed his tone and spoke sharply. “Ah, right you are, Kayo-san.” He turned around, pointing defiantly against the guards. “We’ll be back, just you wait!” He said, and descended back downstairs. Once the coast was clear, he only briefly glanced towards the guardsmen who seemed less than interested in gatekeeping, and resumed focus back on Akechi. “No dice.”

“Ah,” Akechi chuckled, wagging her finger, “you’ve missed an integral moment. They’re weak. They act tough, but as soon as they’re given the first sign of trouble, they’ll balk.” Her grasp on his arms tightened ever so slightly. “I surmise they’ll back down if we persist. Wouldn’t you agree?”

He couldn’t answer. As if on cue, he saw Makoto once again and pushed Akechi to the side, towards an empty gathering where nobody else would be. His partner was heading up the stairs as well, and if they were the only ones spotted here, he knew she’d be asking if they were allowed upstairs.

He had to come up with a ploy to make Makoto look away. His eyes shifted over to her briefly, and she was preoccupied getting up the stairs. Then, he took his attention over to Akechi, who softly huffed and inclined her head with curiosity as well.

“How will you get out of this one, I wonder…?” She goaded, as Ren swallowed and felt a small bead of sweat drip down.

A thought passed by him, completely blindsiding any rational sensibilities he could’ve had. Call it foolish, completely insane - but desperation called for it, even if it could be faked. If there’s one thing he could use to his advantage, it was the woman right in front of him.

Ren wrapped his arm around Akechi’s waist, and with his other free hand, slid her beaked mask up, revealing her full face. He, too, pulled his own mask out of the way. “You said it yourself. Make them uncomfortable by causing a scene. You can kill me later.”

Forgive me.

Before Akechi could even catch up to his plan, Ren moved dangerously close to her, forcing her into an angled lean against the hull. He pressed his face up close to hers, almost like they were about to kiss, and placed his hand on her chin to sell it further. What was most dangerous to him in this moment, above everything else, wasn’t the fact Akechi was caught off-guard by this incredibly risky plan.

Rather, it was the fact she was pressed up against him. Any further movement from the two and they would’ve incited a genuinely true kiss with one another, and one Ren did not intend to cash out at this very moment in time without her prior knowledge of doing so. With any luck, this would look something similar to a couple sneaking away from the crowd for an intimate moment together.

To help sell it even further, Akechi softly gasped at his efforts, spinning it further as she moaned, closing her eyes with her own arms wrapped around him, akin to if she were to claim ownership over his body and spirit, whilst Ren kept his eyes wide open and aware of every little thing happening. He could hear the soft clacking of heels against the stairwell as Makoto came up, and then it stopped.

“O-oh...” Makoto softly muttered to herself, stammering, having made note of the two of them. “Well, pardon me then…” She concluded, heading further upstairs. Once her presence dissipated, Akechi’s eyes fluttered open softly and she made eye contact with the stairwell, then glossed over to Ren’s attention.

“...Is she gone?” Ren whispered, pulling back out briefly, just enough that they weren’t so intimately close. “Please tell me she’s gone.”

“You’re quite something, darling...” Akechi mused, lightly smacking Ren’s cheek. Maybe it was the light reflecting, but he could’ve sworn he saw a bit of her cheeks flush in exchange. “Perhaps I’ve misjudged how jealous you can truly be,” she said.

Thus, they broke apart from their intimacy, with Akechi looking back down from the mezzanine area, then at the sunset occurring in the distance. Seagulls cried out, and the gentle breeze reminded them still - they were far out at sea, and even farther away from land, let alone the mainland. This moment should be savored as the only upside. “It was just getting started.” Akechi muttered, eyes drooping back down.

In exchange, Ren came up from behind her and leaned against the rail as well, drinking in the last remnants of the sunset. “Disappointed? That’s new.” He teased, tilting his head. “But you didn’t want to kiss me before.”

She only softly glanced by his features and pursed her lips, lightly groaning from his tease. Nevertheless, she digressed. This was neither the time, nor the place. “We can’t make a move until tonight. I’d prefer it if things could progress a little faster, but…we have no option. The only winning strategy is not to play, at least for now.”

And not to cause an even bigger scene that we’re going to come to regret, Ren thought.

