say you'll resurrect me as a young deepfake

[flightpen]

It's been an okay day. Ren hasn't had to be around many people, which has been the main high point. He's trying not to think about what that says about (what he did) everything.

But there have been other good things. His friends have been having the same conversation as each other in the group chat, instead of saying disconnected nonsense. And Ren finally dared to think, This reality is a twisted wasteland, and it's only going to get worse, and he didn't lose time or anything. He was just allowed to think it and remember that he thought it. So that's good to know.

Right now he's behind the counter of Leblanc, apron on, practicing making coffee with a less popular type of bean. Maruki knew better than to make him an instant expert. Maruki also hasn't seen fit to give Leblanc more business, but Ren likes it that way.

(He also tries not to think about how that might be why Sojiro doesn't get more customers in a so-called perfect world. Because Ren, God's favorite, doesn't want them here. None of that right now. He's making coffee.)

Comments

[pheasantboy]

Unfortunately, that's when the door chimes, and the person Ren maybe least wants to see—or not?—walks inside. He smiles, soft and bright, as if the world entire is lingering behind the Leblanc counter, full of promise and beauty. "Good afternoon."

there's nothing left I can say

He sets down his case, glancing about as he takes his seat; his smile gets a little more secret. "Quiet as ever, isn't it? But I don't mind that."

our deal's off. He might never have said it, not three metres from where he's sitting now.

[flightpen]

A rush of emotions too complex and painful to name floods through Ren at the sight of Akechi in the Leblanc doorway, leaving him as hollowed-out and raw as always. He doesn't glance at where Akechi stood that night. He's learned that lesson already.

"Uh. Hey." He takes a steadying breath. He could be dead, he reminds himself; it always makes it easier to meet Akechi's guileless eyes. "I'm about done with this, I can get started on your usual afterwards."

[pheasantboy]

"There's no rush. I have all evening." He folds his hands in front of him, in those same gloves he always wore; his smile brightens, as pleased as if he's giving Ren good news. He hasn't noticed anything wrong at all.

He takes a curious look at the pourover. "Practice, I take it? What is it for?"

[flightpen]

"This?" Ren glances at the coffee. "I just wanted to learn how to make it. People don't order it very often. It's a single origin Hawaiian Kona."

It's easier to talk to Akechi when he's looking down at the carafe.

[pheasantboy]

"What's wrong with it?" He leans in, peering at the carafe himself. It looks like coffee; it smells good. "Do they not know to ask for it? Is it expensive?"

Again, Ren's discomfort bounces off him.

[flightpen]

"It's expensive. People usually just order the ten percent blend. That's all you need for something to be a Kona blend, the beans are so..."

He searches for the right word. It's harder than it used to be, but he doesn't think it's because of any of the things Maruki's done to him. But would he even know...?

"...valuable, I guess."

The timer goes off and he removes the filter from the carafe, tossing it and its wet grounds into the trash. With practiced grace, he pours the coffee into a cup. The aroma is rich, strong, and complex.

[pheasantboy]

Something is wrong. He watches Ren struggle for the right word, trying to read his face. His head tilts like a bird's, as something glimmers in his eyes....

Then the timer goes off. Ren starts to pour, and, smiling as if nothing happened, Akechi watches his hands. "I never get tired of watching you do that. You should teach me."

Also, it smells really good. He breathes it in. "I take it you're drinking that?"

[flightpen]

Ren's mouth twists as Akechi's attention glances off him to the nearest shiny thing. So unlike the boy he first knew, laser-focused to the point of his own destruction. But Ren's used to it by now.

More or less, anyway. He's getting there. He'll be fine.

"No point practicing if I don't at least try it. Why? Do you want some?"

[pheasantboy]

"I wouldn't say no. I don't believe I've tried Hawaiian Kona." His smile is radiant, like he has nothing better to think about than coffee—which, at this moment, he doesn't.

He tries to meet Ren's eyes, looking almost stupidly adoring. "You can't permit this gap in my education."

[flightpen]

Ren looks up at Akechi, sees his expression, and almost drops the carafe. He opens his mouth to give... some kind of response, anything... but his mind has been wiped clean. His skin crawls.

But he can't look away, either; he just stands there, staring back at Akechi, wide-eyed.

[pheasantboy]

And he can't not notice. Even the scraped-out shell he is sees Ren's distress; the smile falls off his face. He leans in, visibly worried as he never would have been. "Ren, what's wrong?"

He reaches for the carafe. "Here, let me take that. Sit down. We can sit in a booth. Come on."

[flightpen]

Words finally come to his lips. "Akechi, I'm sorry—"

But is he? Would he do anything differently? He would never send Akechi to his death, even knowing this was the alternative, and so any apology is meaningless. A lie, even.

He holds the carafe tighter for a second before he gives in and lets Akechi take it.

[pheasantboy]

"Hey." This time, his smile is smaller, more confiding as he takes the carafe with words he doesn't know are empty. "You don't have anything to be sorry for."

every moment you delay your decision, you're betraying me

Setting it down, he comes around the counter. He'll take Ren's hand and lead him to a seat, if he's allowed.