He  pushed his mask back down and wiped his brow. “I’ll strategize more, then, check the engine room, see if we can find a fault, and a back entrance. Anything to help bypass this.”

He saw Akechi’s shoulders slacken as she tapped the guardrails with her palms. “There’s nothing more to gain from overpreparation here, so I’ll retire and conserve energy. Do let me know if we’re truly out of options, because if we are…” She curled her hand into a fist and giggled. “There’s a much more fun way of handling it.”

“And here I thought you liked a challenge,” Ren said, his smile creeping along. “I won’t take too long. How about a favor?” He asked, noting Akechi sliding her beaked mask back down. “Talk to more people and see what else comes out of it.”

“Tch,” she scoffed disappointingly, “you’re asking I go dig through trash in hopes that scum can produce anything resembling treasure.” Her smile faded briefly, although, upon reflection, she placed her index finger across her lips and hummed. “Fine, then. I’ll let you humor me with your plan a little further…in exchange, you’re coming with me after you scout out whatever else.”

Once more, they went their separate ways with Akechi heading downstairs, and Ren hesitating briefly. He trudged upstairs to the top floor, just enough to overhear Makoto speaking. It was indistinct, but the guardsmen above were telling her the same story in the same drab and unfeeling tone they consistently had.

When the coast was clear, Ren headed downstairs into the lion’s den. Amidst the sounds of the party, the atmosphere of conspiratorial motions, and outright the display of insincerity, he had his doubts on how else to proceed.

If Iwai could trust two journalists to pull off what Ren and Akechi were to do, then he had immense faith for someone out of their depth. Yet still, a part of him liked those odds, same as before back at the brothel. Only this time, he had his guarantees, and a surprising lack of chaos. A plan is a plan, even if variables change.

Whilst Makoto was still preoccupied, trying unsuccessfully to get access to the master bedroom, Ren went below deck and made note of everything there was to be found. The boats they came to this mega yacht weren’t here, and the docks were perhaps the least guarded at the moment - and even this became a great advantage. If they could sneak something here, it’d be the easiest route out.

Next, most people were either above the main deck or in the interior zones minding their own business as the main event for tonight was fastly approaching. It would mean they’d likely be gathering near the biggest, most open spots. Perfect time for him to sneak in and find the evidence they needed.

Back on the main deck, Ren scanned his environment again and all of the partygoers. None of them paid him much mind in comparison to everyone else. He was, after all, one bird of prey out of two, with the other entertaining guests as naturally as she could above him.

As promised, Ren ascended to her level, and the atmosphere wasn’t anything he quite imagined. He had felt a sense of warmth moments prior to his climb up, but as soon as he came closer to Akechi, there was a visceral sense of cold biting at the air.

It was then he heard it: the partygoers laughing mockingly at whatever conversation topic came up. “That detective is such a stickler for doing what’s right. Does he understand the role?”

Another laugh erupted as Ren slipped quietly to Akechi’s side. With a quick examination, he saw that she was holding onto a glass of wine, perhaps a little too tightly. His attention turned to her, reading her body language. Her eyes were bulging out not in surprise, but in exasperation. There was a tenseness in the way she stood - firm, unmoving.

He stayed and listened. Another familiar voice popped up. “Be of good service and loyal to a fault. That’s why I kicked him to the curb.” An older gentleman said proudly, raising his glass. “And he believes it’s because of his conduct!”

The voice belonged to none other than the SIU Director. Indirectly, and thankfully, his back was turned whilst Ren stared.

They were talking about him as he pursed his lips. It was the least of their concerns that he was right here to hear it. Instead, his eyes gleamed over Akechi’s figure again. If he had known a thing or two about how she reacted, all the way back to their reunion after a month and how nobody, excluding her, was allowed to speak ill of him.

And he’d be proven right. Although the glass of wine was mostly empty, she let it go. Whatever remained spilled helplessly on the floor, staining the otherwise pristine deck. Miraculously, that wine did not splash on her nor her dress, only a brief spillover that stained her palm upon dropping.

Rivulets dripped down her palm as the party ambience silenced itself, and Ren couldn’t tell if it was the red wine or blood from her palm. They all shot Akechi a dirty look for disrupting the mood. “The hell’s your problem, girl?” One partygoer asked. She didn’t even deign a glance in their direction. She said nothing. They only sneered, and scoffed. “Little kitty cat’s got her tongue.”

From the countertop, Akechi proceeded to grab silverware. A sharpened knife, to be precise, ready to have been sent out for somebody’s evening dinner steak. 

“You dare to insult him…?” She lightly mouthed, only enough for Ren to catch the attention of it. Everybody else seemed preoccupied by the fact she might be bleeding. Nothing more than a heavy glower was laid upon them all, hidden behind various masks in this faceless crowd. Ren knew what would happen - he’d have to intervene.

Yet, as soon as he raised his hand to help lower Akechi’s own, the most unexpected moment occurred. Instead of lashing out, she simply smiled, maintaining the facade of innocence. A fake bit of laughter and smile curled onto her lips as she pointed the knife at the closest individual, the SIU Director. “My apologies. I was so awestruck by the provocation that I forgot what I came here for. If you’ll excuse me,” she remarked, slipping the knife fluidly down to conceal it, “I must get back to my evening meal.”

From there, she retreated, swiftly moving away from the crowd. Ren followed wordlessly, until they came back to some privacy. He noted her glove, and the fact that what he was seeing was more than likely what he feared.

“Are you bleeding?” He pointed at her palm, asking. Ren attempted to reach over to her hand. In exchange, she showed it to him. The glove was perfectly intact, truly revealing she wasn’t injured. She smirked and coyly hummed.

“I was really hoping to sell it with an injury. I’ll count myself lucky I didn’t smash it in my hands for dramatic effect.” Akechi remarked coolly, yet nevertheless pulled the stained glove off sensually by gripping one of the fingers with her teeth, slipping it off slowly. “How can you not feel anything but disgust from these…creatures?” She remarked, slapping the contents of the wine out from her glove.

Ren exhaled and took a hold of her glove for her, pocketing it. “What makes you think I don’t?” He clung closely to her in order to help triple check there were no injuries. “I try not to let it get to me.”

“Fascinating. I wish I could say the same. Alas,” Akechi remarked bluntly, side-eyeing the crowd once more as it dissolved back into its regular, unsavory, party atmosphere. Her eyes flicked back once more over to Ren. “I’m going to wash up. You’ve the engine room to consider again.”

This time, her exposed, bare finger wiped the notable sweat off Ren’s brow. With that, she slowly continued on, departing from Ren’s presence in order to return back to their cabin, leaving him behind to fulfill the rest of his mission alone.

Nothing bad happened. Ren sighed, half-heartedly content, another with worry. Another crisis averted.

He had worried about her, as he often did. Yet for how intensely personal this mission felt, his feelings were amplified much more than usual. He didn’t want to see Akechi getting hurt again, even if it was something she’d do to herself. As he was about to turn a corner, he noticed Makoto’s flowing dress descend down the stairs he was to access, and instead, he quickly retreated indoors.

Once more, when the coast was clear, Ren continued on with the mission, accidentally bumping himself into a small group of women wearing a variety of animal masks, rudely interrupting them. “Sorry,” he remarked, brushing past as he made his way elsewhere on the main decks. The last bit of routine was to check the engine room. From there, he found that security had loosened its relatively firm grip, even if only temporarily, because a guard went off elsewhere.

But it was enough. Ample time to investigate the workings inside. Four cylindrical chambers rotated around slowly and a few guardsmen paced around. Ren ducked down below, examining the insides. At the farthest part of the lowest deck, some lifeboats and a motorized jet ski were stowed next to an emergency hull exit door.

All of the puzzle pieces were connected, and Ren had a plan of action. If they could get info from Kaneshiro upstairs as discreetly as possible, if not outright not even meet him to begin with and find out his stashed intelligence, they could make a daring escape. One half of them would have to deal with the guards downstairs, and the other would have to get past even more upstairs.

One didn’t have to require any modicum of violence. The other, unfortunately, incapacitation probably could work. Death was easier - and only as a last resort.

He stood up, brushing his pants clean of any lingering dirt. It was then that Ren bumped into a guard wearing an oni mask, backing off. “Oi!” The guard cried out. “The fuck’re you doing here, huh?!”

“Truly sorry,” Ren said, bowing politely. “I was just curious.”