[flightpen]

Ren lets himself be led. But this time he can't stop himself from glancing at the spot where Akechi stood a few weeks ago, in a different world. The Akechi Ren's with today has no idea what he's talking about.

Maybe Maruki is right. Maybe Akechi is better off this way. Unburdened, unhaunted, free to do whatever catches his eye. Free to smile and mean it.

Sure. Yeah. And with all the bravest, fiercest parts of him in chains forever, or maybe destroyed outright. He's been neutered, is what's happened. Like a dog. All that's better is that he's not fucking dead.

Ren's hand tightens around Akechi's as they reach their booth, although he couldn't say why. Not in apology; he's established that. And not in protection.

[pheasantboy]

He lets Ren sit, and takes the enemy's seat opposite him, his body remembering where to sit even if his mind doesn't. Folding his hands in their gloves, he cranes his neck downward a little, still trying to catch Ren's eye with that worried smile, as if all he knows how to do now is smile. What can be wrong with Ren?

Black gloves, olive jacket, his school tie. He looks just as he always looked, except for his eyes, and the soft lines of his mouth.

"Now"—he says it with almost infinite kindness—"what's the problem?" Or are you telling me you'd piss on everything you believe in over as little as this?

[flightpen]

"I." His voice shakes, which is mortifying. He takes a deep breath and tries to pull himself together, but the gentleness in Akechi's voice doesn't help. He feels like he's losing his mind, which isn't new. That feeing predates Maruki's reality, really.

I'm fine, sorry, he means to tell Akechi, but a sudden impulse has him saying instead, "Do you, um. What do you remember about the beginning of the year?"

He's never asked before.

[pheasantboy]

And he doesn't expect to be asked. A little sound escapes him—not a laugh, nor really a gasp; it's like being asked about the moon. "What a strange question."

But he touches his chin, really thinking about it. As if he should have to think about it. "You all went to the shrine for hatsumode. I couldn't make it; you know why." He'd still been in lockup that morning, not that he remembers. "But I met you the next morning. You remember, right? We met Yoshizawa-san."

All the pieces, and none of the puzzle.

[flightpen]

"Why didn't you come with us for hatsumode? Just humor me."

He doesn't even know where he's going with this. It's not like Akechi is going to be broken out of his actualization if Ren asks the right questions. That was only possible before.

...right?

[pheasantboy]

His answer is immediate; he looks curious, like it's a game. It is a game, right? Yet Ren seems so strange....

"Sae needed me that day. For her case against Shido." His soft amusement never flickers. I'm going to cast him into a living hell. "He confessed, but his confession still needs to be evidenced. I say ‘needs’." Since, as far as Akechi knows, he's still working on it.

"Do I get a question soon?" He laughs, like a little glass bell.

[flightpen]

Whatever Akechi remembers, he didn't say that like someone who helped by getting arrested and interrogated. But maybe that's how Akechi would talk about that ordeal now. Light tone, jokey followup.

"Keep track of how many questions I ask, and you can have that many afterward. What were you doing to help Sae?"

[pheasantboy]

"Very well." He starts keeping count, in his head. Rather than object to the questions, he just answers.

"Well, that's why she kept me on, for the confession and the case more widely. Since I was there, yes? And because she respects my investigative skills, and all of that.

"That day in particular was urgent because the initial report for the District Court was brought forward to that week. No rest for the wicked. The top-level summary for the judge needed to be signed off on the 1st."

There is absolutely no delay. Down in Mementos, his Shadow—for such it now is—lies frozen, wide-eyed and unblinking, pierced by half-a-dozen tentacles.

[flightpen]

Ren bites his lip for a moment—an old habit, recently rediscovered—then lets it go. Regardless of whether Akechi remembers doing specific tasks on the 1st or not, it's obvious something has been put in place as a substitute for his detainment. Which is probably true of anything Maruki doesn't want Akechi to remember.

So Ren presses a little harder. "What were we working on in January? You and me and... our friends?"

[pheasantboy]

"Nothing in particular." It's absolutely light and easy; he doesn't notice the hesitation.

"I didn't see as much of you all as I wanted, that month—I was busy with Sae, obviously, and with my schoolwork after all the time I missed last year. But we managed to meet a few times—mostly here, though I even snuck into Shujin once. That was fun."

Again, the tinkling little laugh—but then he frowns. "Ren, what is all this about? Have you forgotten? Is that why you seem so down, all of a sudden?"

[flightpen]

"No, I remember."

It's quieter than he means it to be. If he's the only one who remembers when everyone else in the world believes a lie, how much does the truth even matter?

Shit like that is what really makes him think he's going insane.

He wishes Akechi had spent more time with them in January.

He rolls the dice. "We were trying to stop Maruki, remember? He'd taken over Mementos, and the rest of the world was next."

He can't feel his fingertips. That's weird.

[pheasantboy]

... and absolutely nothing happens. There's no recognition in his face at all. He just leans in, perturbed and worried, as if something buried in his spine is pushing him forward.

"I see..." Is it possible Ren has actually lost his mind? No, surely not. "And what else happened, Ren? Can you tell me?"

He thinks if anything happened to Ren, he would die. It hurts even to see him in pain, in a dull kind of way; he has to put it right.