“Yeah?” The guard asked rudely, getting close up to Ren’s face. In an instant, Ren felt his collar get tugged and then, he was shoved out of the space. “Party’s outside. Take it or I’ll take you out if I see you again.”

He didn’t quite know what happened in the next few moments. Perhaps, out of spite, Ren only smirked and brushed his tailcoat clean as well. “You know, you really didn’t have to do that.”

“Sure I did,” The guard mockingly laughed. “‘Cause you’re fuckin’ nothing to me. Some dipshit reporter stickin’ their nose up an ass it don’t belong to.” He sighed deeply, cracking his neck. “I ain’t saying it again. Get the fuck outta here.”

As much as Ren wanted to provoke him further, he hesitated, pursing his lips. Recomposing himself, Ren bowed politely again.

You’re mine if I get back down here.

With that, Ren begrudgingly had to set aside his feelings on the matter. Recompense would have to wait. His scouting, for better or worse, was complete, much to the chagrin of the guard standing at his post. All they had to do was check back on routines later tonight as the main event continued on, much akin to a black-tie fundraiser, and see what else he and Akechi could do.

By the time Ren could retrace his steps back to his and Akechi’s shared cabin, the sun’s radiance slowly closed amidst the horizon of their balcony. When he entered inside, he slipped his mask off and set it to the side of his nightstand. His mind raced with several thoughts, far too many to calculate in his head.

Evade Makoto. Ensure that no messes get made at this party. Avoid Kaneshiro if possible. Don’t kill the guards yet. Kill only if necessary. Resume the identity of Ichigo Ohya and Kayo Murakami, but don’t stop if questioned as to why Kayo looked different.

He took a long and deep breath, taking his gloves off and setting it on the vanity table. As he paced around the cabin, recounting his meticulous plan as usual, he still couldn’t quite fully see if even step one could be done. Did Makoto spot him already at a certain point? If not, was she just being courteous? Did she even know he was here?

He didn’t have a lot of time to think - each second meant it was wasted. Iwai’s life depended on it. His life depended on it as well. Failure meant death, and he wasn’t considering his own. Rather, an incalculable loss of life in these waters would be international suicide. Nobody in Japan nor the span of the Pacific Ocean would ever understand how to explain this.

He couldn’t even. And he knew he was able to at least persuade people to see things differently.

Okay. Deep breaths.

In. Out. In…out.

I’m overthinking.

Ren took a momentary breather to himself, the scent of sea salt lingering in the air, and took his tailcoat off before unbuttoning his waistcoat, then his pants and, soon, his own underwear. 

A shower was in order, somewhere he’d often have time to settle down and think of things a little bit more concisely. Once he scoured their cabin for a clean towel happily provided to the cabin, Ren wrapped it around his waist tightly. 

Curiously, aside from the mild noise of the sea waves sloshing around the yacht’s hull, the occasional seagull’s cry, and the incessant murmurs of the party outside, there was hardly anything else in terms of noises. His gaze flicked over to the bed, and he finally registered that Akechi’s dress was strewn neatly on a hanger clinging to one of the racks.

But her presence wasn’t anywhere within the cabin. Had she gone somewhere, perhaps, wearing a separate robe? There was an empty hanger space where their complimentary bath robes were at. It could be anything, but he hadn’t the time to ponder it. Not until a nice and warm shower.

Without thinking of anything else, Ren entered the bathroom blindly. As he opened the door, his eyes were immediately caught to a sight he hadn’t seen in a month, just as the sounds of the shower head flowed.

The bathroom was as he remembered. Sink to the side, toilet and other amenities hidden behind another doorway. In front of him, the huge shower. Yet more than that…

Before him, fully in the nude and ready to get into the shower herself, was Akechi. She had already slipped her towel off and down to the cold, sterile flooring. With the sound of the door opening, she twirled around, almost surprised to see Ren there with her. A soft, acknowledging smirk laced her lips as her eyes gleamed his presence.

“Mmm,” Akechi cooed to herself, head inclining to the side with her finger held onto her lips. “You truly are quite the character, my dear husband…” She softly whispered. All he could do was stand, frozen. With one smooth motion, she glided over and closed the door, helping guide Ren deeper inside. 

“Since you’re already here, why don’t you…come in with me?” Her fingers interlocked with his, and although he was still preoccupied elsewhere, Akechi only reaffirmed him further. “The water’s just fine.”

For Ren though, he was trapped in a momentary point in time, before the door ever swung open, and after it.

This…

I did not expect.

Chapter Text

“I suppose fate leads men to strange bedfellows at times.”

“I believe that fate brings people together. It’s strange, but talking to you is thought-provoking.”

April 26th, 20XX
Night

Akechi’s lingering touch roped him in, and he complied to an unnatural degree. Ren remained gobsmacked, unable to realize he’d been so preoccupied he didn’t consider the possibility she was ready to get cleaned up, herself.

He couldn’t even register the fact that his towel had slipped off of him, entering into the shower with her. His body mechanically moved forward, one frosted glass shower door shutting behind them smoothly. Only then did the hot water reawaken his senses, and any semblance of reason as to where he was at.

He had cleared his throat and felt a heated flush sprint to his cheeks. “Sorry,” he said, feeling like it was the only thing he was saying for the evening over and over again. Akechi’s chest found itself squished up behind his bare back, one sensual sigh into his ear as she lazily rested her head on his shoulder, feeling the shower-head above them put both of them at ease.

“Why so tense, darling? It’s not like you’ve seen me like this before,” Akechi said as Ren felt a soft purr emanate from her. “Or are you perhaps distracted with something else…?”

If his heart could race any faster he’d probably have a heart attack. But this time, he was prepared. With a light touch behind him on her lazily hung arm around him, Ren gave her a sense of acknowledgement.

Akechi backed off and took a seat on the integrated marble benches inside the shower. Rolling his fingers across his wet and unkempt hair, Ren smacked his lips. “Lots of strategies to think about. That wasn’t my intention…”

“And what was your intention, exactly?” Akechi smirked, rubbing her chin. “Here I thought you’d leave worries at the door, or at least be courteous.” Handing him the loofah and a bottle of shampoo, she leaned back into the bench afterwards. “I digress. We’ve one shared goal in mind tonight.”

Quietly, he turned around, obvious to the arousal he felt growing between his hips. Carefully, he positioned himself to a point where he could respectfully look away and not have the obvious pointed out. “Thanks.” He softly spoke, chuckling to himself as he lathered the shampoo on his body. “Are you alright?”

As he asked, she sighed and raised her head up to the ceiling. “You’re getting sloppy,” Akechi interjected, utterly ignoring the elephant in the room. “And frankly, I’ve no idea how you even managed to luck out getting us this far.”

He returned the loofah and bottle of shampoo over to her once he was done. She rinsed what she could out of it and reapplied her own, wetting it as she went along. Softly, she lathered her own body and hummed softly.

The shower-head above them continuously sprayed warm water as Akechi extended her leg out, rinsing underneath, and smiled. Ren concluded rinsing his body off and, of course, felt a light tug against his arm again. He felt his body get dragged back smoothly into the bench with Akechi, her arm linked up to his.

“It’s been some time since I’ve had the chance to truly sit down and not think about anything…” She murmured, tracing her fingers around the back of his palm. “...It takes me back.”

Ren gave it pause as he settled in, rolling one leg over the other. His heart rate gradually subsided into normalcy, and, subconsciously or not, his hands searched their way over to Akechi’s thigh, and he gave it a gentle squeeze. “Does it?”

“That it does,” Akechi replied again, softly breathing as her hands receded back to her space. “Albeit, as you remember…not all of my visits to bathhouses were with the express intent of just washing.”

Her eyes retreated to the lower corners of the shower walls, Ren finding himself unintentionally staring at her, witnessing her curl her legs up. Her breasts squished against her legs, and her eyes glossed over to meet him. “There is not a day that goes by where this space doesn’t feel the safest to me.”

It was as he recalled. Ren nodded and rested a hand on her shoulders, but the question remained: Where exactly did this come from? Throughout most of their time spent together, this was perhaps the most vulnerable he’d ever felt Akechi be. To be conscious of what was happening, likely, and also not in any peculiar mood that he could sense something ulterior would occur.

…So what exactly is your intention?

Silence dawned upon them both in the shower as they sat idly by, allowing the water above to keep them at rest underneath. Only the sound of rushing water unfolded between, until Akechi’s breath hitched slightly, and her attention glossed over Ren’s form.

“When I…bared myself to you,” she began, raising her head slightly out of her arms, “I put a lot of my belief into you seeing it as a test.”

Solemnly, Ren could only nod along, closing his eyes as he raised his head up. He did not speak, only aiming to listen.

“A calculated trap. I suppose it was foolish of me to believe the outcome was ordained.” Akechi said, sliding her feet back down. “Although I suppose…when you’re taught certainties at a young age, it becomes challenging to reconsider any other possibilities.”

Ren felt her piercing gaze reach out to him, amidst the steam rising slowly within the space they shared. If she was debating what he believed she was, then the only thing he could do was reassure her. “You’ve been through a lot…” He wanted to speak, yet Akechi remained firm.

A warm smile quirked her lips as she rested her chin within her palm, back hunched slightly. “My mother did what she had to. It was most assuredly better than staying…” Her voice trailed off at the end, and a soft sigh escaped her lips. Silence had befallen them once more, until she eventually recomposed herself. “You once asked me about her, shortly before the night that subhuman degenerate died.”

“I did.” Ren nodded, and in exchange he could only smile softly at her. “We don’t have to go visit that.” 

Akechi’s gaze pierced him as she slightly tilted her head upwards. Hair still sopping wet, she brushed it aside and pursed her lips. “My mother…” She spoke, fondly remembering her. “She learned how to survive as best as she could. Play the right games, pour just the right amount of liquor in a man’s drink. But, she could never escape that branding.”

Instead of arguing, Ren instead intently listened. Gradually, her body shifted back down, legs touching the shower floor as she uncoiled herself. Hands on her thighs, he noted that she balled her fists. “When she eventually wanted to escape, we found shelter with other downtrodden women.”

I won’t pretend to know how that feels.

Still, Ren listened, and he quietly found his fingers urging themselves over Akechi's bare skin, guided by her own as she tugged him along. Fingers interlaced, she continued. “Tell me. What do you suppose happens to women as they grow up, seeing their mother try to move forward with the past…?”

He pursed his lips, but gave Akechi a squeeze in their shared joining. “Hardship. Guilt over a terrible set of cards thrown on them.” While he was right on the money, there was a soft nudge from Akechi’s gaze towards him. Keep going. Tell her how much he knows, how much he sees. He obliged, swallowing. “If I had to guess…some of the men came looking for her.”

There was only a soft nod as Akechi lowered her head, scoffing once again before forcing a smile. “Is there anything more precious than a mother’s unconditional love for their child…? To know that, despite it all, the legacy they leave behind is immeasurable for their daughters?”

Ren only shook his head, smiling back at her, and once again she continued on. But her voice took a turn, rendering itself unfeeling. Detached. Cold. “When my mother died, I realized then, I was cursed. I knew too much as a child. To witness a body swaying lifelessly in the shelter of our home, seeing it marked. The question remained: Who was next?”

It was Ren’s turn to see his own breath hitch, a cold chill running up his spine. Akechi could tell - he knew. Even if he never experienced any of this firsthand, he knew. He didn’t even have to say anything, all it took was Akechi peering back at him. “I don’t need to ask. It’s written all over you, isn’t it? That deduction…”

Of course she was right. Ren then thought back to the past month, and then some. Every little nuance that Akechi had shown him, from her chest bindings, to the way she dressed, and suddenly the interest in allowing herself to be seen around him, only for that to bear a forbidden fruit for others to seek…and even she caught on, smiling at him at realizing it all in real-time.

The air in Ren’s lungs escaped swiftly. Hesitation lingered in its wake, and he understood very well he was on the mark. With his gaze meeting hers, he sighed. “Your mother died hanging herself because another man came back and claimed her. Not as a woman but…”

…Even less than human…?

Akechi concluded, bluntly. All it was, was one word.

“Yes.” 

Her eyes closed shut, taking a deep, shaky breath. The shower-head continued spraying water between them both, silence falling once more. Between them, only sounds of water spraying remained. Even Ren was at a loss for words for perhaps the first time in a long while. Only Akechi’s mild laughter, breaking that very same silence, shattered the tension.